#so i feverishly just wrote this in an hour

[birrdies]

needs

last life fic (1.8k words)

Etho was good at mostly being alone. 

Silences were easy things to fill with simple nothings: tinkering with faulty machinery, tearing his latest project down to its barest bones and starting all over (just for the hell of it), exploring as far as his tired legs would carry him. When hands are busy and a mind is occupied, it’s difficult to notice the nothingness close in on him. 

Solitude. It didn’t matter the world or game. To Etho, it was as much a talent as it was instinct. To build a fortress up from the ground and pretend he didn’t care that he didn’t have enough to fill the empty rooms. To spend nights alone, because it’s for the best. Because he didn’t need it any other way. There was nothing he needed that he couldn’t wear nor fit in his pockets. 

There were things he wanted, sure, but need and want were different things. Want was frivolous; it was a thorn in his side that he never could muster the courage to pull out. Need, was permanent. Need was saved for when things went bad. When the thorn was ripped from skin, when he needed to staunch the bleed. 

This game wasn’t any different.

Want was a crumbling snowy castle resting like a tomb in the center of the end of the world. Want was a pair of twin staircases, a shield painted red and blue, and his name scrawled on the deed to his own freedom, handed straight into the hands of a madman. 

Need was a fence splitting their home in two, the ravine and impossible task that separated them. Need was a burrow underground, a set of new faces, a message of death written in red. 

Need was picking at the remains of what once stood as his home like a vulture. 

Only one of the towers still stood. The moon hung low in the sky overhead, a silver spotlight on everything that he once had. The ground was upturned all the way through to the stone underneath. Dirt and wood and remaining pits of soul sand sunk into the holes dug and blown into the groundwork of the castle. Like it had tried burying its own body but couldn’t quite get the job done. 

Etho skulked his way across the wreckage. This place belonged to the enemy now. It wasn’t his home anymore, no matter how much it masqueraded as such. 

There wasn’t much left. A few potions he’d tucked away underground days before. A beaten set of iron armor. Scraps of gold and stale bread. Less than he wanted and more than he needed. The rest he could recover with time buried underground. That, he was used to.

Burying himself underground, gathering what he could to fool others into thinking of it as strength, only to rise from the dirt with a sword, bow, and the need to be the one to walk out of there. Not enough to be a phoenix rising from ashes into flames, but rather a body climbing out of the dirt to fight and survive.

He’d played more games than he could count that way, in the solitude and protection the caves and earth below had to offer. When he was alone, there was nothing that could truly hurt him— not in any way that mattered. Really, he should’ve been relieved. He should’ve felt lighter on his feet, a burden shed from his back. 

But instead, he didn’t feel much like anything at all. 

It hurt less than it should have, but more than Etho ever anticipated. The thorn had been pulled clean and he bled, but he felt less the pain and more the uncomfortable twinge. The calculated knowledge that skin had been broken but the detached thoughtlessness not to feel it. 

He was alone again. But that was okay. At least he knew what to do with it.

“Find anything good?” Etho looked to the half-collapsed parapet above his head. Cleo leaned over the edge, her hair hanging in her face. Another need, if he wanted to survive. The more bodies the better. It didn’t make him any less alone, just more fortified. Etho wasn’t so prideful as to think that he’d last out there on his own. Not this late in the game. Not with the Reds out for his blood. 

With a sigh, he shut the chest he’d been rooting around in. “Invisibility potions,” he said, packing whatever he could away in his pockets. “Extra armor I stashed. Some iron and gold. I bet Grian and Joel already picked up everything else worthwhile.” 

Cleo hummed. Etho grasped the wrung of a rickety ladder to hoist himself up onto the parapet beside her. She stood with ease, hands on her hips and an amused quirk to her mouth as she overlooked what never belonged to her.

“We’re going to stick it out with Ren and his shadow freaks?” Cleo asked after a moment. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face, but he didn’t return it. “That’s our plan?”

We. Our. She was just as bad as Bdubs. Etho had the thought to be angry, but really all he could manage was confusion. Curiosity. How did they make it look easy? Like handing over trust was as easy and mindless as breathing? Meanwhile he was a machine short-circuiting between two ends of a binary: what his heart longed for and what his head demanded. The desperation to claw more out more lives for Bdubs from anywhere he could. Anywhere except himself. 

“The Greens and Yellows should stick together,” Etho said, detached and factual. “At least until we knock out the rest of the Reds. Joel and Grian are going to be a big problem… Tango, too, now that I think about it.”

“You’ve made a lot of enemies this go-around, haven’t you?” Cleo teased. He knew she was teasing, but suddenly he was punched by the first flare of something since he stood on the opposite side of that cliff face. 

Etho scoffed and turned to overlook the rest of the hills. Lava burned far off, an orange glow that bled into the night sky. When that wither erupted from the heart of the snow castle, Etho thought that was the end of the world. But it was nothing compared to this: the damage left behind.

“I didn’t even do anything,” he said quietly. 

“You didn’t have to,” Cleo retorted. She rested a hand on Etho’s shoulder and he lacked the grit to brush it off. There were few people he both feared and respected in equal parts, and the person standing next to him was one of them. “Surviving this long always puts a target on your back. Plus, you’re the lucky guy who’s left to clean up all of Bdubs’ messes.” “You know a lot about that, don’t you, Cleo?” 

He didn’t know where it came from. The words were nasty and sharp but his voice was even and calm as ever; he wasn’t convinced he’d even said it. But Cleo only raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned her attention to the rest of the world. She pursed her lips. 

Neither of them said anything. The longer he stood in the bones of something he loved, the more he felt the ache start to sink in. Like pins and needles it started to spread from the pinch in his side, through his chest, up the back of his throat, and behind his eyes. It didn’t hurt yet, but he knew it could. He knew it would, when the worst of the numbness receded. If it ever did. 

He didn’t know if it would. He didn’t know if he wanted it to. It was so much easier to deal with like this. 

“It‘s okay if it hurts,” Cleo said finally. The hand on Etho’s shoulder never wavered, only squeezed the tense muscle there. “I’d be more worried if it didn’t. You’re more human than you pretend to be, Etho.”

The center of the snow castle's been caved in. A bomb detonated by Martyn. The walls to the east were crumbled and resorted to nothing more than dust. A fatal blow from the wither. A large, steep drop between the gap under the walls and the bottom of the hill. The last time they fought side-by-side. A single fence post remained in front of the door to their bedrooms. 

He was good at being alone. In fact, he was better off for it. 

He didn’t need Bdubs. He never needed Bdubs. It was convenient. It was easy. But then it wasn’t. Bdubs kept dying. Bdubs needed more lives. And suddenly it wasn’t anything about needing him and everything about wanting him. About doing everything within his power to keep him.

It was silver-tongued lies and trigger-finger betrayals. Scar coiled in fishing line, an axe through his throat before he knew what happened to him. The curse was easy to blame, but the truth was it simply provided him an excuse. A loop-hole. He would’ve done it either way. He would’ve made a way. 

Because he wanted Bdubs and his brain forgot where the line between want and need stood. 

“I could’ve given him a life.” A stab of remorse. The numbness started to fade as the sun threatened to rise and reality set in over the remains of what he had. “Things could’ve been different.”

“Maybe,” Cleo relented. She sat leaning against an old pillar of wood that supported what was left of the parapet, staring at Etho with an unusually soft expression that he had a difficult time feigning strength in front of. “But we both know Bdubs was dead either way.” 

“No.” Etho shut his eyes. He willed the burning behind them to fade. “I could’ve given it to him, Cleo,” he said again, because she didn’t understand. 

It was his fault. He fought tooth-and-nail to protect the single thing he was foolish enough to let in. Only to shoot it right down in the same breath. A punishment for his mistakes, doled out by his own hand. 

The wood beneath him creaked. Cleo shuffled behind him until he felt her body heat slotted against his back. Her arms wrapped around him, trapping him in her embrace and squeezing his shoulders and chest tight. He didn’t open his eyes. Because he feared when he did reality would come crashing down, and he’d be forced to remember that one of them would likely be dead by the end of the day. 

Cleo hooked her chin over Etho’s shoulder. The side of her head pressed flush with his. Shakily he laid his hands on top of hers, afraid she’d let go. 

“For what it’s worth,” she said against his ear. “I think he’s already forgiven you.”

[thatlittledandere]

Alright, you definitely should have listened to the village elders this time. Wandering too deep into the forest was a bad idea. They could have been more specific about what “too deep” meant though.

All you wanted to do was see if there were any valuable herbs in the area. You had heard rumors that if you went slightly beyond the usual reach of the villagers, a little to the west, you would find ingredients for most potential of healing potions. You didn’t think heeding the advice would cost you much; it was supposed to be only a little further, right? But which way was west again…

Before you knew it, you had gotten lost. Of course, forests always looked somewhat the same, but after 20 years of living in the same village, you came to recognize the areas you had always played, worked, and relaxed in. A tree that bent a little to the left; that boulder that looked like a fist without a thumb; the lightning-struck tree trunk, too heavy to be moved, blocking what used to be a path. You knew when you were near your home by the atmosphere alone.

And now you recognized nothing you saw.

It wasn’t dark yet - wouldn’t be for a long time - but you were still getting the shivers of being outside at night. This part of the forest was creepy. You didn’t know how else to describe it - threatening? It felt like something was out to get you. Or for that matter, anyone foolish enough to disturb the peace of whatever dwelled inside.

You stopped. Turned to look back — had you seen wrong? You must have — and turned back ahead. There was... It was like there was a line drawn on the ground. A border.

You looked to your right, then left. No, it really was… as strange as it seemed, it was clearly a huge circle. You were standing just outside it.

And everything inside was dead.

The grass was sickly, pale yellow, almost white, like after a scorching hot summer with too little rain. Trees gray and bare, bark flaking, crispy leaves lying sadly on the ground. Thousands of insect carcasses everywhere, a couple of dead birds and — oh no — a lone rabbit. All completely lifeless. How could this be?

You took a step back. Was this maybe… The work of magic? A fiendish warlock wielding dark sorcery?

You didn’t know much about magic; there weren’t many capable of using it in your tiny village, and the mages you knew were neither malicious nor the tiniest bit adventurous with it. But it was the only explanation you could come up with. Nature couldn’t do this on its own.

You felt a rush of excitement at the thought. Magic had always fascinated you. With nobody around to teach the craft, you had abandoned the idea of pursuing it years ago, but… It was exhilarating seeing its impact. Foul as this magic was, it drew you in - and if nothing inside was alive, it couldn’t do you any harm either. You had come so far; why not investigate a little?

You had barely taken two steps on the lifeless grass when you heard a soft voice plead: “Don’t come closer.”

You froze. Had there been a person around? Was it a bandit? Or, wait, maybe they could help you find your way home-

“Please get away from me,” asked the stranger again, even more desperate this time. Their voice was getting raspier, breaking towards the end of the sentence. Whoever it was must have been either sick or grievously injured. Perhaps you would have to help them more than they could help you.

You squinted your eyes, and finally caught a glimpse of a figure behind two trees.

He looked around your age. But not in such good health, as you had suspected. He was holding onto the tree, hunching, and the distance between you wasn't enough to hide the tremble of his hands or the hollowness in his eyes.

"Please, " he repeated, each word weaker yet more fearful than the last. "I can only bring misery. You must leave while you still can!"

His fear was contagious. You couldn't fight the shiver running along your spine nor the cold sweat erching your brow. It was like even the Sun knew better than to approach this self-proclaimed harbinger.

But you had always been too curious for your own good, much to your mother's chagrin. Weren't you an apprentice in the art of medicine? Wasn't this stranger in clear need of help? You couldn't just leave him alone to rot in his miserable circle of decay.

You forced a smile - sort of - and took a step closer. The stranger grabbed his face, screamed, and collapsed on his knees. You saw white and felt a strong gust of wind knock you off your feet.

And then there was nothing.

[glitchbirds]

extremely funny to skim through the replies on that post i feel like a completely unhinged outlier

[xoxochb]

heeeey I absolute love your fluffy aftercare w leo valdez would you please made something like that but with my pretty boy percy ?

— short n sweet ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - warnings: SMUT, fluff at the end pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader a/n: was listening to short n sweet when I wrote this so I thought the title/theme was appropriate

you can’t breath, you can’t focus, you can’t think, you can’t do jack shit. there’s barely any time to react before percy is placing his mouth over your core, taking you in instantly, eliciting a guttural moan from you. what you wanted to do instead was beg him to take more of you, plead please please please!! until he finally does (though you’re sure it won’t take much convincing anyways). he’s so warm, too warm, eagerly licking over you as you give your best attempt to even take in a breath (is this how you’re going to die??), they come out in more so pants, like you had been trapped in an enclosed space for hours, though the only thing enclosed was your airway

percy doesn’t seem to care one bit, finding great joy in your disoriented state, your squirming and moans as you grind down on his face. he ushers you to continue as he works you quicker, nearly sending you over an edge. your head is clouded, you feel lightheaded, stuck in a euphoric state. and you’re sure he knows he’s doing this to you too, that’s the worst part. you’re so close, just at the very tip, that small space between the cliff and air, the tiniest pinch away. percy doesn’t stop for a moment, savoring the way your legs shake and the soft noises only he gets to elicit from you

he additionally doesn’t seem to put himself on pause when you reach a pleasurable climax, loudly moaning his name. he doesn’t waste another second before removing himself from inside of you and transferring his lips to yours feverishly, making you gasp at the swift contact, he kisses you once and twice, grinding himself against you roughly, resting his forehead on yours. you so wish you didn’t want more because you didn’t know how much you could handle. you flip him over, now you straddle him, and now percy is the one whining and pleading. he attempts to grab your hips but you slap his hand away

“not yet” you pant, giving a particularly hard press into him, making him moan your name. the feeling of him filling you up pushes you over a second edge, as if the first hasn’t been that long of a fall. you curl your nails into his biceps as you let out a strangled cry. that had been your ending climax. slowly, you slide yourself off of him and to the side, your chest rising and falling as you attempt to regain yourself. you pull the sheets— mostly falling off the bed— over yourself, cuddling into percy who equally struggles to breathe. he traces lazy circles on the bare skin of your back

“does this mean I get my hoodie back?” he rasps. you furrow your brows and look up at him

“what? no”

“fair enough” he kisses the top of your head

then, the room resorts to a comfortable silence until percy speaks again, “are you okay?”

you nod. “perfect”

[esquen]

Omg please do if the reader got pregnant and Mike’s reaction and Abby’s reaction I just think that would be so cute

i think we all collectively agree mike would be so happy to be a dad (if he was stable mentally and financially)

you were starting to worry mike. you couldn’t keep your dinner from last night down in the morning, and he had to patiently hold your hair up and away from your face as you coughed it all out.

he felt that it was somehow his fault (it was), thinking he’d accidentally given you food poisoning. he called you out of work and kept the fan pointed in your direction with a bucket and a glass of water on the night stand.

abby joined you in his bed a few hours after he left. she’d only recently woken up and noticed you weren’t in the kitchen making breakfast.

she slept a little longer than you did, trying your best to leave the bed without waking her up. you felt like you knew what was wrong, but you wanted to make sure.

as you silently walked towards the phone in the kitchen, you dialed mike’s office number. you called him atleast once everyday, to ask what he wanted for dinner or just to check in on him.

“hello?” mike asks. the sound of him typing on the keyboard drowns out the chatter of his co-workers. “hi baby.” you mumble, crossing your arms.

“hey, babe. how are you?” he asks, stopping his fingers as he holds the phone eagerly against his ear. “i’m better. could you stop by the pharmacy and pick up a few things?” you licked your lips nervously. you didn’t know how to tell him you thought you were pregnant.

“yeah, hold on,” he mumbles, tearing a piece of paper and clicking a pen from what you could hear. “alright, what do you need?”

“a gatorade and a pregnancy test.” you kept it short, just wanting to get the conversation over with.

mike went silent for a few seconds before you heard him scribble down your request. “okay. i’ll be home at 5.”

“i love you.” you mutter. “i love you more.” he whispers back, hanging up the phone. you sighed anxiously, deciding to get started on lunch.

the next 6 hours were painfully long as you waited for your boyfriend. you were scared— not only because you’d have a new addition to the family, but because you didn’t know how mike would react.

when he came through the door with the small white plastic bag, his eyebrows were furrowed as you came to meet him at the door.

“hey baby.” he greets, hand coming to cradle your back as he presses a kiss to your lips, holding up the bag to you. “thanks.” you mumble, opening the bag and taking out the gatorade.

you smiled up at him and put it on the counter, making your way towards the bathroom with the pregnancy tests.

mike and abby talked in a whisper for some reason as you waited for your results. the test was flipped over so you couldn’t see what it said, thoughts racing as you tapped your fingers against the counter.

the alarm on your watch went off, signifying that it was time to flip the test over. swallowing all your guilt and worry, you flipped the stick over.

the two red lines from hell.

you weren’t particularly mad at the result, you just didn’t plan on it happening like this. or this early.

you sighed at the sight, turning around to unlock the bathroom door and towards the living room again.

abby was curled up on the couch, her cartoon’s playing quietly as mike wrote through his bills.

you pressed your lips together until he noticed you, putting his pen down as he stared at you with more love than anyone has before.

you put the test on the table, sliding it towards him. he picks it up feverishly and studies it, pupils dilating at the result.

he wants to jump up and scream, cheer— whatever. but he didn’t want to wake abby up. he chewed at his bottom lip and tried to shy away a smile, standing up and hugging you. “i’m gonna take such good care of you.” he muttered into your ear.

revealing it to abby was the least of your worries. she was a kid, so you had no fear of getting judged by her.

“abby?” mike calls out from her door frame. she turns around, looking at her brother. “yeah?” she responds. mike swallows and looks over at you.

“uhm.. y/n and i— we’re gonna have a baby.” he sighs, eyes never leaving yours until he had to turn and look at abby’s reaction.

her eyelids shot open at the reveal, sitting upright to look at her brothers girlfriend. “serious?” she asks, hopping off the bed.

“serious.” you nod with a laugh. she’s throwing herself into your arms so fast, you didn’t even see it coming.

you look up at mike from the squatting position you were in, staring at you as you chat about the baby to his little sister.

[enha-stars]

✧ how he loves you

pairing: soft!sunghoon x reader (fluff)

summary: sunghoon never really believed in love until he was in it, and now that he was, it was everything.

a/n: thank you for 400 followers! this was inspired by something i wrote on my other blog for sakusa kiyoomi (don't ask)

love was powerful; it was strong and capable of change, and sunghoon learned that with you. he firmly believed that love could change someone. 

because it changed him. 

sunghoon never considered love, not really. he liked himself enough but he had never truly loved himself. his entire life, people had told him how talented he was and how handsome he was, but he never truly accepted any of the claims. 

despite his own turmoil, sunghoon loved you. god, he loved you. he loved you more than life; more than the tide loved the moon, more than the plants loved the sun. he loved you more than he ever thought possible. 

and you loved him. god, did you love him. you loved him so much that he had no choice but to love himself just as much. or at least, he tried to. 

he had always hated his fangs; his pointy canine teeth that always made his smile look abnormal. but when you poked them, smiling when they made an appearance, mumbling about how adorable and boyish he looked, sunghoon had no choice but to start loving them. 

he had hated his beauty marks; hated how they were scattered across his face in an organized manner. but when you first kissed them, telling him that “they’re beautiful, hoonie. just as you are” he no longer wanted to scratch them off. all he yearned for now was the days that you sat on his lap and pressed small kisses to the marks on his cheek and nose while playing with his fingers. 

sunghoon was absolutely, hopelessly, completely, passionately, insanely, and desperately in love with you. 

and anyone who had the chance to look at both of you together, would know. 

perhaps the most surprising day of his members’ lives was when they stumbled upon the soft moments between you and sunghoon and had the opportunity to see the way he truly loved you; feverishly and fondly. 

one evening, heeseung had come to practice half and hour early and when he stepped into the practice room, his eyes landed on you and sunghoon in the middle of the barely lit room. you spoke animatedly about something. he watched curiously as sunghoon gently twirled you in circles, smiling when you broke into giggles mid sentence. heeseung’s jaw fell to the floor when you began to twirl sunghoon, trying your best as you stood on your toes and he could only laugh. 

jay had witnessed sunghoon’s love for you when he found him in the dorm’s kitchen, trying to cook you a full course meal because you had a bad day. jay could only stand there with wide eyes as three videos played simultaneously, guiding sunghoon on a single recipe. he watched carefully as sunghoon danced around the kitchen, smiling when his friend added the wrong ingredients with confidence. 

jake had seen sunghoon’s love for you when sunghoon had come into practice with his hair braided, not a single care as the rest of the members stared at him. sunghoon was very possessive about his hair; it being one of the only things he liked best about himself. and to have you braid it–touch it–jake was amazed. even he couldn’t touch sunghoon’s hair without a slap to the hand. 

the younger members had witnessed sunghoon’s overwhelming love for you after a concert, when he jumped off stage and you ran to him, jumping into his arms. jungwon’s mouth was already agape at the sight of someone touching sunghoon in public. riki and sunoo’s eyes widened when sunghoon pressed a kiss to your lips. it was quick, but visible. he was just so happy, and he didn’t mind the audience.

sunghoon loved you in the most selfless way possible; by unconsciously loving himself. 

he loved you by coming to terms with himself, realizing that he had so much to offer when you were perfectly happy with who he was, with what he gave you. 

park sunghoon loved you with his whole heart, and then some. 

laying next to you now, sunghoon had never felt more loved. with your head resting in the crook of his neck and your hand on top of his heart as you pressed soft kisses to his jaw, sunghoon was absolutely sure that you loved him the way he loved you. 

your love had changed sunghoon, and in return, he loved you with everything he had. 

a/n: @pprodsuga for you <3

[asvtrials]

Let me show you how sorry I am

Bjorn x Fem!Reader

minors dni!

summary: Bjorn made you cry and he's very sorry about it. So sorry that he buries his head between your legs... warnings: smut, oral (fem! receiving), toxic relationship, plot? what plot?, ooc maybe?, not proof-read a/n: Guess who's back?! I wrote this in like two hours so if it's shit yk why. Bjorn eating his gf out after he fucked up is very real to me this man will avoid the consequences of being a dick like it's the plague. ANYWAYS, something small for you! w/c: 819

Bjorn is always saying shit he doesn’t mean. It’s just how he is.

In the heat of the moment, he will say the most outrageous shit and cause you to storm out in tears.

At first, he thinks you’re being dramatic until he calms down and realizes what a dickhead he was. And that’s when the guilt comes and he’s calling you, texting you, begging you to hear him out.

When you ignore him, he goes to your trailer. When you open the door and send him a venomous look, he looks all desperate, like a kicked puppy.

He cups your face, keeps saying how sorry he is and how much of an asshole he is all the time and you let him, because you know what comes next.

You’re weak, so weak you hated it. Especially when he starts kissing your cheeks, testing the waters, seeing if you’ll push him away. You never do, always melting in his arms as he slowly kisses your jaw and neck.

His lips move with yours in a slow, deep rhythm, leading you to your bedroom.

You fall on the bed with a soft groan, pulling him on top of you.

You don’t stop him when he takes off your pants. Why would you? 

Oh right, you’re mad at him…

Then he starts whispering “You know I don’t mean all’at shit, right?” and “I love you, I dunno what I was sayin’, baby.” between kisses. 

You barely hear him, too drunk on the taste of his tongue yet you nodded, no longer caring about the fight. Hell, you barely remember it.

And he knows it.

A small smirk tugs at his lips when you chase his lips after he pulls away.

“My perfect girl deserves better.” He purrs against your neck whilst leaving a trail of red marks from your neck to your collarbone.

You reach for his soft hair when he reaches your panties, lips inches away from where you desperately need him.

His finger lightly grazes the wet spot on the fabric as he looks up at you through his lashes and asks you “Lemme show ya how sorry I am, yeah?”

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod.

He drags the underwear down your legs, torturously slow to the point where you whine for him to hurry up.

Bjorn is rarely patient. He usually fucks you fast and hard, like a starved man. But not tonight.

Tonight he wanted to show you how sorry he is. And why you always end up forgiving him.

Watching him position himself between your spread legs is enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

You watched the spit abandon his lips and fall on your core, mixing with your juices. 

His eyes meet yours once again as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.

His name falls from your lips in desperate, pathetic moans as he dives between your legs.

He sucked and slurped on your essence, spreading your folds with his fingers. He didn’t stop even when your thighs were squeezing his head, not even when he felt like his lungs were going to explode from the lack of oxygen.

How could he? When his girl was begging him to ‘not stop’ when she was so sweet to let him show her how remorseful he was.

Almost as sweet as her juices that drive him crazy with every lick. 

“Ah! Fuck!” You moan, thighs trembling with the sensation of your nearing release.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and lifted your hips to bring you closer, needing to be as close as possible, to lick every last drop you had to offer him.

His tongue feverishly lapped your soaked cunt, your loud moans only fueling him to go faster, to ruin you completely so that the only thing you can remember is the feeling of your tongue between your folds.

The last straw was Bjorn’s moan against your clit. You come with a scream, not caring about your neighbors.

You squeezed his head with your quivering thighs, the earthshattering orgasm you just experienced left you a shaking, breathless mess.

And you swear you almost came again when Bjorn finally pulled his head back, admiring his work before meeting your hazy gaze. His slick-coated lips moved but you didn’t hear him.

You nod regardless.

“You really forgive me, baby?” He asks again, his smile turning into a smirk when you weakly reply ‘yeah’.

You were sure you’d feel at least a little pathetic with how easy it was for him but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Especially with the way he looked right now. Chin glistening with your taste, a small victorious grin tugging at his bruised lips as he looked at you.

You knew this wouldn’t be your last orgasm, it never was. After all, Bjorn was very sorry and you were very weak.

[iliketangerines]

Good day Tangerine, I hope you're doing well. Sorry if I have many requests for you, I hope it isn't too much of a bother. But I really love your writing and I was hoping you'd be fine with writing fluff?

With a reader who's struggling with her classes to the point that she's going to flunk because that subject is weighing her grades down. Still, she hides this and tries to study harder with her own but can't understand it. When Bi-Han catches her staying up late one night, crying, he offers to teach her.

At first, he's like your typical strict Asian mother who would snap when you don't understand, but when you begin to tear up, he realizes that being rough won't help you and tries to teach you softly. Turns out all you need is practice and patience.

just need some patience

a/n: i'm imagining like a teenager bi han who's still training to be grandmaster rn

pairing: bi han x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han usually isn’t up at this hour, late at night and wandering the compound

for some odd reason, he can’t fall asleep and had tried to stay as still as possible to try and trick his body into going to sleep

but it hadn’t worked and so now he was heading to the training rooms to try and work out some of the energy when he passes by the library

no one else should be awake at this hour, and yet the light was on

Bi Han stalls for a moment, wondering if he should go in and see who’s there or just worry about himself

his curiosity wins out, and he finds you at a desk, back bent and feverishly scribbling something onto a scroll

you’re in one of his classes with one of the masters, usually sitting in the front and furiously taking notes as they go over the lesson for the day

he walks over to you silent, and you don’t even notice, too absorbed with what you’re trying to learn, and he recognizes it as the homework one of the masters at the Lin Kuei had assigned today

you write feverishly and have no idea he stands right in front of you until Bi Han squints at something you wrote and says that you got it wrong

the chair nearly tips over with how you jump out of your seat, but you place a hand over your chest and let out a wheeze as you say that he had scared you

he scoffs at you ready to give you a quick retort, but then you press him further about what you got wrong, nearly jumping out of your seat and over the table

Bi Han raises an eyebrow at you, wasn’t it obvious?

pointing at where you made the error, he explains that you should’ve done this instead and takes the pencil from your hand and writes it down

your eyes narrow in confusion, and in a meek voice, you ask him to explain why what you had done was wrong

this was stupid, and he didn’t really want to be here right now

stepping back toward the exit of the library, Bi Han tells you it’s self-explanatory and goes to blow off some steam in the gym, but then you grip onto his arm tightly

he has to fight all instincts to flip you onto your back and crush your bones, but you fall to your knees with a loud thump as you continue holding his hand and start to beg for him to teach you

you’re failing this class, and at this rate, you’re pretty sure that master at the Lin Kuei hates you because of how close you are to flunking

you need to pass this class to continue on with your training at the Lin Kuei, so could you please please please teach you

your eyes are wet and sad, and Bi Han feels like he’s looking at a kicked cat that was sitting in the rain all day as your lower lip starts to tremble as you try not to cry

letting out a frustrated breath, Bi Han rolls his eyes and agrees, and you start to thank him profusely

he just picks you up the scruff of your neck and drags you over back to your seat and sits down in the chair and starts to explain to you what you were doing wrong

you’re slow, so much slower than him, and he doesn’t understand why you just don’t get it

his voice grows shorter, snappier, as you get the following problems wrong over and over again, and his patience snaps, hissing at you and asking why you can’t figure this out like everyone else

you flinch backwards, and your voice wobbles as you try to explain that it just didn’t make sense, that you just can’t figure it out

Bi Han sees how tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes, and he realizes how he’s completely distracted you from learning

he takes a deep breath, collecting his mind for a few moments, and mutters out a quick apology to you before going back to the problems

maybe explaining the problem and method in a different way would help you better, and so he formulates a plan, tapping the pencil against the table as he thinks

he writes a few practice problems for you off the top of his head and hopes they make sense, and he walks through them with you

your wipe your tears away and go through them slowly and thoroughly, learning each step and going through the problems quicker and more confident with every solved question

a few hours later, you had finished the homework with flying colors, and Bi Han felt a sense of pride well up in his stomach

was this what it felt like to lead others? perhaps training to become grandmaster wasn’t so bad after all

the sun barely peeks over the horizon,and Bi Han realizes that the both of you have stayed up all night in the library

but you give him a big grin, and you wrap your arms around him tightly, hugging him before scurrying off with your schoolwork back to your quarters to wash up and squeeze in a quick nap

he sits in the library in silence, trying to process the action, and his cheeks heat up as he thinks of how your chest pressed against his

shaking away the thought, Bi Han goes off to his quarters to freshen up and get ready for the day, but he goes through the rest of the day with a smile on his face, thinking of how you had smiled at him

perhaps he would have to continue your late-night tutoring sessions

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Omg Hiiii! I hope you’re doing great💞 I would just like to request a Drabble of more prince lucio and bodyguard mc😭maybe that scene of their first kiss in the garden? Sksksksk I loved it so much

The Arcana Drabbles: Prince!Lucio and Bodyguard!MC, pt 2

It's been a hot minute since I wrote a kissing scene so uh - bear with me, lol

-----

You've been to plenty of balls before, but always as the bodyguard standing by the wall nearest your golden prince. There was much less to keep track of when your priority was ensuring that he stayed safe (how difficult that was was another matter). Now, though, you're in formal clothes instead of your usual armor, and right in the middle of things with your arm wound through the happy prince's. The wall is starting to look more appealing -

"You having a good time?"

You turn back to your prince, uncertainty wavering behind his excited silver eyes. You can feel his queen mother's gaze boring holes into the side of both of your heads as a bead of sweat slowly trickles down his temple. "Uh ... yeah."

His expression falters a little more. "We could - uh - you don't have to stay, if you don't want to, or! We could sneak into the gardens ... if you want."

"The gardens sound nice," you mumble. His voice cracks in relief as he starts hustling you towards the balcony without an ounce of subtlety.

"Gre-at! That's great. Awesome. Let's go!"

You've seen him nervous and on edge before, but this is a whole new level. Instead of calming down once you two are alone in the moonlight, he seems to only get more agitated. You pause under an archway in the back corner of the rose bushes.

"Are you well, my prince?"

"I'm fine - you know you don't have to call me that, right? I can be Lucio. Just Lucio. If you want."

"I know, Lucio." You smile at him, watching the way he kneads his gloves between his sweaty palms. He must really be worked up about something. "I'm merely double checking."

He lets out a frustrated growl, the seams on his gloves at risk of being ripped. "You don't have to double check, if I say it's okay, it's okay! Don't you get tired of all ... this?"

He gestures feverishly between the two of you before swinging his arms wider to the garden and the distant sounds of the party. You glance back at the palace, the open doors and windows spilling light and music and chatter out into the night. "Tired how?"

He stomps his foot irritably and starts pacing back and forth. "The-the titles, and the protocol, and the damn distance. I don't know what you want because you can't tell me, and I can't tell you what I want because I'm in charge of you!"

You can feel something stirring deep in your chest as he buries his head in his hands with a groan. The hours of sitting by his bed late at night, watching his chest rise and fall as he sleeps under your guard, the constant close proximity you've controlled yourself through, the efforts of the queen to get to know you and show you her distant approval. You'd tried to control the butterflies appearing in your chest through it all, but now you're standing with him all alone in the cool evening air and there's a veritable horde of them being unleashed.

"Do you," you pause, not wanting to misread and overstep your role. "Do you want me to speak to you as Lucio, and not as my prince?"

"YES," he exclaims, before clearing his throat and collecting himself. He swallows and comes to a halt in front of you. "Talk to me like I'm just Lucio. Pretend I'm not the prince for a minute, what am I to you?"

"I don't know if I should say -" Is it really okay to tell him you love him? You've witnessed firsthand how complicated the court can get.

"I'll say then, if you want. But only if you can hear me as Lucio, not the prince. Okay?" He searches your face, wide-eyed and borderline frantic.

"Okay."

"I love you."

He pauses like he's surprised that that's the first thing that came out. You'd smile at his characteristic chaos, but your ears are singing with the confession. He drops his gloves and takes both your hands in his.

"I love you. Not as the prince, just me. I love you, and I want you to kiss me." He gulps, shaky and out of breath like he's sprinted here the whole way from the throne room. "If you want to. Only if you want to."

You nod, slowly, completely caught off-guard for once. "I want to."

"Thank fummhh -"

The words you know the queen would whack him for get cut off by the sudden press of his lips against your mouth. He doesn't give you much space to breathe, tugging at your clothes in a frantic effort to get closer, reaching one bare hand up to cup your face and pull you deeper. It takes a moment to respond, but he melts with a groan as soon as you do. He sags in your hold, putting your years of training to carry him into good use, taking in noisy gulps of air between needy open-mouthed kisses. One arm hooks around your neck and the other around your waist as he blindly tugs you deeper into the bushes.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this," he whispers hot against your cheek. "Let's leave the prince thing out of this from now on."

[cicerfics]

31 and 42 for Bond or Q please 💜

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

Q: A comprehensive list of 'tech doesn't work like that!!' moments from mainstream media, along with EXHAUSTIVE explanations of why this particular Hollywood scene is TOTALLY impossible/implausible.

Bond: ~Vibes~. Aesthetic blogger. Artsy shots of different locations around the world. Nature pictures. Beautiful sunsets and birds soaring majestically over the ocean. Zero text.

42. 3 comfort items

Q:

-A threadbare stuffed cat that he's had since childhood. Shh. Don't tell! Bond only gets to meet this cat after they've been dating for like six months, and Q preemptively tells Bond that if he makes any jokes about it, he (Bond) will be exiled to the couch for the next 6-8 business weeks.

-Some type of leaf collection Q made as a child. It was probably a school project. Students were asked to collect like 20 different leaves, press them, and label them. Q did 100 different types of leaves, and wrote detailed descriptions underneath about the genus, the tree's role in their biome, etc. etc. He put sooo much effort into it. Too much, probably. The teacher was like, "Haha, maybe calm down a little? Meanwhile, I probably need to speak to the headmaster about skipping you ahead a few more grades??" The other kids probably made fun of Q for being a tryhard. Q didn't care! He loved collecting those leaves and making his little booklet!! He's still proud of it!!

-A photo album containing pictures of every pet he's ever had. Per my animal-rescuer-Q headcanons, he's had at least 15. Most have since passed on to the other side, but Q still treasures his memories and pages through the photo album very often.

Bonus: A postcard Bond sent him once, ages ago. He'd been flirting with Q outrageously, right before heading off on a mission. Q rolled his eyes and firmly turned him down. Bond pouted. Q cited regulations. Bond argued that life was short (especially his!) and Q was being really dumb by refusing to let Bond take him to bed, just because of some nonsensical MI6 rules. Q argued that insults to his intelligence were not the most compelling prelude to a seduction he'd ever heard, and for heaven's sake, hadn't Bond ever considered poetry? Bond made a joke about blunt instruments (wink wink!) and said he didn't know any poetry anyway. He went off on his mission. But a week after he left, Q got a postcard from Bond. It was a painting of a huge, glorious sun. On the back, Bond had copied out some verses (including the last few lines!) from To His Coy Mistress.

Bond:

-An old arithmetic textbook published in the 1940s. It belonged to his father, and he used it to teach tiny!James math. Bond can still smell his father's cologne whenever he so much as looks at that book.

-His father's straight razor.

-His oldest and most decrepit pullover which is soooo comfy and broken in exactly right.

Bonus: A tiny origami frog. Once, Bond woke up in Medical (horribly injured and after being unconscious for nearly 24 hours) and found Q sitting beside his bed. Q had turned to origami to self-soothe, and he had feverishly created a menagerie of tiny animals while he sat vigil at Bond's bedside. Q quickly swept all the animals away when he saw Bond was awake, but Bond stole one. He keeps it safely tucked away in his flat (even though he'd like to carry it with him as a talisman), just for the reminder that somebody cares about him enough to sit at his bedside.

[darling-i-read-it]

Window Cracked Open

Jeff the Killer x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: god where do i start, reader is clearly deranged in the sense that she finds love in fear (yes that was a jab at me), blood, a knife, jeff lighty threatening the reader, overall scary writing?, mentions of jeff being too skinny and unhuman, descriptions of jeffs scarring (let me know if i missed any!) 

Author’s Note: i was trying to watch a romance show and it made me so deranged and sad that i wrote this because i feel more comfortable in fear than i do in love sometimes. 

Summary: Literally no plot just Jeff showing up one night 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

He always came in without warning. His limbs sprawled out, always gangly and white. Even in the dark, there was something illuminating about them. Monstrous. They moved too slow, with too much precision. Predatory. You never would have guessed he was once a human. Despite the two arms and two legs, he always seemed something otherworldly. You never knew when he would show. Sometimes it would be months without so much as a peep. Sometimes he would be gone mere days, mumbling something about the cold, pretending he felt normal feelings. 

The air coming through the window was chilly. It was crisp and comforting. Summer had finally started to dissipate. The sun had started to set sooner. The leaves started to turn. They fell to the ground, being run over by cars with the heater blasting. When the darkness fell over the night you could feel your muscles start to relax. The tenseness in your body rested when you got under warm blankets, a candle lit by your bedside. 

It had been weeks. The sticky sweat of the summer had Jeff on the run. You never knew where he went when he was gone for long periods of time. It just made you antsy. Even after plenty of time, you could never go to sleep at peace. You left the window cracked open, always prepared for someone to come climbing in, something that looked like a monster under your bed. 

You could have shut it. Locked it. Bought double locks or something, gone to the local hardware store and asked for better protection or cameras or something. It would put you at ease. Jeff would get the message. 

But God, where’s the fun in that? 

You were in between consciousness. You could still hear everything around you, make  note of the normal noises as they came and went. The fan blowing, causing your curtains to slightly move. The sound of your clock, ticking. The familiar fabric moving with the wind from the window. 

A creak on the window. 

At first, you didn’t even open your eyes. You dismissed it as something in your dreams, something you could almost touch. The comforting feeling of sleep was about to overtake you and honestly, you were ready to let it. You could ignore something that echoed far away, nothing more than a simple abnormality. 

Then a longer creak. Weight shifting on the sill. 

You opened your eyes. It was dark. You had a little night light in the corner of your room by the door. You could see the edges of it from where you were laying. Your body stayed still. Listening. Waiting. You could see your digital clock on the bedside table. Nearing the witching hour. 

Finally, there was a footstep on your carpet. You could barely hear it. If it wasn’t so quiet otherwise, you would never have noticed it. 

You put your palm against your mattress. You used it to shift your weight, sitting up. 

Jeff was standing by the window. You could see him only by his silhouette. Your eyes weren’t used to the darkness yet but you the gentle night light illuminated against his striking figure. All sharp. The connection between his limbs seemed stagnant. Holding themselves together only by the sheer need to. You recognized him by his familiar motifs. 

There was a long moment of complete stillness. Jeff stood at the window. You could imagine his eyes scanning the room, feverishly taking in his surroundings, understanding each and everything you had changed since he had been there last. You sat on the bed, watching him, breathing shallowly. You recognized that this was like a still from a horror movie. You knew that the fear in your chest was only narrowly alarming. There should have been a flight or fight guard behind it. Instead it was just a fear that was welcomed. A feeling you understood, one that you knew well. It paralyzed you from anything else. God, it was a nice feeling. 

Jeff moved. He walked towards your bed, putting both his palms on the comforter and crawling towards you. You could see more of his face as he moved, the night light flashing off his features in different ways. 

His permanent Glasgow smile was stained with dried blood. You lifted your hand towards him, putting it on his cheek. He sat criss cross applesauce in front of you. You had brought your legs towards your body to make room. You wanted to clean the wound, an innate instinct. You wondered how many times you had cleaned it. How many times he just returned it to its idle state. 

His eyes were wide. They always were. It showed no inclination of surprise, just a natural gaze. 

“Why the frown sweetface?” His voice broke the silence. It literally felt like it shattered, waking you from some sort of trance. You hadn’t realized you were frowning. How could he see your expression at all? You could hardly see his.

“You're bleeding.”

“Always.” Your hand dragged down from his cheek. It brushed over his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing. Then onto his hoodie. It looked like it had once been white but was now stained. Dirt. Blood. Guts. You left your hand against his chest. If he had a heart, it would be there. 

“Where have you been?” You wouldn’t get an answer you wanted. You asked anyway. 

“Here, there. No where.” His voice was raspy. Almost playful. “Didja miss me?” His voice remained just above a whisper. You swallowed hard.

“Yes,” you said, honestly. He smiled, as much as he could. “Do you wanna get some clean clothes?” You couldn’t even think twice about how long he had been wearing this set. 

“Sounds like a lotta work.” You half snorted. 

“Couldn’t be any more work than killing someone.”

“That has an end result.” 

“So does changing.” 

“You better watch your tongue,” he threatened, though it felt fake. He took his knife out from an unidentified face, flashing it in your face. It glistened in the night light. “You could be the next one on the other end of my knife.” 

“Is that a promise?” His version of a smile returned. You climbed off the bed, going towards your dresser. You had kept some things that looked mildly like Jeff’s size. You grabbed a different hoodie, a shirt and some slacks. He was watching you. You could feel it. 

You turned back to him. Large eyes watched your movements. 

You threw the clothes at him. He caught it, quickly, easily. 

“Get dressed.” 

“So demanding,” he muttered. He slid off the bed. His movements were always too easy. Too graceful. 

He had no qualms of getting dressed right there. He tossed his things to the side and you watched, climbing back into the bed and leaning against the wall. You watched him. His slender body, white as a sheet, moved like a ghost. He was impossibly skinny. Always cold to the touch, like a corpse. 

Once he had changed, he turned back to you. 

“Happy?” he snarled. 

“Very.” 

He crawled back onto the bed. Jeff sprawled onto the comforter. He pretended it was his, that the warmth and the safety was something he could live in. He knew it wasn’t what he wanted. But it was something he could enjoy, in small doses. 

“Do I get a space?”

“Sleep on the floor.” You scoffed. You shoved him aside, grabbing the top of the comforter and pulling it down. You climbed underneath it and he took the moment to also enjoy the warmth of the blankets. You faced him, cheek against your pillow. It was colder now that he had opened the window gap a little larger. You were going to get blood on your pillows. He likely wouldn’t be there when the sun rose. This would feel like nothing but a dream. 

He grabbed your hip, pulling you closer. He was freezing. Cold blooded, you swore. After a gasp you stifled your emotion. His hair smudged over his face, the tips of it touching your skin. He had pulled you to his chest, his grip like iron. 

Your eyes started to close. Sleep would come easily. You were still in the in-between of consciousness. 

You could feel his lips (or lack thereof) against the top of your head. He buried his face into the pillow so that his nose would remain in your hair, breathing in your shampoo. You would wake up with blood on you more than likely, the feeling of his kisses leaving you before you could comprehend them.   But you slept better with Jeff here then you did without him. All fear and anticipation dissipated. The knowing was far better than the unknown. You fell asleep in his arms, a crazy loopy reasoning in your head about the boy in your arms.

[hunxi-after-hours]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ��

(if you feel like it, no pressure ❤)

!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg I'm deeply flattered!!! hmm let's see...

我拿青春赌明天 / I’ll wager my youth against tomorrow — aka time war wangxian. hands down the fic that I'm most proud of, and not just because it's the length of a novella sdkfsjdl. I really pulled out all the stops on this one: disgustingly ornate prose, research, gratuitous references, almost 14k of annotations. at one point I had a spreadsheet going to track all the moving pieces, and I still have the original notebooks I wrote this in since I drafted this one almost entirely by hand

我借过一船梦 / I set sail on a borrowed boat of dreams — (takes deep breath, cups hands around mouth, yells) a-qiaaaaaooooooo

everything I ever write is always going to be about grief so unfollow me now etc etc; this one was the one where I was most obvious about it. maybe the most difficult fic for me to write, if the two-year gap between starting and finishing this fic was any indication. also a thinly veiled vessel for my love for bian yanmei

with you I'll dissolve ten thousand sorrows — okay I lied this one isn't precisely about grief (except where it is dklfjskd). easily the most lighthearted fic I've ever written. also I somehow wrote and edited this in 37 hours flat and I want to tap into that kind of insane energy again

space, skin, muscle, bone — my most popular fic, which I have somewhat mixed feelings about. in the 11 day span that I feverishly wrote this, I was both 1) unceremoniously booted from a job and 2) got a dream internship that led directly to my current job. secretly/not-so-secretly one of the most personal things I've ever written because at that point in the pandemic, it was both my goodbye letter to NYC and working in dance/theater

when darkness crashes against it — the first longfic I ever finished and one of my only multi-chapter works. it tracked me through some pretty big changes in life over the year I serialized it, and is the most gentle self-indulgence/wish-fulfillment fic I've ever written. marked a return to writing since I went through several lost years prior where I rarely wrote. also the first time I went through the "fic-as-goodbye-to-fandom" process so really, this one means a lot to me personally hhh

my stuff is still locked on ao3 since llm scrapers continue to run wild; feel free to reach out if you're curious!

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Um. Oops, I guess. I thought too hard about subby Jake and then blacked out and wrote this at like 2 AM last night. @indigofallingsky this one's for you babe. Enjoy?

Word Count: 9749

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, sub!Jake, softdom!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f rec), cussing, mommy kink, choking, edging, overstimulation, binds, crying during sex, all that good stuff. Y'all know me by now. 18+ MINORS DNI

---------------------

“Fuck, Jake…” 

You’re on the edge – your second orgasm of the night achingly close to overtaking you. You’ve got your thighs resting on either side of Jake’s face, sitting on his pretty mouth as he pleasures you with his tongue. 

He’s beneath you, arms extended and bound to the bed as his tongue swirls and flicks over your swollen clit. His cock – rock hard and leaking, bobs obscenely as he makes desperate little thrusts into the air. You’ve been edging him for what feels like hours. Getting him oh so close before yanking him back again. He’s moaning into your heat – helpless, whiny little noises that make your cunt throb as he works you. 

“Yes, oh shit. Right there, Jake.” 

Finally, your climax hits you, and Jake laps up your release like a man dying of thirst receiving a glass of ice water. Thighs quaking, you fall off him. 

His hair is fanned out on the pillow, his face is covered in your release, and his eyes are glassy with want and desperation. He’s the perfect picture of sin. 

“Please.”

His voice is a quiet little thing, pitchy and breathless, as he begs you to finally let him release. 

“Please what, baby?” You can’t help but tease him. He’s so pliant for you – desperate to be a good boy. 

“It hurts.” He whines, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as his chest heaves. 

“I know, sweet boy. You’re being so good for me.” You swipe your hand across his sweaty forehead, brushing his hair from his skin as he looks up at you with wide, doe eyes. 

“Can I ask for one more thing, baby?” 

He nods feverishly at you, wriggling his wrists the best he can in his binds. 

“Can I fuck you, Jakey? Please?” You tilt your head, taking note of the way his length twitches in the air. “You look so pretty taking my cock.” 

“Whatever you want.” 

You’ve never seen him quite like this – so needy and pliant, completely folding to whatever you ask of him. 

He watches you as you pull the strap from the nightstand drawer, securing the black harness to yourself in record time. You grab the lube, smearing a generous amount over your plastic cock. 

He watches, brown eyes wide and trusting. Once you’ve sufficiently lubricated your cock, Jake lets his knees fall open. You’re struck, suddenly, by how vulnerable he looks: wrists tied to the headboard, his cock red and raw, body slick with sweat, and his legs spread for you. 

He trusts you. With everything he has. He trusts you to take care of him. 

“You’re such a good boy for me, Jakey.” You tell him, nudging his rim with your cock. 

He squeezes his eyes shut as you slowly sink into him, taking care not to hurt him. Once you’re buried inside him fully, you pause, allowing him to adjust for a moment. 

“Please, mommy.” 

Mommy. 

That one word falling from his plump lips sets your very soul alight. You almost lose yourself. You never thought one little word could affect you the way that one just did. 

“You’ve never called me that before.” 

He looks embarrassed, the apples of his cheeks a bright red. 

“I like it. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you, okay?”

He nods as he begins to rock his hips into yours, begging you to start moving. Who are you to deny him? As pliant and submissive as he is now, you’re still a slave to his pleasure. He’s been so good for you – he deserves to be spoiled. 

You pull almost completely from him before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace. You grab his plush thighs, hoisting him up higher on your hips as you pound into him.

“Oh fuck, right there. Just like that! Please, Mommy, please!” He’s babbling, streams of curses and pleas falling from his lips seemingly without his knowledge of them. You’re not even sure he knows what he’s begging for.

Your thighs burn with the effort, but you don’t slow. Just like that, he’d said. You’ll give him what he wants if it kills you. 

You wrap one hand around his weeping dick, smearing his precum around. He’s so hard you almost pity him. His cock pulses with each thrust of your hips and you can tell that he’s right fucking there. 

“I wanna cum, Mommy. Please, can I cum?” He manages to ask in between moans, and the sound and sight of him almost makes you cave. 

Almost. 

“No.” You tell him, pumping him in time with the rhythm of your hips. 

He lets out a wail, thrashing his head side to side as tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He fights his restraints, yanking on the ties as little whines fall from his lips with reckless abandon. You can literally feel his cock throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat.

“Ple-”

“I said,” you emphasize your words with a particularly brutal thrust as you continue to pump him, “no. Not yet.”

“Fuck! Mommy, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop! You’ve gotta stop!”

“Hold it.” You don’t let up. You want to push him – see how far he can go. To what end? You’re not sure yet. 

“Fuck, please!” He cries, his thighs beginning to shake. “I'm gonna- stop. Stop, please!”

That does it.

You withdraw your hand from his cock and slow your hips down, lazily fucking into him as you let him catch his breath. 

“Jakey.” 

His eyes are closed. Tears are running down his cheeks. 

“Jacob, look at me.” You say, this time a little more commanding.

His eyes snap open at you, desperate and pleading. It’s like you can see his entire soul in his eyes – completely laid bare and exposed for you.

“You’ve been such a good, sweet boy for mommy, haven’t you?” You ask him. 

He doesn’t answer. 

“Answer me, baby,”

“I have.” He whispers. 

“You have what?” Just a little more teasing – just a little, before you give him what he so desperately needs. "Mommy wants to hear you say it."

“I’ve been a good boy for you.” 

You hum, still halfheartedly rocking into him. 

“Yes you have. And what do good boys get to do?” 

“They get to cum.” 

“That’s right, baby.” You smile at him, using the pad of your thumb to wipe away some of the tears that have gathered under his eyes. “You can cum, Jakey. But no hands. You cum on my cock only or not at all, okay?”

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. He’s never cum without being touched before, and you can see the trepidation swimming in his eyes. 

“Do you trust me?” 

He nods once. 

“So much” He says, and the honesty of his words makes your heart flutter. 

You grab one of his legs, hooking it over your shoulder as you pick your pace back up, ruthlessly driving the tip of your cock into his prostate. 

His face is screwed up in pleasured agony, little “uh”s escaping him with each breath. His cock bobs in the air, helplessly twitching. 

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Give it to mommy.” He groans loudly, tossing his head back as his mouth falls open. “Let me have it.”

“Oh my god, fuck! Mommy-” He cuts himself off with a wail, and you can see as his entire body tenses. 

“That’s it. You can do it, Jakey.” You praise him, fighting to keep your voice steady. Your cunt is throbbing with need. It feels like you haven’t cum in years, despite the fact that Jake has given you two orgasms already. 

“F-fuck! Oh fuck!”

His eyes roll back in his head and with an agonized, animalistic noise, he’s cumming –  ropes of cum flinging across his soft stomach. His mouth remains open in a silent scream as you keep fucking him through it.

Finally, he shivers at the overstimulation and you still in him. He’s panting, and tiny little whines still make their way out of him. 

“Jakey?”

He blinks his eyes open at you, and they’re clouded with pleasure. 

“I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

He nods and you slowly pull out, earning a low his from him at the feeling. Your thighs are slick, your arousal literally dripping down them. Unable to wait any longer, you reach your hand down to rub tight circles on your clit. 

Jake jerks his hands in his binds, drawing your attention back to him. 

“Ride me, mommy.” He pleads – and it is a plea. “I can stay hard for you for a little longer.” 

Your heart melts at him, your sweet, sweet boy. He was born to be your gorgeous little sub. 

“You’re such a good boy, Jakey. But no. You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.”

He shakes his head, jerky but determined. 

“Use me. Please. I want you to use me to get off.” 

Use me. 

You could cum from that alone. 

You unfasten the strap from your hips, placing it on the nightstand before hesitantly straddling his lap. 

You pan your eyes to his, giving him one last chance to say stop. 

He doesn’t.

Slowly, you sink down on him, burying him inside of you. The noise that he makes is almost inhuman – broken and overwhelmed.

You start to bounce on him, using one hand to rub your clit and the other to lightly squeeze his throat – yet another thing you know that he loves when you're dominating him like this.

“Fuck, please.” He manages to say through a wheeze. He’s crying in earnest now, fat tears making their way down his pretty face. “Mommy, please cum.”

Subconsciously, your walls tighten around him, and the whimper that he makes pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm is hard and aggressive, tearing through you so sharply it’s almost painful. You cry out Jake’s name as you allow the pleasure to wash over you. 

Jake, your sweet Jake, whines and whimpers as you clench around him but makes no move to free his tortured cock – instead letting you ride out your pleasure on him. You could cry over how good he is for you.

Finally, you pull off his now soft cock, and he sighs in relief. 

Once you’ve come back to yourself, you gently untie Jake’s wrists. His arms fall limply to his sides and you press soft kisses to the skin where it’s been rubbed raw. His stomach is sticky with his dried release, and you delicately swipe it off him with your t-shirt that had been haphazardly discarded at the beginning of the night. 

His eyes are half lidded and he almost looks drunk. You’d be concerned if it weren’t for the dopey grin he was sporting. 

“You okay, Jakey?” You ask him, leaning across him to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. 

“Mmm.” He hums quietly, looking at you from beneath his pretty lashes. 

Like a young child would, he extends his arms towards you, fingers flexing in the air as he silently begs for you. You smile softly, pulling the covers up and over the two of you before allowing him to wrap himself around you, burying his face against your skin.

He tucks his nose into your neck, little puffs of air hitting your neck. He's warm and pliant, wrapped around you like you're the only thing tethering him to this earth. He slings an arm over your waist and pulls himself towards you even closer, locking you into his embrace. His other hand blindly reaches out to find yours, threading his fingers with yours as he finally succumbs to sleep.

Originally, you'd planned on letting him fall asleep before rising to clean up after yourselves. But now that you're here, with Jake so sweetly curled into you, you can't bring yourself to do it.

You’ll clean the sheets tomorrow. For now, you’re content to just lay here as the sounds of his soft snores hit your ears. 

-------------

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[priestessame]

The Emperor's most favored II

FLUFF Part 2. As requested by 🎐annon ^^ I'm for sure making this a series of one shots~

Warnings: Slightly suggestive (^^) Fluff, angst, slight violence, name-calling, mentions of blood, and bullying. Sleepy mornings~~

Summary: The preparations of the lantern rite, bring unwelcome ghosts of the past.

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You rolled awake, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your eyes adjusted in the dimly lit chambers. You turned so that you were resting on your side, your sight catching the familiar silhouette sitting across from you.

The desk was only a few feet away from your shared bed. Now it had almost become routine for you to stir awake, only to find him like this. The mahogany silks pooled around his waist. You watched as your husband leaned over his desk. Your eyes followed the vast expanse of his bare back, golden and black scales trailing down the spine, the muscles flexing as he continued to work on his scrolls. Dark and gold arms constantly at work.

It was only the early hours of the morning, even before sunrise. But even gentle morning light wasn't allowed in. Even if the emperor was writing, special care was taken so that the curtains in his chambers were shut tightly. The only light allowed, was the dim lantern placed close to his desk. Strong enough to just illuminate the papers scattered around him. His hand was gentle as he wrote, careful not to wake you from the noise of the ink pen scratching on the scrolls. So much care, just to make sure you wouldn't be disturbed.

But the absence of his warmth would make you stir from your sleep nevertheless. Most of the time you would fall back asleep again. But some mornings, just like today you couldn't help but gathered the silks around you, wrapping them around your body before sliding off the bed.

You sunk into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You murmured against the crook of his neck as the emperor chuckled. "Did I wake you again, beloved?" He asked.

"No," You replied, pressing down the urge to drag him back to your bed. If it was up to you, you would have rolled around in each other's warmth, limbs entangled until late afternoon. Fortunately for Liuye and unfortunately for you, the emperor had more discipline than that. Once awake, the emperor would be consumed with his duties. Not that you felt neglected because of it. He always found time, especially for you.

You pressed yourself against him tighter, his skin felt feverishly warm this early in the morning. You looked over his shoulder, at the scrolls pulled open along the desk. The whorls and runes on it were enchantingly beautiful, and the strange script he seemed so fluent in was completely alien to you.

Although now your husband, there was so much of him that was still alien to you. How many languages was he fluent in that you couldn't even begin to understand? You would wonder. There may always be a certain distance between you and his past. Something you wondered if you could ever transcend. But most of your reservations would melt away the moment you felt his touch.

Morax pulled you into his lap and you went willingly. His arms guide you to straddle him. His fingers cupped your face before he pressed his mouth on your forehead. His breath brushed against the hollow of your throat. As he murmured sweet praises, you couldn't help but laugh against his mouth. For a man known for his restraint, he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. His fingers slid under the silk sheets you had pulled, sliding up your torso. He kissed you between your breasts, lips lingering just above your heart. "You should get more rest beloved," He said,

You brushed the hair framing his face, "Come back to bed Morax." You said through a pout, throwing your hands around his neck, "It's cold." His fingers dug into your hips, it was insane how his slightest touch would send your mind reeling. The scrolls on the desk were long discarded as he scooped you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you towards your bed, setting you down while sinking down himself.

His fingers brushed your cheek lovingly, after all, who was he to deny the empress of Liyue?

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It was late in the afternoon when the news reached you. With the emperor and his general out, you and Shi Lian sat in your study, trying your hand at another game of chaurang. The game board was spread out before the two of you, colored tiles arranged across it. Your lady-in-waiting rolled the dice, too engrossed in the game as Ganyu continued to narrate the finished details for the upcoming Lantern rite.

As excited as you were for the festival, you could hardly keep up with all the details. Especially now when Shi Lian was getting increasingly good at forming her tiles.

“And so Lady Nigguang wished to know your preferences.” Ganyu reported.

You gave the Adeptus an endearing look, “Ganyu, tell Ningguang that I completely trust her… aesthetic judgment.” You said, “Swans, deers, frogs- whatever she deems fit.”

Shi Lian moved her rose-carved tile forward, an intelligent attempt at defense but you saw through it immediately.

“As you wish, Your highness,” Ganyu replied.

“T-that’s not fair!” Shi Lian wailed, as you replaced her tile with your own. You laughed at her, feeling so at ease at the moment that nothing could have prepared you for the message the Yuheng had for you.

Keqing walked in just as Ganyu was about to depart, her gait as nonchalant as Ganyu’s was respectful.

“The Mililith have reported early visitors for the lantern rite, apparently.” Keqing continued, her tone as unbothered as ever.

“Visitors already?” You asked, although the lantern rite wasn’t that far away, you weren’t expecting any visitors at the palace for at least another week.

“From your homeland your highness.” Keqing said, “The carriages that brought them to the royal palace both bore the royal emblem.”

Your ears rang. Unconsciously you had dug into the gold-cut pawn so hard, it cut into your palm drawing blood.

Keqing's face twisted, "Clearly they didn't even bother sending a raven to announce their arrival." She started.

But you weren't listening, your hands going very very cold. "Who is it?" You asked, breath shallowing as you spoke.

"The 2nd princess and her Lord husband, your highness," she replied, her tone sensing your sudden discomfort. The two watched as the walls of safety you had built around yourself shattered like glass. You felt as if you were underwater.

"Your highness?"

Your eyes snapped towards her, “Take me there.” You said breathlessly.

Ganyu shifted on her feet, “Your highness, it might be better to wait for the emperor to return-

“No,” You replied at once, a morbid silence falling in the study. You stood up, placing the tile back on the board. Shi Lian followed your suit clumsily. “M-my Lady-“ she started. But it was like your mind had gone entirely numb.

“Take me to her, now.”

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She was already in your chambers, her tall silhouette reaching to inspect the ornate draperies.

Saili turned towards you, lips pulling themselves in a perfect smile. "Sister!" She exclaimed, reaching a hand out as if she expected an embrace. You felt as if you were about to throw up. Anger and disgust clouding your mind. Why, why after all these years was, she here again? Hadn't she made your life miserable enough?

You gave Shi lian a quick nod, dismissing her. Your lady-in-waiting gave you a concerned look but obliged. She scurried outside your chambers, leaving the two of you alone.

Your fingers curled, and you closed them in a fist, trying to hide the tremble. "I hope the weather was kind to you, sister." you tried.

"Look how lovely." She said, dismissing you entirely. Her fingers glided through the ornate curtains in your chambers. She inspected the fabric like she wanted to rip them up. She turned towards you again,

Her face was as beautiful as you remembered. Chestnut hair and wide eyes. The kind of beauty that makes people falter their steps. But those who could see past that really saw her crudeness. Out of the ones making your life miserable back home, the 2nd princess was one of the worst.

She walked towards you. You unknowingly took a step back for everyone she took forward until your dresser hit the back of your legs. "I'm afraid my husband, was rather upset at not receiving at least an invitation for your first Lantern rite." She said.

Her smile was razor sharp, "I thought they held high regard for family here in lieuye."

Family? You wanted to ask her, strong words for people who basically sold you off for convenience. Her face was close to you now. She smiled painfully wide as her fingers reached for your sleeves, "How long would it have taken to dye the fabric this deep blue?" She mused.

"I wouldn't know." You replied, mouth going dry. For that moment, you were back in your homeland. Fear coating your insides, your fingers dug into the dresser behind you.

They had called her the nation's first love when she was born. Lovely even as a child, she was perfect in everything she did. Even her most venomous words and actions were simply endearing to everyone else. Her violence was written off as harmless tantrums, especially because they were all directed toward you.

It had never mattered to her that her sapphire accessories were way more precious than yours. That given your status, you never were any competition to her, you couldn't be. Maybe it was that very reason that gave her a kick out of it, knowing you couldn't fight back.

Like ripping apart wings of insects, she liked to yank anything you were wearing off of you. Ripping out clumps of your hair as she pulled off your moon-stone hairpin in one tantrum, or tearing out the skin off your ear lobes when she demanded she wanted to wear your earrings instead. Her fingers would dig into you ruthlessly, nails scrapping your skin, the grip leaving marks across your hands.

Her mother, the princess consort would just pull her in her arms and laugh her tantrums off. Coaxing her with talks of sweets or new silks. Leaving you hunched over yourself, blood trickling down your face. Even then what hurt more was that you didn't have anyone to cry to. So, you had just stopped the tears or pain and anger, pulling on an emotional armour even her nails couldn't carve out.

As you two had gotten older, her violence towards you had receded, and she had just discarded you like a toy she no longer wanted to play with. To your own disgust, you were more than happy to be unseen. Elated that she had finally grown tired of you. But the fear would crawl up now and then. That one day as she saw you brush past her in the halls, she would remember the old doll she had thrown away. Wanting to rip it apart again. 

"Didn't you get lucky Y/n?" She mused, backing away from you.

She gave out a sigh looking around your chambers. She walked around curiously, her long robes flowing behind her. You felt pinned under her gaze, pushed into a corner just like you used to when you were younger. Suddenly seen again. The shadows that you thought you had left in your past, crawling back. You pushed through the pain, pulling your eyes away from her figure.

"Does your ship leave tonight sister?" You asked hating how your voice still wavered. Saili let go of the amulet she was inspecting, letting it clatter to the floor.

She had the audacity to look offended, "Why Y/n, you make it sound as if you want me gone." She laughed, her dazzling smile cutting into your skin. You felt the disgust coil in your stomach, although honey-tongued now, you remembered her morbid smile as she had told you about Morax's ugly scales and horns. How his talons would rip through your skin when he tried to touch you.

"It's a long trip back home." You replied, "It would be terrible if you got caught in sea-storms."

"It is a long trip, isn't it?" She said, your stomach dropped at her tone, "It's days and days on the sea, so much of the same blue makes you sick. You start wondering if there's anything alive this far into the ocean at all." She gave a chuckle, "Doesn't it feel like the ship would sail off the edge of the earth? She continued, suddenly sounding a lot more malicious.

You found yourself holding your breath, waiting for the mask to fall.

"We threw you away to the remote end of the earth and you still managed to wobble up like the trash you are." She sneered out.

"Sai-" You tried to reason with her, but you knew your words wouldn't matter. Her expression became more erratic, thoughts of who she was and where she was standing clouded by her rage.

"Just because they gave you a pretty jade crown doesn't really make you a queen, low-born." She growled out, her hands reached for your face and you flinched. She curled her fist into your thick hair, yanking you hard.

For the first few seconds, your body shut down from habit. Going limp against her anger, mind retracting within itself taking you away from the situation entirely. You were far too used to it. Far too used to just shutting your eyes close until her tantrum was over.

"Don't forget your mother was just a common musician whore." she said, her breath putrid on your face. For the first time in years, you reached for your anger. And the beast leaped up like it was waiting for your one command all along.  And just like that, you snapped.

She gasped as you threw her down, your jade ornament clattering down with her. Your hair tumbled down, falling around your face.

Her eyes were wide with shock. Her figure sprawled on the floor, looking up at you, mouth stuck half-open.

"Enough." You breathed out. Your body practically convulsed from the pent-up rage. Unlike her haphazard rage, yours was composed and cold. "Touch me again," You spoke through the tremble, your voice dangerously low "And I’ll have you thrown off Qingyun Peak. "

In the moment of silence and shock, you thought you had actually won.

"How dare you?" she said, "Do you think you can command me? You wrench?" she screamed at you.

In that split second, the door flung open. Keqing was a blur of violet. She moved so swiftly; your own eyes couldn’t keep up with her. Her blade was pure lightning. Within a split second, she was between the two of you.

She wrung the 2nd princess’s wrist behind her as she cried out in pain, "Daring to touch the Empress will cost you much more than just your hand." She said.

"Let her go Keqing." You said sadly, much to your Yuheng's surprise. "She poses no threat to me." you completed.

Before you, she really looked pathetic. The frizzled hair, fingers still tightly curled around your jade crown, her eyes wide and whimsical. She pointed it accusingly at you, "You have no right," she sneered.

"Get the princess's ship ready." You commanded, "She will not be staying for the lantern rite."

"Making an enemy of your own kingdom, do you think your Beloved emperor wouldn't cast you away if he knew your true bloodline?" she whimpered at you, already lost.

"Is that so?"

The sudden voice surprised you too. A voice that could move mountains.

Morax stood at the end of the room, flanked by Xiao and Bosacius by his side. He wore traditional liyue clothes, gold and ebony robes, with a rounded neck. They fell across his tall frame like a waterfall of dark colors. Dragon scales were sewn in along the elaborate sleeves, the beast made of gold thread, curling around the bodice.

He walked inside the chamber, unforgiving eyes pinned on the 2nd princess. “Slander against the Empress herself is high treason.” He said, "Just the thought of profane words against her is subject to Lingchi."

Her face dropped with horror.

His voice was still low, yet stripped of any kindness. Urging, beckoning her to try and challenge his authority. It sent chills down your spine. "You will ride the ship willingly, or I will have you and your husband impaled to the mast on the way back."

Silent tears ran down her face as she dared not looked up at any of you, surprisingly you felt no real satisfaction. Finally realizing how little she had always been compared to you. Keqing moved to take your ornament from her hands but you stopped her midway.

"Keep it." You said to her, hold its weight for the rest of your life. Let it remind you of where you really stand. "It's the closest you'll ever come to holding true power."

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His fingers moved deftly as he fixed your hair. It was just the two of you again, your silks pooling around your frame as he placed you in front of the mirror. Experienced fingers running through your locks gently. The afternoon had bled into a crimson evening, painting your shared chamber a deep auburn. The failing light caught the scattered gold embellishments around you, making them glitter faintly. Not wanting to break the somber silence, you couldn’t help but stare at the gold pieces instead. The beading of the draperies, the curved points of the chandelier, and most of all the molten-gold color of his irises.

You winced as his fingers brushed against a particularly sore part and he halted at once.

"I'm sorry." He said finally.

Morax wrapped his arms around your frame, "I promised that I would protect you." He said, sounding broken. He hung his head on your shoulder, and the lamp in your room flickered. "And yet I have failed you." His voice was heavy like you had never heard before. He hugged you lightly, as if he put any more strength in this touch, you would shrug it off.

The whole thing was so absurd that you laughed as you leaned back into him. Wrapping your hands around his arm. It echoed around the room, you looked up at him, his eyes wide with confusion.

“You’re a bit of a fool aren’t you emperor?” you said.

“I couldn’t even stop them from hurting you.” He replied.

You sighed against his warmth, shaking your head softly.

"My past was mine to confront," you told him.

“Y/n-“ He began again, “Even so..”

“All my life, I have only had bruises.” You replied, “Some of hurt and some of shame.” Your fingers ran over his as you inspected the bump on your head, “For the first time, these don’t feel so bad.”

“If it wasn’t for the peace you give me Morax, I would have been ashamed of them all my life.” You said, sinking back into his warmth.

Being held like this was the safest you had ever felt in your entire life. “The kind of safety I feel with you cannot be measured in actions.”

“So,” You picked up the ornate comb beside you, “Just go back to brushing my hair.” He finally chuckled, deep voice ringing in his chest. He lifted your hair from the name of your neck, pressing a feverish kiss on your skin, “As you wish.”

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Ayyy I finally finished this one ^^

[mothdruid]

The Physics of Love - Part Four

series masterlist | part two | part three| part five

pairing.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader (nickname Nova)

word count.

1.6k

warnings.

this content is meant for those who are 18 and older, 18+ content, mdni, smut, fingering, dry humping, swearing, almost getting caught.

authors note.

i wrote this because i need them to do something. i know that college students are horny (i am one, trust me) so i figured that they would both be a touch too busy but would try to have small moments together that were hot and heavy. tbh, this chapter doesn't have a lot to do with plot, so you could skip it if you didn't want to read smut

The texts between the two of you became more frequent. A lot more frequent. Good morning and goodnight texts were now the start and end to both of your days. You two were spending a lot more time together, time that wasn’t just your tutoring sessions. The two of you made it a habit to get coffee before your morning class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You had made it a habit of bringing him a snack during his research periods, even though he told you you didn’t have to.

“You didn’t need to do this, Nova,” Bob said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled at the nickname, something about the nickname he had started to call you. He only started calling you it out loud after you saw a text from Mickey on his phone pop up. That’s when Bob finally explained that was the code name Mickey gave you. Something about how you were new and exciting, just like a Nova in the night sky.

“Well, I had time in between classes, so I figured I’d stop by and bring you a snack.” It was starting to become apparent that you always had ‘time between classes’ to bring him a snack.

“It’s almost like you like me or something,” Bob joked.

“Nope, not at all,” you joked back.

Bob wrapped an arm around you, giving you a side hug. You wrapped your arms around his midsection lightly, looking at the table all of his research was on. It looked like a foreign language you had taken only one semester of, some of it making sense and some of it not.

“Gross,” you whispered, looking at the papers with a grimace.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” Bob whispered back. He placed the small bag of snacks you brought on the table, covering some of the papers up.

“How much longer do you have?” You asked.

As a grad student Bob didn’t really have specific hours for ‘class’. He didn’t really have an actual ‘class’. Yeah, Professor Coleman would come in and supervise him most of the time, assist him with research and projects. But for the most part Bob was on his own, running theoretical equations and talking with other grad students about their research. It seemed isolating and boring to you. Made you glad you wouldn’t have to do grad school for your degree.

“Maybe an hour or two, I’m waiting for Coleman to stop by and cross check something for me.”

“Ah,” you responded with.

There was a moment of silence before you two looked at each other.

“Do you know when he is going to be here?” You weren’t heavily implying anything, but you were implying something.

“He told me he’d be here at about 3:45.”

The both of you looked up at the clock. 3:15.

With that the two of you were all over each other. Bob had you backed up to the table all of his stuff was on, lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands were on your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, one hand on the back of his neck while the other rested on his shoulder. The frames of his glasses were pressing against the side of your nose, going slightly askew on his face.

This had been a common theme for the past few weeks. Well, two weeks to be exact. It had been two weeks since your date, and two weeks of never being able to go the whole way. It wasn’t because neither of you wanted to, because you definitely did. It was just proving to be harder than you initially thought. Between your two roommates, and Bob living with Mickey, it felt near impossible. Bob didn’t want your first time to be with someone else present, and neither did you. But the making out and dry humping was starting to get old.

You could feel Bob getting hard through his jeans, making you moan into his mouth. He groaned when he heard your sound, rocking against you a little harder. There was a slew of sounds coming from you, soft and needy. The groans coming from Bob were going straight to your cunt. Lips were moving to your jaw, trailing down to your neck while slotting a leg between yours.

Soft locks threaded through your fingers, which earned you a soft whine when you tugged them. You started grinding onto his thigh, moaning at the pressure you were receiving. One of Bob’s hand moved to your ass for a squeeze. With one hand on your waist and the other on your ass he started guiding you along his thigh. His kisses on your neck stopped, only for him to rest his head against your temple. His hot breath started fanning over your face.

“Ah fuck,” Bob groaned.

His glasses were digging into the peak of your cheekbone. You tugged his hair again and fisted the back of his shirt. You felt the pleasure mounting in your abdomen, urging you to rock against his thigh with more vigor. The way his cock was digging into your hip was helping encourage you. You whimpered his name, which pulled a groan from him.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Bob said, “feel you around me.”

“Please,” you whimpered.

The two of you knew damn well that this was dangerous, something that should not be tested. Fucking on campus was a one way ticket to trouble. But that was barely on your minds at this point. All Bob could think about was getting you wrapped around him. Feeling your heat consuming him, welcoming him in. Bob craved it so badly, but he knew that now wasn’t the time or place to fuck you for the first time.

Without warning the pressure of Bob’s thigh was gone. His hands moved to your waist and gripped you tight, turning you around to face the table. His hands moved to the front of your jeans, undoing the button. A moan escaped you when his hand slipped down the front of your jeans and panties. He was resting his head on the area behind your ear, every breath and groan being loud and clear to you now.

“This okay?” Bob asked while he slipped two fingers onto your clit.

The circling of your clit was making it hard to speak, your brain focusing only on his motions. You nodded and moaned is response, rolling your hips back against his crotch. Your hands were gripping the table tightly, not wanting to fall if your legs gave out from pleasure. Bob was nestling his face into the side of your head and neck, taking in your scent while covering your in his hot breath.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Bob whimpered as he rolled hips hips into your ass.

“All yours,” you whined.

Bob was practically hunched over you now. The weight of his chest pressed into your back, finger working your clit. His lips had latched onto the small spot under your ear lobe, sucking and licking the spot tenderly. Bob kept rutting his hips into your ass, the rhythm more feverish. It was all becoming too much for the both of you.

White hot pleasure washed over you, whines and moans falling from your mouth. Bob’s free hand snapped up to your mouth, muffling the noises that were coming from you. His fingers on your clit didn’t stop, only slowed but continued to work you through your orgasm. You felt Bob’s hips start to stutter against your ass and groan into your skin, signaling one thing.

The two of you slowly stopped your motions, Bob’s fingers and hips stopping. Your palms were flat on the table, trying to keep you standing straight up. These stolen moments between the two of you were some of the best you’d ever had. Honestly, they had slowly crept there way to the top of your college career thus far.

Bob was resting his head against your shoulder, trying to collect himself. He wished dearly the the two of you weren’t in the research lab. The idea of cuddling you in a bed, his or yours, was on the forefront of his mind. Being able to provide all the aftercare you deserved, not just a quick orgasm then rushed collecting of yourselves. He was still reeling slightly from his own orgasm, shocked he had come just from rutting against you.

“Hey,” you whispered. Your rested your head onto his, creating some form of cuddling.

“Hey,” Bob looked up at you with so much love in his heart.

He had never met someone who had captivated him as much as you did. You were truly a nova in his life. New, exciting, and bright. He was more than ready to be the white dwarf to your red super giant. Creating a runaway fusion of love, something that scientists would try to study for years. Wondering the exact make up of it all.

Bob pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, which earned a smile from you. Only a handful of seconds had passed by before you heard the door open. The both of you started to scramble. You quickly faced away from the door, buttoning your jeans quickly. Bob was finger combing his hair and adjusting his glasses, now wondering when he would be able to get to the bathroom to clean himself up.

“I’m going to act like nothing happened, okay?” Professor Coleman stated.

The both of you nodded your head, agreeing with him. With that you excused yourself, wanting to escape the awkward situation quickly. Professor Coleman gave you a smile and wave, telling you he would see you tomorrow in class, which you didn’t really wanted to be reminded about right now. Bob pressed a quickly kiss to your temple, promising that he would text you when he was done.

starboy: I can’t believe that Hondo almost came in.

Nova: you’re telling me! but he probably feels responsible, since he set us up

starboy: Maybe.

starboy: Do you have any plans for Saturday night?

tags:

@wkndwlff

@thedroneranger

@callsign-sprout

@redbarn1995

[mastermindmiko]

The Malfoy Sister (Part 5)

Pairing: Harry Potter + fem!reader

Word count: 4337

Summary: Harry tries to reconcile your relationship

Trigger warnings: Fighting, kissing, getting caught, smut

Part 6 and my masterlist

Requests are open

It only took Harry seven hours and twelve minutes and fourteen seconds to come try to talk to you again. He tried before but every time he came near you, you were with Draco and he gave him a glare that would’ve sent him six feet into the ground. He tried again and again, but you had Draco or Theo. He tried to talk to you in your compartment but you had the entire Slytherin trolley locked, Draco’s doing. He tried to talk to you in one of the toilets but you had the door locked. He knocked on the door, but he didn’t get a reply just the sound of the sink running.

He thought of sending you a hundred letters, but due to previous experience he knew it would only make you more angry. He decided to apologize and make it up to you after break. He would have two weeks to come up with a brilliant plan. The burrow burned down, and so did the paper that had his speech. He was stressed, he couldn’t remember the words that he wanted to say that’s why he wrote it down in the first place. He didn’t come out of Ron’s room almost the entire time. Mrs. Weasley and everyone else was worried about him, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than winning you back. When anyone asked him what was up with him, he would just shrug his shoulders. Ron and Hermione did all the explaining.

Remus asked Harry if he would be in need of some flowers and Harry nodded feverishly. He sent a letter to Neville asking him for flower recommendations. Harry told him he needed something romantic. Neville said Camellias. Remus and Harry went out to get a large amount of flowers. They were exactly a hundred different colors for different meanings.

The train ride back was spent searching for you, but he couldn’t find you. The male Malfoy was on the platform so naturally you didn’t miss the train, but he couldn’t find you. It was as if you were invisible, to the point where he had to check if he still had his invisibility cloak with him. He entered the Slytherin Trolley and he was pulled into a wall with a wand under his throat. He thought it was you because of how this had happened to him before, but the angry “Potter” alerted him that it wasn’t you. Everyone else was in their own compartment, no one was watching this scene unfold.

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked Draco, paying no mind to the wand up his throat. A fist slammed into his face. He was punched again until Draco let go of him and he stepped back. Both of them knew regardless of what the situation was that if one of them hurt the other, you’d go feral. Draco took a deep breath and he said, “Don’t fucking talk to her.”

“That’s not your choice, she’s not your puppet.” Harry said angrily. Draco wasn’t going to ruin his chances of getting you back with threats. Draco scoffed and folded his arms, “Yes, but unlike you Potter I don’t want her hurt. Not everyone is Dumbledore’s puppet.”

Harry was shocked by his statement. Of course you would tell your brother, he wasn’t mad. You weren’t going to leave him even with the tempting promise of being with Harry. He felt so stupid for telling you that. It was true that Dumbledore told him, but it was never his intention. He lost his virginity to you, he wouldn’t go that far for an order. “I didn’t do what Dumbledore told me to do.”

Draco rolled his eyes and Harry knew that of all people Draco wasn’t going to believe him. Draco poked his finger into Harry’s chest and said “Don’t come near her.” He said, slowly. “I know some spells that could turn you inside out.” He turned around and walked into a compartment, but not before checking that Harry was out of the Slytherin trolley.

Harry needed to know what was up with Malfoys threatening to turn him inside out, but first, he needed to find you. Just as he closed the door to the trolley, he was met face to face with you. His eyes were wide and he fumbled with his clothes to try to take out his paper to start the speech, but you hit his shoulder with yours and entered the trolley. Before you were completely out of sight he slipped a Primrose into your bag, he had a protection charm around it so it wouldn’t lose a petal or get bent. “I can’t live without you.” That’s what a Primrose means and Harry meant it.

***

The Great Hall was loud as it always was and you were busy chatting with Theo about your breaks. You saw each other at Christmas multiple times, but you wanted every detail since when you meet, you both just sit in silence and let the adults talk. He was talking vividly about how boring his break was and how much his father hates him. It was weird how he can make describing something boring interesting. You had your bag beside you, the one that you always had with you. You were about to show him the gift that Draco got for you, but something else caught your eye.

It was a Primrose and you heard Theo say, “I can’t live without you.” Your face turned into a smile at his words even though you weren’t sure what brought it up. “Aww Theo-” You were caught off by him saying “No that’s not what I meant-” He shook his head as your face started to turn into confusion and a slight scowl. He shook his head again as he waved frantically, “No, of course I can’t live without you. That’s just not what I’m saying-” Your expression turned into one filled with confusion. Theo stopped talking and put his hands down, he took a deep breath before saying, “The flower, It means ‘I can’t live without you.’ That’s what I meant.”

Your mouth turned into an O shape in understanding. You tilted your head towards him as a way to ask if he got this for you and he snuck it into your bag during the train ride. He shook his head as he shrugged his shoulders. You turned to Draco and asked him if he gave this to you. He said no. So your eyes trailed to the only person in this Hall that would give you a flower without being scared of having his head ripped off. He was sitting across the Hall looking at you with a kind smile and you gave him a sarcastic, rough one as you whispered, “Incendio.” You turned back to Theo and you continued chatting as if nothing had happened.

Harry watched, mouth open as the beautiful flower turned into flames. He heard Ron snicker but he gave him a sharp look that made him stop immediately and stuff food in his mouth. He was hurt but he knew he hurt you a lot more. He wasn’t going to give him. He had that Gryffindor determination after all. He just had to try harder, and he will. Hermione tapped his shoulder and said “I don’t know If I should tell you this especially now-” Her eyes trailed to the flower’s flame that was just beginning to die down. “But uh she sent me a letter on boxing day. She asked if you were okay after the burrow situation. She said that her aunt came back very jolly, but said that you unfortunately haven’t been maimed or anything. She wanted to make sure. She told me not to tell you.”

He didn’t deserve you. He really didn’t deserve you. He had broken your heart and stomped on it, but you still had to know if he was okay. He’s an idiot. A big idiot that didn’t cherish the wonderful thing in front of him when he had it. An idiot who has anger issues and can’t control what he says to the person he loves the most. He was supposed to be the person who loved you the most but he hurt you the most. He left the Great Hall and went to his dorm. Where 99 flowers were left. His dorm mates complained about the flowery smell that was all over the dorm except Neville who just admired them. He held his wand and he contemplated setting them on fire, but he decided to have them there as a punishment for himself. He needed to feel pain at least a fraction of what he caused you to feel. He scratched his forehead and he decided on two things. That he never hated himself more than he does now, and how losing someone to death hurts less than losing someone while having them in front of you.

He looked at the large bouquet and he noticed the twenty seven purple hyacinth. He plucked one out of the bouquet and he put his hands in his pocket to make sure that the paper was still there. He headed out of the common room. He couldn’t have you, he doesn’t deserve you, but you deserve an apology so he was going to give it to you.

He walked towards the dungeons, dinner would be probably over by now. He knew you’d walk through here because that was the place you always walked through. He knew it from the countless times he walked you to your common room after dark. He sat on the floor, back rested against a wall and he waited for you to walk past. He heard your voice and he jumped to his feet. You walked with Theo and as soon as you laid eyes on him you stopped talking. Nott was glaring at him and he couldn’t say he was offended. He would glare at himself too.

He walked closer to you and he could see Nott straighten up beside you. You looked at him with your face blank. He kept a few spaces away from you and he was very conscious of Nott fisting his hands. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, and you have every right. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either, and you’re probably sick of how much I ramble but I just have one last one. It’s long and I’m sorry if it will annoy you.” He took the paper out of his pocket and he was reminded of the flower. He took it out of his pocket and he held it in front of him. “I got you this too. I’m sorry if it’s cheesy and you don’t like it. Someone told me that it’s the best way to win back a girl and I’m grasping onto anything really.”

He had a slightly embarrassed, shy, sheepish expression on his face and you didn’t like how much you like that face he made. You took the flower from his fingers and you were sure not to touch him. You weren’t sure what would happen then. His face brightened when you did. Harry then looked at the paper and he was shocked to find holes all through the paper. The flower poked holes through his paper and he couldn’t read a single thing. From the amount of times he practiced it, you’d think he would have memorized it but with the nervousness he had, he wouldn’t remember a single thing.

He took a deep breath, he was going to have to make it up. You accepted his flower and that was major progress, he couldn’t mess it up. However your facial expression hasn’t shown any signs whether negative or positive, so he didn’t really know. He opened his mouth but he heard your voice, “Tell me Potter-” He was hurt by the usage of his last name, but he deserved it. “You’re apologizing and that’s good, but did Dumbledore actually tell you to do that?” Dumbledore did tell him to do that, but that wasn’t the case at all. “Yes but-”

“Then I don’t see a reason why you should keep talking and waste my time.” You said, sternly. You kept your emotions at bay. You walked away with Theo walking beside you. The flower was still in your hand and you heard Harry shout, “I didn’t mean to-”

You turn around as you halted with your steps. “But you did!” You screamed at him. You continued to walk and Theo leaned in closer to you. He tapped one of the flower’s petals and said, “I’m sorry and regretful.” You looked at it again and you threw it on the floor. You weren’t going to forgive him anytime soon, you knew you would eventually. You loved him and that’s the way love works, but even then every moment you’ll spend together will be overshadowed by the fear of having that look of pure hate again on his face.

***

If there was one thing you knew how to do, it would be holding a grudge, especially with Harry. You’ve had years of practice after all. He would try to talk to you and you would leave him without even sparing him a glance. As he said, you had every right to. You had almost cracked once you received a grand total of twelve flowers.

Three purple hyacinths. One during class, one at the great hall and the one he gave you. One was on the ground and the other two were in the trash.

One sunflower. You got it after class when you had received the top mark in a potions test. Harry didn’t use the book, and you knew that. Theo told you it meant adoration and you threw it in a bubbling cauldron.

One Camillia. It seemed like Harry was following you around because he had a flower for every occasion that could fit in the event that had just happened. You were out with Theo and Draco near the black lake. You were avoiding looking at the tree. You had sneezed and then you scrunched up your nose. You giggled and as soon as you finished laughing, a flower landed in your hand. “You’re adorable.” That’s what it meant. You ‘accidentally’ dropped it on the ground and you stepped on it. It felt like a huge resemblance to how Harry stepped on your heart.

One stock. You had a history of magic quiz, and due to conflicts with your feelings you hadn’t been able to study well. You stayed up all night and you woke up with dark circles under your eyes while your hair was a mess. You felt ugly and Harry knew you would. Last term you couldn’t count the amount of times you stayed up studying and Harry had to tell you how gorgeous you were either way. “You’ll always be beautiful to me.” That’s what it meant, and you hated how you felt because he remembered. You whispered, “Confringo.” The flower exploded on your desk.

Six red Chrysanthemums. Theo didn’t need to tell you what they meant because each of them had a note attached to it. “You’re so much smarter than me and I love that about you.”

“You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met. I love that.”

“You’re very dedicated and stubborn. It makes me more attracted to you and love you.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you’d make fun of me, but during break, I searched for houses in Mrs. Weasley’s magazines. I love you, please talk to me.”

“What can I do to make you believe that I love you?”

The other two were short and simple. “I love you.” You looked at what was in common with all of them and you knew what the flowers meant. You kept the notes without anyone noticing but each time you received the flower, you’d pick off each of its petals. You wanted him to stop with all the flowers, but Theo told you not to because he wanted to brush on his flower knowledge. You rolled your eyes and you agreed. You were a bit curious on how he got all that flower knowledge. You kept receiving more and more flowers. You didn’t keep a single one of them. You received the same group of flowers repeatedly along with Lilies that meant first love. You never thought much of them. You know if you did, you’d start crying.

One day, you were walking and then Harry was behind you. He was crying and you hated how you couldn’t change your habits. You cupped his face and you asked him what’s wrong. He kept apologizing saying that he didn’t know. He kept saying that he loves you and he knows you’ll never forgive him after this. He told you that you should go to the hospital wing. You furrowed your eyebrows, and you acknowledged the blood stains on his hands. You wondered what he could’ve possibly done now. You went to the hospital wing, and with the sight that you saw. You couldn’t see anything after that.

***

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You’re too heroic for that, I know.”

“Can you talk to her about forgiving me?”

“You’d think I’d do that after you killed me.”

“You’re still breathing.”

“Barely.”

“So, I take it you won’t talk to her.”

“Go to your classes Potter. You’ve been here for three days. I don’t think she’ll want to see you when she wakes up.”

You heard this muffled conversation around you as you started to gain consciousness once again. You groaned loudly and you heard the voices stop. You heard a sound of footsteps rushing towards you then you heard a shout, “I told you to get away from her you idiot. Pomfrey said that she won’t be in her right mind.”

You shifted slightly and your eyes focused on beautiful green eyes. You smiled softly. He had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. He had a worried expression on his face. He placed a hand to your forehead to check if you had your temperature up. You grabbed his wrist slowly and you placed a kiss on his hand. You looked to the side of your bed and you saw over twenty flowers. Several Purple hyacinths along with even more red chrysanthemums. You plucked a stock from the big bouquet and you handed it to him. He walked away from you slightly and you finally registered the fact that you were in the hospital wing. The smile dropped off of your face when you caught sight of Draco in his bandages. Your brain started to remember the past events and your eyes landed on Harry. “You! You foul git! You almost killed my brother! I swear I will hex you-” You started to get up in search of your wand and even to punch him a few times.

Harry rushed towards you and he placed you back on the bed. “Madame Pomfrey said that you shouldn’t be out of bed.” You punched his face as soon as he sat you back down on the bed. “I think she’ll understand wanting to kill you for doing the same to my brother.” You started to squirm in his hold as you started hitting his back repeatedly. Your body started to grow tired because of how you’ve been unconscious for three days. You started to relax your arms a bit and he leaned you back against the pillow.

You were still furious. Your expression was filled with anger as you looked at him. He fiddled with his ring and you noticed which ring it was. Your eyes softened slightly. He held both his hands into yours and he rubbed his thumb over your hand. Even in your weak state you could still feel butterflies. You haven’t touched him in so long. You were about to pull away until he said “Please, please-” the second was more desperate than the third. His voice even cracked. “Listen to me.”

You stayed silent and Harry took that as a sign to start talking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. All I do is hurt and I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry. For your father. For Malfoy. For hurting you. For everything. I didn’t mean what I said, I swear I didn’t. I was just so jealous of Nott and how you didn’t want to leave with me. You just said his name and everything went red. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt, and I regret every second of it. Dumbledore did tell me to do it, but I never did it because he told me to. I swear. I haven’t even thought of what he said when I’m with you. Honestly, I don’t think of anything when I’m with you except how much I love you, and I do. I really really do-” Tears started to fill his eyes and you cupped his face brushing away the tears that fell onto his cheeks. “I had this entire monologue planned for you and fireworks. I just didn’t have the chance to show them to you. I even bought you a hundred flowers. I just really want you back-” Your eyes started to water too. “But I don’t deserve you. I know I don’t. You don’t even have to say anything, I just want you to know all this-”

You cut him off with your lips on his and you could feel more tears fall on his cheeks. The kiss was salty and desperate. Draco was watching the scene unfold and just as the kiss deepened he was about to shout when madame pomfrey entered. “Alright, pack it up Mr. Potter. She’ll need to gain back her strength.”

She handed Draco a sleeping draught and he was out cold. She gave you a calming draught and told Harry to leave you to relax for a bit. He laid on the bed beside you, and you laid on his chest. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me about your brother?”

“Don’t push it. I’ll punish you as soon as madam Pomfrey lets me out.” You said and you could feel him tense under you. You looked up to find his cheeks red, and you asked him, “Did you do anything with anyone else?”

He shook his head and you mumbled, “Good boy.” You trailed your hand down his chest and were grateful that you were both covered with the white blanket. “Did you touch yourself?” You asked and he shook his head again. You reached his pants and you put your hand down his boxers. “Why?” You asked as you teased him with your hand.

“I was a bad boy and I didn’t deserve to feel good while thinking about you. I hurt you and I deserve a punishment.” He whimpered and your panties started to feel wet. You nodded your head as you started to climb over him, “You’re right you do deserve a punishment.” you took your hand out of his pants and he whimpered again. You pulled down his pants and his boxers. He ran his hands up and down his length. You pushed your underwear aside, and you sank down on his length. Harry moaned too loudly and you pressed a palm to his mouth. You looked over to check that Draco wasn’t awake, with that draught you were sure that he wouldn’t be awake for a while.

“Mommy, I don’t deserve to feel your tight pussy.” he whined and he tried to pull out of you, but he couldn’t stop feeling that amount of pleasure after such a long time. “You’re right Harry, you don’t.” You whimpered his name specifically and you felt him twitch inside you. “But you want to please me don’t you?” He nodded his head feverishly. You stayed on top of him for a while and you laid flat on his chest. You heard his breaths getting heavy. You didn’t even move! “Harry. Don’t cum I want you to stay inside me.” You said sternly and he whined loudly. You pulled his hair and you hissed at him. “Don’t be a bad boy. People could hear us.”

He nodded and he tried to hold in his cum. He started to regulate his breathing and as soon as he relaxed inside you. He fell asleep and you fell asleep on top of him for a quick nap. After thirty minutes, Madame Pomfrey came back and she saw you laying on top of Harry. “Mr. Potter, I told you to leave her to rest alone!” She shouted and both of you started to wake up. She was marching towards you and you both acknowledged the situation. Her hand was aiming for the blanket and you both started shouting “No! No! No! No! No!” You both tried to fix yourselves but him being inside you made it much harder. She took off the blanket and she screamed loudly.

a/n: the amount of flower research that I did for this