#them asking him why he didn’t just stop the war

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

hii i love ur work and was wondering if u can write where reader has a panic attack and sukuna is there to comfort them!! if not that’s okay 💜💜

Panicky

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, tw panic attack, description of separation anxiety, soft!sukuna, fluff, comfort

An: you guys know how much i love writing soft!sukuna.

The sick sinking feeling arrives as an intrusive thought at first. When Sukuna has been gone, away handling “curse affairs” for too long, your brain will play tricks on you. What if he’s not coming back? What if he’s in trouble?

The realistic side of you knows that Sukuna has lived for thousands of years, and it’d take an army of the strongest sorcerers to take him down, but those thoughts still slither into your mind when he isn’t there to talk some sense into you.

He had been gone for too long. He said he wasn’t going far, so why has he been gone for four days? You paced the parlor back and forth, trying to come up with some reason that your king hasn’t returned.

His servants watch you in confusion, but not one of them dares to ask you what’s wrong. Humans were such strange creatures. They didn’t bother trying to deduce what had you in such a panic.

Your footsteps are growing heavy, and your heart is thudding so loudly in your chest that you can feel it in your throat. He’s dead. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.

The negative thoughts just won’t stop — swirling around in your head to where you feel woozy almost. Nothing makes sense. You can’t even form a rational thought before your body crashes against a piece of furniture.

Your eyes are bleary with tears as you take the opportunity to sit. Though, you’re still just as restless: tapping your foot against the floor, rubbing your shaky hands against your thighs while you try to rock yourself back and forth. He’s never coming back! Did you even tell him you loved him before he left? He’s dying somewhere, and you’re too pathetic to save him!

Your body is trembling, and your soft weeping alarms the curses that are now hiding from you because they have no idea what to do.

You’re so worked up, anxiety filling your ears to where you don’t even hear him teleport into the room.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your fragile figure, and his face contorts in a perplexed expression. “Leave us.” His gruff voice tells Uraume.

“What ails you?” He asks as he crouches down to see you at eye-level. His first thoughts are how he’s going to torture the pest who made you feel this way.

You look up as your breath is escaping you faster than you can try to gulp it down. Sukuna’s there. He’s alive, but your body is still set in fight or flight mode. You can’t recognize that there is no danger in front of you.

Sukuna doesn’t know what to do. You can’t even speak a word without heaving for breath. He can’t get to the bottom of your sorrow without you telling him. So, he wraps his strong arms around you, and he pulls you to his chest, smushing you against his muscles.

“Breathe, woman. There is plenty of time.” He adjusts his body, so he’s sitting on the couch, and you’re tucked into his chest on his lap.

The crushing feeling of Sukuna’s weighted arms actually works wonders. You try to ground yourself and listen to the rhythm of his beating heart.

“There you go.” His gravely voice is softer when he speaks to you. You’re as delicate as a flower in his hands. He has to make a conscious effort to be gentle with you. His calloused war-plagued palm carefully rubs your back in soothing circles. “Match your breath to mine.”

“I-I thought.. thought you weren’t coming… weren’t coning back.” You stumble your way through your words. The panic is still coming, but it’s in much more manageable - smaller waves.

“Who falsely informed you of such?” Sukuna asks, the need for retribution for your stress evident in his tone. Someone will have to pay for his flower’s distress.

“Well, no one in particular…” You mutter quietly. Now that the panic is subsiding, the embarrassment starts to kick in. “I just got worried..”

“Worried for my safety, huh?” Sukuna muses. It’s a laughable thought. One, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Two, no one worries for his safety. He’s sure that even his court and his people would celebrate if he were to die. Yet, here you were in shambles from the thought.

“Such a peculiar human.” His arms tighten around you, embracing him in his oversized form. “There is no need to worry. I have no intentions of leaving you.”

“But what if there’s an army of sorcerers trying to kill you?” You ask a hypothetical like a child who’s trying to rationalize the world around them.

“Then, I will kill them and come home to you.” He speaks so matter-of-fact, like there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’d win.

“What if there’s too many of them?”

“I will still kill them and come home to you. Do you doubt your king?” He raises an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

“No, never.” You assure him, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I will limit my duties to three days maximum, since my human cannot handle being away from me for so long.” He gives you an amusing smile, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. It’s truly fascinating how a delicate flower like you fell in love with a monster like him.

[moosesarecute]

Song of the Wind part 2

Part 1

Masterlist

“What do you mean you met your mate?”

Azriel almost flinched at his brother’s loud voice.

“When? How? Where?” Cassian continued just as loud. “And why haven’t you told me before?”

Azriel really appreciated his brother’s excitement, but he was simply too loud for him.

“Calm down Cassian,” Rhys luckily felt similarly. “But we would like to know, if you’d like to tell us.”

Azriel was super excited that he met his mate, but he’s quite worried he scared you away.

It had been two months since the attack on Adriata, which meant that you had been on his mind for every calm moment the past two months.

But he had to control himself and stay away so that you would be safe in the war. But now that the war was over, he found it harder and harder to stay away.

“I flew her to the palace during the attack on Adriata,” Az explained.

Cassian gaped at him.

“Two months?! You have known for two months and you didn’t tell me?”

This time, both Azriel and Rhysand flinched at Cassian’s yelling. Azriel just nodded at him.

“Have you any contact with her?” Rhys asked him.

Azriel shook his head this time and let out a sigh. How he would have loved to have contact with you. To see you and your adorable face again.

“We’ll have to change that then.”

“I thought I would let her come to me. I fear I scared her away,” Azriel explained.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Cassian reassured him.

“We can send a letter to Tarquin or Varian and ask if they knows her. What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” Azriel said and he couldn’t hold back the big smile that grew on his face. Saying your name aloud was so amazing. He felt such a comforting feeling spreading through his body.

A laugh from Rhys pulled him from his thoughts. Cassian punched him in his arm.

“You were even worse when you first told us about Feyre,” he said.

“Okay okay, but I’ll send them a letter today,” Rhys said.

Azriel felt extremely excited at the thought of seeing you again.

Every time Azriel saw Rhys he wanted to ask him if his letter had been answered. However, he also tried to act stoic and neutral, so he never actually did ask him.

Then, a week after the letter was send, they had gotten an answer.

Azriel was at family dinner with his entire family when Rhys walked in with a letter in his hand.

Azriel felt his heartbeat rising, but he decided to stay calm until Rhys had given him the letter.

“Azriel, I have a letter for yo-,” Rhys stopped speaking as Azriel’s shadows ripped the letter out of his hand and dumped the letter in Azriel’s lap.

Azriel felt slightly embarrassed by his feelings, and as Cassian and Rhysand started laughing, he only felt worse.

“What’s going on?” Mor asked and Feyre looked just as confused.

Azriel felt surprised as he realized Feyre didn’t know. When he decided to tell Rhys about his mate, he sort of assumed that would be telling Feyre too.

Cass and Rhys looked at him with hopeful eyes. They wanted him to tell them, but it was his choice.

He looked once more over at Mor and Feyre.

“I found my mate,” he said and continued speaking even though both the females let out surprised gasps. “She’s from Summer, so we sent Tarquin and Varian letters to ask if they know her.”

If was a little bit of silence before Mor spoke.

“What are you waiting for? Open the letter then!”

Az let out a small smile and was about to pick up the letter when his shadows did it before him and ripped up the letter.

They pushed the letter into his face and he took the letter before he waved the shadows away from it face.

Hello, Azriel.

I’m happy to hear you’ve survived the war.

It’s nice to hear that you’re looking for me. I have to admit, I’ve been hoping to hear from the ever since we met.

I’m relieved to know that the mating bond have snapped for you to. And I have to say that I have been thinking about you, a lot.

My mother and brother wishes to meet you. I’m afraid that they’re quite conservative when it comes to dating and that they expect propper courting after Summer-standards.

I hope that you’ll come to dinner next Friday.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Azriel felt his throat dry up at your words. He also felt his heart go crazy, felt himself fall in love with your handwriting and the need to hold his shadows close so that they wouldn’t show all his emotions by going crazy swirling through the entire room.

“What did he say?” Cassian asked.

“It was from Y/N. I’m invited to dinner with her family next Friday,” he rasped. His throat was too dry to speak normally. “She also wrote that her family is quite conservative and that they expect a proper courting after Summer Court standards.”

“First of all, you’ll need a chaperone,” Varian explained. “Someone who’ll bring out your best qualities and make sure to keep a civil and respectful atmosphere.”

Civil and respectful atmosphere? Not Cassian then, not that he could have gone either way, being banned form Summer.

He couldn’t bring Mor, that was just wrong. Bringing Rhys or Amren felt to intimidating.

“Feyre?” he asked and Varian agreed.

“You’ll need to bring flowers to her mother and call her mother and brother madam and sir. You shouldn’t be in alone in the same room as her and you have too be extremely polite. Ask if you can help with anything and compliment the food.”

Azriel nodded and tried to remember every detail Varian gave him.

“And I would recommend not wearing anything black.”

“You look great, Az,” Feyre tried to comfort him.

He stood in the entrance of the River House and tried to find a way he felt comfortable in his Summer clothes.

He wore a cream colored linen shirt and blue linen pants. The lightness of his clothes made him uncomfortable, but he wanted to impress you.

Feyre wore a summer dress. She looked relaxed and happy. Azriel wished he could take some of her calmness.

“Ready to go?” She asked.

Azriel nodded, even though he felt more nervous than he had ever before.

He picked up the flowers for your mother and went over to Feyre. She winnowed them to your home. You had explained the way in your letters.

It was a small house with a big blooming garden. It was also in a very different neighborhood than where he had found yon during the attack on Adriata.

“Hallo,” a deep voice sounded from the front door of the house. Your brother, Azriel realized. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” Feyre replied with a bright smile.

“I’m Mateo, Y/N’s brother,” he said. “Come in, please.”

Azriel let Feyre walk in before him. Both as a sign that he respected her, but also because he was freaking terrified and needed her to go first.

They walked inside and removed their shoes. Mateo showed the way to the dining room. That’s when he first saw you.

Last time he had seen you, your face and body was covered with fear. This time, he only saw beauty.

You glowed in a pretty light blue dress and your hair had different kinds of flowers in it. He felt his knees weaken a little and he ended up hiding his shadows completely to keep them from covering you.

You stood a few steps behind your mother. Both of you were smiling brightly.

“Good afternoon,” your mother said. “We’ve been looking forwards to your visit.”

“Thank you so much for inviting us,” Feyre said and moved slightly to the side so that Azriel could move towards you and your mother.

“We’re very grateful for your invitation, madam,” Azriel said. He got surprised by the shakiness in his voice. He tried to shake away his stress and gave your mother the flowers.

“Thank you very much, Azriel,” your mother spoke and Azriel felt so relieved.

Your mother then moved slightly to the side so that you stood right before him.

He had to hold back the urge to hug you. To feel your body against his once more.

You made a small curtesy and Azriel responded with a small bow, just as Varian had learned him.

As you stood up, he lifted his hand and you put your own upon his. He felt the warmth of your hand and he struggled to think about anything that wasn’t you and your hand.

His eyes met yours and he felt himself get lost. They looked so peaceful and bright.

Suddenly, you moved your gaze from him towards the table and then back.

Azriel’s eyes widened a little, before he sprung into action. He couldn’t fail this quickly.

He led you towards the dining table and only let go of your hand when he pulled out a chair for you to sit in. You sat down and he helped you push the chair closer to the table.

He checked the point of his mental checklist and tried to remember what he was supposed to do next. But then he smelled you.

Your scent filled his entire nose and mind. He closed his mouth that he didn’t realize was open, to prevent it from drooling. He felt his wings almost slump to the ground at the comfort he felt from your scent.

Feyre made a small sound behind him and pulled him back from his daydreaming.

Your mother! He was supposed to help your mother to the table.

He straightened his back and tightened his wings, before he made his way towards your mother.

She gave him a little smile, her eyes almost looked full of pity.

Azriel had failed, hadn’t he?

Azriel seated your mother as Mateo helped Feyre. Then, Azriel and Mateo sat down last.

The food was already at the table and Mateo and your mother filled their plates first, before Azriel and Feyre got food and lastly you. It was some sort of special tradition.

“So Azriel, what do you do?” Mateo asked you.

Azriel, who had just taken a mouthful of food, hurried to swallow before he answered. He felt his tongue and throat burn from the heat of the food.

“I’m the spymaster of the Night Court,” Azriel explained.

“That doesn’t sound safe. Are you gone often?”

“I have periods where I’m gone a lot,” he answered. His voice faltered more and more. He really wanted to impress you, even though he was sure your mother already disapproved. He picked up his cup, hoping water would help him sound less stressed.

“Will you leave less when you become a father?” Was Mateo’s next question.

Azriel chocked on his water.

“Mateo!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were wide.

Azriel drew a nervous breath.

“I would definitely give a lot of the work I do now to my spies, but I’m afraid I would still need to leave a little for the more important missions.”

Mateo nodded, he seemed almost happy with his answer.

“Would you live here or in the Night Court?”

Azriel had luckily prepared to answer that question.

“I would prepare to stay in Velaris with my family, but I would be open to live here as well.”

“Y/N?” He asked next.

“I wouldn’t mind living in the Night Court,” you said and Azriel felt himself smile. He had imagined the two of you in Velaris so many times. He loved to think it would happen eventually.

Mateo continued the questioning throughout the dinner. Some questions for him and some for Feyre.

“Thank you for a delicious meal,” Azriel said as he thought all of you had finished eating.

That’s when he saw your mother still held her fork in her hand.

He felt the need to slump his shoulders in disappointment, but he kept them up. He felt like he had failed everything this evening. He forgot to help your mother to the table, he choked and answered poorly to your brother’s questions, he didn’t call your brother sir even once and he spoke before everyone was done eating.

His heart was beating so loudly in his chest as he bowed goodbye to you. A small voice inside his head told him to look closely at you. To look at your adorable cheeks, your bright eyes and your soft hair. Because, he wasn’t sure your mother and brother would ever let him as you again.

He kissed your mother’s hand and gave your brother a solid handshake as a goodbye.

Feyre led the way out of the house and Azriel felt himself breathing calmer in the summer air.

They stepped into the small garden and were making their way out of your home, when a voice stopped them.

“Wait!”

Azriel has never turned around faster than when he heard your voice. He, the spymaster of the Night Court, almost lost his balance from the spin.

You stopped right in front of him.

“You did really well. They’re really happy,” you said to him.

He was sure he gaped at you. How could he have done a good job when he failed so much?

“Thank you,” he said back, even though he didn’t believe you.

You then shifted your gaze and looked at Feyre. Azriel turned his head and watched as Feyre turned around.

He looked back at you and then you stood up at your toes and kissed his left cheek.

The small action made him lose all control. Suddenly his shadows got loose from his no longer strong grip and they started playing with your hair and stroking your cheeks. It was like they were kissing your cheek as well.

You laughed a little.

“I’ll se you soon, Azriel,” you said and walked back inside.

Azriel had to pull his shadows to the opposite direction to prevent them from following you

“I never knew you could be that flustered,” Feyre said.

“Shut up,” he muttered back through his giant smile.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[insidekatmind]

Between rival hearts~ Noni Madueke and Trent Arnold (love triangle)

The sound of footsteps echoed through the England locker room as the players prepared for the upcoming match. However, that night it wasn’t the preparations for the match that dominated their thoughts, but something much more personal. Two of the team’s brightest stars, Noni Madueke and Trent Alexander-Arnold, were completely taken with you. What had started as a friendly relationship between teammates was quickly evolving into something much more complicated.

For two days, you had kissed both of them, but you hadn't made a definitive choice. Your heart didn't know what it wanted anymore, and what had begun as an innocent game was now turning into a war between two men who both had the same goal: to win your heart.

That evening, in the locker room, the tension was palpable. While the other players were preparing, trying to ignore the growing conflict, Noni and Trent found themselves face to face, their jaws clenched, their eyes full of anger and frustration.

"This isn’t right, Trent. You know it," Noni said, his voice thick with anger. "You think you have the right to...?" His sentence trailed off as he stared Trent in the eye, a mix of defiance and resentment.

"I don’t need your permission, Noni," Trent replied coldly, but with a spark of disdain in his eyes. "If you’re scared to compete, maybe you should back off. It’s clear she prefers me."

Noni hissed and took a step toward him, but was stopped by another shout: "Enough!" It was Jude Bellingham, who, although not directly involved in the love triangle, couldn’t stand the drama unfolding before him. "It’s not a competition. You both should stop acting like children. She’s not a trophy."

Trent didn’t flinch, shooting a quick glance at Jude. "Don’t worry about it, Jude. This doesn’t concern you." Then he turned back to Noni. "She’s made her choice. Maybe she’s just too shy to admit it, but I know she prefers me."

Noni let out a sharp laugh, but it wasn’t funny at all. "You’re trying to convince yourself, Trent. I don’t believe you for a second." He glanced at the other players, who were watching the scene in silence, almost entertained. "And where is she? How can she tell us who she prefers if she’s not even here?"

Suddenly, silence fell, as everyone in the room considered that question. Where were you? No one really knew what you were thinking, but Noni and Trent both seemed certain that you were the center of their worlds.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Noni continued, looking at his teammates. "This isn’t just about kisses or attention. It’s about who can make her feel special, who can give her something the other can’t."

Trent took a step forward, as if he wanted to confront Noni directly. "And who decides that, you? Or maybe her? Because I know I’m the one who makes her feel alive. And you, Noni, just seem like the guy who wants to play the nice guy, while I’m the one who makes her feel desired."

The other players started looking nervously at each other. The tension was so thick, and Jude, trying to maintain calm, stepped forward, but his voice was barely above a whisper. "Guys, stop. This isn’t going to get you anywhere. Why don’t you try talking to her directly?"

But in the heart of the argument, there was still the question no one dared to ask: *Who will you choose?*

It was a delicate situation, a clash of hearts and desires. The passion between Noni and Trent was now evident to everyone, and no one could ignore the longing they both felt for you. But it wasn’t just a battle of pride between them; there was also your heart to protect, slowly breaking under the pressure of having to make a decision.

And all you knew was that, as dangerous as the game was, you still hadn’t decided which side to stand on.

[moonperil6]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Three: My King Almost Decapitates a Cute, Fuzzy, Helpful Little Thing

Prev/Next

Warnings: None, really

Word Count: 1.31k

Listen to: Open Arms

You scowled and huffed in annoyance, pushing the plant life out of your path.

You tripped over a tree root, and before you could fall unceremoniously to the dusty ground, Polites reached out and grabbed the straps of your armor to steady you.

“Thanks,” you said grudgingly. Polites’s hand was still on the straps of your armor, and you gave him a grin. “You can let go now.”

“Oh.” Polites felt heat rising to his cheeks as he quickly released his grip. He thanked the gods that he had his helmet so you couldn’t see his flushed face. Little did he know that you were blushing as well.

The second time you tripped, Polites stopped you before you could fall again. He seemed to be hovering, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

This time, when you straightened, you ended up nose to nose with your friend. You felt your heart beat faster and your eyes widened slightly.

Polites took a step back and took the hand he had been using to grasp your shoulder with him. Only then did he realize that you had been as stiff as a board.

Odysseus glanced at the two blushing messes behind him over his shoulder. “I don’t know if this has occurred to you two lovebirds,” he grumped. “But we need to find enough food to feed six hundred men. We don’t have time to waste.”

Polites watched as you ran to catch up with the captain and sighed, moving after you, just more slowly.

“You can relax, my friends,” he said.

“Huh?” Odysseus asked, looking back at Polites.

“I can tell you’re getting nervous, so do yourself a service. And try to relax, my friends.” Polites pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose as you all pushed further into the dense forest.

“I’m fine, Polites,” you tried to assure him.

But he continued, “think of all that we have been through. We’ll survive what we get into.”

Odysseus led you into a clearing with a running stream snaking through it, and as you crouched to refill Eurylochus’s flask, Polites plopped himself down beside you, Odysseus on your other side, sharpening his blade.

“I know you’re tired of the war and bloodshed. Tell me, is this how we’re supposed to live? Look at how you grip your sword, enough said. Why should we take when we could give?”

You realized that Polites had a vague outline of a point, but that wasn’t quite enough to get you to relax. Neither did Odysseus, who was still gripping his sword so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“You can show a person that you trust them.” Polites nudged your shoulder with his, letting you know that his next words were meant mostly for you. “When you stop and lower your guard. Here we have a chance for some adjustment. Give it a try, it’s not that hard.”

He stood and offered you his hand, eyes staring deep into yours. “I’m telling you, this life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms. Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart.”

You considered his words for a moment before grabbing his hand. He hoisted you to your feet, still saying, “No matter the place, we can light up the world. Here's how to start.” He took both of your hands in his and continued, “greet the world with open arms. Greet the world with open arms.”

“Welcome.”

Odysseus instantly shot to his feet, sword still in hand. He pointed it at the speaker, a-

Small, cute, furry, thing?

The innocence of the little thing didn’t seem to deter Odysseus. He kept his sword pointed at the fuzzy animal. “Stay back,” he growled.

“Stay back,” the animal repeated. The forest behind it rustled, and more of the little creatures, looking almost identical to the first one, peeked out.

“My friend,” Polites said, placing a gentle hand on Odysseus’s sword, making it point lower. “Greet the world with open arms.”

“We’re only here for food,” Odysseus announced, shaking off Polites.

“Food,” the animals echoed.

“Six hundred friends are waiting for us to show our faces,” Odysseus claimed.

“Food,” the little creatures said again.

“Stay back, I’m warning you.” The captain positioned you behind Polites, earning him a glare from both of you.

“Food.”

“If we don’t get back safely, my men will turn this place into blazes,” Odysseus threatened.

The first fuzzy animal held out a bowl filled with purple fruit, looking up at you with mesmerizing eyes. “Here you go.”

You stepped out from behind Polities, watching his face light up as he took the bowl. “See?” He said, turning to you and Odysseus. “This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms. Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart. No matter the place, we can light up the world. Here's how to start.” He tossed a fruit to you and you inspected it carefully.

Polites watched you eagerly as you split open the fruit. “Greet the world with open arms,” he said again. “Greet the world with… open arms…” You echoed.

It was worth it to see his smile brighten even more, but Odysseus took one half of the fruit from your hands and studied it. You watched his face darken with realization.

“My friend, I wish that I could say that I agree. But look at the way this fruit is glowing

and filled with glowing seeds. It took me a while to notice just what kind of fruit they eat. It's a lotus, it controls your mind and never lets you free.” Your own expression turned rather dark as Odysseus shoved his half of the fruit into Polites’s hands, much harsher than necessary.

“That’s what we’d get with open arms,” the captain snarled, stalking away.

You put a reassuring hand on Polites’s shoulder and squeezed slightly until he looked up at you. 

“Hey,” you said gently. “Maybe there’s… another option?”

Polites’s eyes lit up at the prospect and you smiled in return. He turned to the lotus eaters and opened his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“Lotus eaters,” you began. “We appreciate your kindness, and we apologize for our captain’s rudeness. He’s under a lot of stress at the moment.” You gestured to where Odysseus was sulking. 

Polites stepped forward. “Lotus eaters, we’d like to show our friend that kindness is brave. Could you tell us where there’s other food to eat?”

The Lotus Eaters looked up at you, and the lead one motioned for you to approach. 

You knelt down to its height and it whispered in your ear, “scary cave.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Scary?” You asked slowly.

“Scary,” the Lotus Eater repeated in a solemn tone before stepping away.

“And where do we sail to find this food-filled cave?” You questioned.

“East. That way.” The Lotus Eaters all pointed in one direction in unison, the direction which you think you can safely assume is east.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Welcome,” they responded.

Polites grabbed your hand and led you to where Odysseus stood, much like he had done earlier on the ship. 

He spun you around, laughing. “This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms.” Polites’s attention turned to Odysseus. “I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart.” You came to a stop, arm slung over Polites’s shoulders as he continued speaking softly to the captain. “So why not replace it and light up the world? Here’s how to start.”

He offered Odysseus a new lotus fruit. “Greet the world with open arms. Greet the world with open arms.”

You could barely hear it, but you could’ve sworn you heard Odysseus say, “greet the world with open arms.”

Polites smiled at you. “You can relax, my friends.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

listen hear me out—

Warriors singing Just a Man and/or The Underworld

:)

- hero-of-the-wolf

YES

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[monstersflashlight]

Big and muscular orcs who's hands had only known to bring death to his enemies for years, he had never only focused on anything except leading his tribe to victory and protecting it as he is the chieftain.

Until he met his Elven wife, small and petite who's carefree, gentle and very soft. He never have been intimate with them ever since marriage, afraid he's going to break them into two like a twig.

Not until he saw how his wife would tend to the children on his tribe, playing with them and telling them stories, how they would tend to them like a mother, full of love and gentleness and He began to imagine what It'd be like to have children of their own

He found himself pounding into them every night, his huge cock barely fittin in, his tip kissing the entrance of their cervix, pumping their womb full of his seed, hoping that one It'd root.

i love orcs mwuehehheheh

Breeding surprise

Orc x fem elf!reader || breeding, knotting, size kink, cum inflation || tw: mentions of pregnancy

When you married the orc warrior, you weren’t expecting the reality of it. In your first year of marriage, you barely saw him because of the ongoing war, he was far away fighting for wars that weren’t his, not yours… But when the war stopped? Good lord you were expecting that even less.

He arrived home on a random Wednesday and you weren’t even there. You were at the market when the bells rang announcing the warriors were home. You ran back to your hose in the edge of town, and there he was, waiting at the door with the wildest look you’ve ever seen.

Contrary to what everyone thought, you two married because you liked each other, not because of convenience or love or anything like that. He was good looking, and you were good looking, and you both were tired of looking for people, so it just seemed normal to marry a friend and just be happy with it.

That’s why when you arrived home that day and found him with that wild look in his face you weren’t suspecting anything. You approached him with a smile in your face and your pointy ears twitching, you were so happy your best friend was back you were about to vibrate out of your skin. You were about to hug his middle when he grabbed your waist and hoisted you up until you were face to face with him.

And then he kissed you. He kissed you so deeply and so thoroughly that your brain was fuzzy by the time he released you. You couldn’t even ask what was all that about before he had you naked over your living room table and was eating your pussy out until you were screaming his name. He had such a smug expression in his face after that... you wanted to hit him. But instead you pushed him until he was sitting down on the armchair and proceeded to ride him until he was spilling everything inside of you.

That was the first of many. It was like something broke between you two and your friendship was no longer that. Your marriage turned a lot more real than any of you suspected. At first it was just lust and shared passion, but it soon turned into so much more. He looked at the children at the market with longing in his eyes, and when you returned home he fucked you in earnest. He knew perfectly that orcs and elves could only procreate if you had that special potion, otherwise it was just a fun little thing you played where he filled you to the brim and then watched it drip down, just to fuck it back into you again.

Until one day, you decided it was time. He left to go hunting and you prepared the potion, drinking it down and leaving a tiny bit on the glass so he would know.

You got naked and started prepping yourself. He usually enjoyed eating you out, but this time around, with the promise of possible breeding, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back. And as much as you enjoyed his huge orc dick, you also needed some prep for your tiny elf pussy if you didn’t want to be destroyed.

You were three fingers in when you heard his footsteps entering the house. “Honey, I’m home!” You giggled at his antics and said nothing. You could feel the moment he realized what the glass was, because his steps stopped completely and you could hear him take a deep breath. You knew what he could smell… You being fertile, ready to be breed. “I hope this is not a joke or I swear to…” He appeared at the door of the room and gaped at your naked form, already squirming with pleasure right in front of him. “Are you sure?” He asked, looking at your fingers more than at you.

“Yes. Fill me up,” that’s all it took for him to rip his clothes away and jump over your body in the bed. You giggled as your body shook up and down with the force.

His hands pushed your fingers away, replacing them with his own as he started talking frantically. "Gonna fill you so deep you are going to be leaking for hours after, just so I can slide right in and fill you again, would you like that? Would you like to be filled over and over like you are my own personal fuck toy?" You weren’t expecting that level of dirty talk and you were speechless, your pussy twitching around his fingers was the only answer you could provide. “Of course you do, of course you want to be filled to the brim and used until I’m completely spent.” He kept finger fucking you until you were breathless, begging him to fuck you over and over. He didn’t, not yet. He pushed your legs further apart, licking around his fingers buried in you and sucking on your clit until you came all around him.

“Come on, come on, come on…. Please, husband.” That always worked, reminding him that you were his, not only in body, but in every aspect that mattered… That did it for him. And for you.

He covered your tiny body with his and got into position, you were more than ready, stretched and prepared for him. He didn’t care about your need, though. He only cared about fucking you so thoroughly you couldn’t walk the next day. He only cared about breeding you until you were full of him. So he fucked you slowly, so, so slowly that you were crying out in desperation and he was laughing at how needy you were. But he secretly loved it. Loved how much you needed his cock.

He made you come twice before he started fucking you in earnest. Fast and hard, rapidly approaching his own orgasm. And then, even though you knew he could pop a knot, he never did before. But what you were feeling was definitely his knot, pressing against your entrance, demanding entry. And he did. He entered you completely as your eyesight turned white with pleasure as the knot pushed right over your G-Spot. It was the most intense sensation ever.

And when he started to come inside of you, you felt like you were ascending into heaven. Like your body transcended into a new reality, and the only thing that existed were you and his knot deeply buried inside your pussy.

You came down from the high, and he was still coming. And coming. And coming so much you could feel it dripping down around his knot, filling your womb until your lower abdomen was bloated and your cervix felt overused. It was marvelous.

He rolled his hips to give you some pleasure, your body shaking with aftershocks as he kept coming inside your pussy. When the knot came down, your eyes were already half closed. You didn’t know if you were pregnant, but you definitively knew you were doing that again as soon as you woke up from a tiny nap.

[ellecdc]

The Bolter

Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]

prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant

CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it

“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends. 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.

“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.

“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?” 

“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on. 

“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.” 

“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.

“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”

James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue. 

“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.” 

Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.

“She’s…okay?” 

Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”

“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.” 

“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.” 

“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself. 

And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else. 

“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Right.” Sirius offered shortly. 

“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”

“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”

“Sirius-”

“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden. 

James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”

Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again. 

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat. 

“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.

“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”

“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes. 

“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.

“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding. 

“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”

“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?” 

“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face. 

“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”

“Yes you are.”

“-I just want you to stay.”

“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”

“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes. 

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.” 

“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly. 

“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”

Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently. 

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him? 

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

You loved him enough to let him go. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property. 

And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant. 

You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.

But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either. 

You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too. 

You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could. 

You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. 

But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew. 

You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war. 

You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed. 

You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.

Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way? 

You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war. 

You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames. 

You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.

How could you have gone so long without this? 

“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?” 

“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney. 

“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.” 

You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”

“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.” 

“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly. 

“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”

“Killarney.” Lily answered for you. 

“I love Killarney!” 

“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway. 

“No! But I love it there! I just know it!” 

“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.

“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-

“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you. 

“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”

“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.” 

“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers. 

“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason. 

He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by. 

You had to look away.

“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.

“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.

“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson. 

“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.

“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan. 

“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.” 

“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room. 

Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well. 

You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.

You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance. 

“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then. 

“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.

“How far along are you?” 

You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you. 

“How do you-”

“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”

You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.

“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you. 

“Remus-”

“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew. 

Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”

“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.

“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.” 

“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.

“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”

“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?” 

“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”

“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.” 

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Y/N.”

“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.” 

Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.” 

You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.  

“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house. 

“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds. 

“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”

Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?” 

You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.” 

“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”

“You look tired.” You amended. 

“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence. 

“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”

“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you. 

“Sirius, I-”

“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.” 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.

“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”

You nodded your head yes shamefully.

“Did you read them?”

You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.

“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. 

You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”

He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”

“You left.” You finished for him. 

“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.

“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”

“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.

“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.” 

“Sirius-”

“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”

“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”

“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.

“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”

“I came back for you.”

“But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror. 

“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”

“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”

You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.

“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”

“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor. 

“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.” 

“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.” 

“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”

“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.

“Like hell.”

“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.

“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.

“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?” 

“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.

“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.

“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.

“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.

You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump. 

“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.” 

“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him. 

“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”

“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.

“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him. 

“I thought I killed you!”

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically. 

“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before. 

“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.

“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.

“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”

“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.

“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”

“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.

“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.

“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.

“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy. 

“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”

You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.” 

“Does it have a picket fence?”

“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.

“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.

“You’d probably hate it.”

“Are you there?” He asked quickly.

“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.

“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.” 

The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet. 

“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.

“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”

“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”

A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.” 

“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.” 

“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”

“But?”

“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I���m-”

“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”

Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you. 

“Please bring me home?”

James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not. 

His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.

Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months. 

But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…

…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy

Part 4: “Girl Problems”

You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.

With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.

“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.

As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.

Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?

The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.

You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.

Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.

John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?

With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.

>> ok so this is terrible

>> im so sorry

>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom

>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional

Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.

J >> How can I help?

>> i dont have any products on me

>> meant to stock the bathroom

>> sorry

J >> Stop apologizing

J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street

You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.

It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”

You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“

“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”

You snort. “Yeah…”

“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”

“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.

You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.

You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“

“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.

You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”

“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”

John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”

When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.

You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.

If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.

A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Is it okay if I request Deadpool and Wolverine having an s/o that likes to bite them affectionately and like they keep doing doing it trying to leave a mark on them?

Headcanon or story is fine ❤️

Wade Wilson/ deadpool

‘Do I taste delicious bbg? I must seeing as how you’re eagerly coming back for seconds just to get your teeth into me.’ Wade would tease as he watched you bite onto his shoulder, no thoughts behind your eyes, only chomp.

‘I’m trying to see if I can leave a mark.’ You tell him, biting down a little harder on his shoulder but not enough to cause him any discomfort.

‘And In public too? *gasp* You naughty minx, I didn’t think you were like that but then again I guess voyerism has always been something I wanted to try.’ - Wade.

‘No’ - you

Wade doesn’t mind you biting him, bite him as much as you want but don’t be surprised if he were to say that he got the bite marks from something far more intimate. He’s just built like that but you love him regardless for it, he made life fun in a chaotic way.

He’d even might attempt to bite you back, make it your couple thing to bite each other affectionately and hard enough to leave a make but not enough to cause the other pain.

So when you bit his hand, he’ll bit your arm, which then leads to an all out biting war between the two of you to see who can bite the other the most. You could just be chilling on the sofa together and somehow bite each other simultaneously. This happens one too many times to count on one hand and even after the marks have gone away, it was just an excuse for you and Wade to bite each other as much as possible all over again.

So please by all means bite him as much as you want he’s not going to stop you, he’s enjoying it too much that he may or may not find himself developing a biting related kink sooner or later because of you.

‘Do I look pretty with your bite marks, claiming me as yours and yours alone?’ - Wade, battering his eyes.

‘The prettiest’ - you slapping his ass and giving him another bite on his bicep.

The fucker would moan when you do, loudly too so I hope your bit easily embarrassed.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

‘Ow! What the-‘ Logan sees you latching onto his bicep with your mouth, teeth digging into his skin, ‘-are you a fucking cannibal now? What’re you doing?’ He’d ask and you’d shrug.

‘Marking you?’ You questioned, still biting him.

‘Why?’ He’d ask.

You shrug again. ‘Your bicep look too nice so I had to bite it.’

Logan swore you were going to give him grey hairs with your shenanigans, but he just lets you do your thing. So half of the time you look like a fish on a fishing hook with the way you latch onto his bicep with no intentions of letting go anytime soon.

Even if people were to ask who gave him that many bite marks, he’d just raise his arm and reveal you hanging off of it and just point at you with a deadpan expression. ‘My nippy little shit of a partner did.’ He’d say in response.

He doesn’t mind a couple of bites but a fuck tone then he’ll probably tell you to tone it down with the biting, just until the current marks fade away.

‘I look like I got attacked by a fucking piranha.’ - Logan as he points at you. ‘Enough biting from you.’

You didn’t like that as much and would get all pouty because the whole point of you biting him was so that the marks would stay! This was torture! Logan tends to ruin the fun but that doesn’t stop you from biting him unexpectedly but there is moments where he does catch you in the act and you bolt away as fast as you can.

However in the end you’re the one coming out of the room with a couple of fresh bite marks yourself across your neck as Logan smirks to himself with pride. You did push your luck and Logan wasn’t one to let you get away with it without…a punishment or two…

[reonaissance]

⟡ ──⠀ loving bites.

⟡ ⠀ blue lock.

⟡ ⠀ summary. :: their reaction, when you bite them out of the blue. ⟡ ⠀ pairing(s). :: Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi, Chigiri Hyoma, Nagi Seishiro, Mikage Reo x gn!Reader ⟡ ⠀ warnings. :: sfw, fluff, comedy ⟡ ⠀ word count. :: —

⟡ ⠀ Itoshi Rin

-> he would look at you with a judgy look and mind his own business afterwards.

-> he ignores it until he feels your teeth sinking in his upper arm again.

-> he does not need to ask what you wanted to achieve with biting him out of the blue, his glare speaks enough for itself.

-> when you explain him, it was a love bite but in a non-sexual way, showing him you love him, he would not understand, why you wound like to bite him rather than just say the words 'I love you' or to show it in other ways.

-> but he would get used to it after some time.

-> he would simply accept his fate of being bitten and maybe bite you back once to let you see how it feels.

-> but be prepared to be ignored afterwards and to never ever talk about it again.

⟡ ⠀ Itoshi Sae

-> like rin, he would give you a judgy look but ten times worse.

-> he would GLARE at you like you brought up the law to make football illegal.

-> and he wouldn’t say anything until you give him an explanation.

-> and this dude bites you back SO hard, you stop doing it out of fear, he might bite a piece of your flesh out the next time.

-> and it helps for like two or three months before you try again with light bites.

-> he bites you back again, this time a little lighter, but still hard enough to scare you to not do it for a while.

-> it would go on like that for a while until he accepts his fate of getting bitten no matter what he does against it. just don’t bite too hard to leave marks.

⟡ ⠀ Bachira Meguru

-> this dude would bite you back in an instant.

-> no hesitation, head empty, he would bite you back in your shoulder with a little too much force, making you squeak. but he didn’t mean to hurt you.

-> he would kiss the spot afterwards to say sorry.

-> I can also Imagine him biting you out of the blue too (basically the exact same thing what you did).

-> And with that the nom war starts.

-> the one who bites the other more often throughout the day wins and can decide what you do in the evening or the next day.

-> I can see all the bite marks on the shoulders of both of you from when you bit the other a little to hard.

-> it almost looks like an aggressive cat bit you from head to toe.

-> the bites seem just a little too big for a cat. But no one asks further. And no one speculates who it was because a short glimpse at him is enough to know who it was. and they simply shut up.

⟡ ⠀ Isagi Yoichi

-> he would be a little worried and would ask you if everything is alright.

-> maybe you’re hungry, maybe he’s sitting on something you’ve been searching the whole time and you need it and he doesn’t even know.

-> he’s just worried and wants the best for you.

-> after you gave him an explanation that it’s a way of showing your love to him, he calms down.

-> he thinks it’s cute. It remembers him of a cat. He saw many cats on the internet biting their owner lightly as a way of showing their love.

-> a little extravagant, but still cute.

-> when he has the courage, he bites you back now and then. Not often though.

-> he just doesn’t want to hurt you.

⟡ ⠀ Chigiri Hyoma

-> head empty, no thought, he just noms you back.

-> of course he knows what you want to tell him and what a nom is, he knows and follows all the trends.

-> like bachira, he would make a challenge out of it, watching who can bite the other more often throughout the day.

-> he would even record it occasionally, edit all the clips in one smooth video like all those shelving videos and upload it on TikTok (with your consent of course).

-> the people in the comments would freak out at how cute they think it is (the comment section is full of caps and crying emojis).

⟡ ⠀ Nagi Seishiro

-> he's too lazy to even acknowledge it.

-> but when he does, he would sink his teeth softly in the flesh of your shoulder after he finished his round or paused his game.

-> but forget bringing him to mom you again. it’s likely for him to not do it again because it’s a hassle for him to open up his mouth .

⟡ ⠀ Mikage Reo

-> reo would have an all lovey dovey look on his face with hearts in his eyes.

-> this boy loves everything you do. he's obsessed with every bit of you.

-> you don't need to explain, he understands the meaning of it. he watched enough cat videos doing it.

-> he is so nice and would return the gesture with a light nom in your upper arm. you don’t even feel his teeth sinking in your flesh.

-> he can’t stand it, when you get hurt, especially if he’s the one who hurt you.

-> after you started it, he’s continuing with it. not making a war out of it, but every now and then, when nobody else’s around, he noms you.

-> he would stand behind you, warping his arms around your waist and then sink his teeth in you shoulder or upper arm.

──⠀ lovs monologue

reupload time! I also changed some parts. just some minor things except for nagis part.

© lovingluxury | @/cafekitsune’s dividers

[avocado-writing]

Hello there dear! If you are still taking requests how would you feel about writing something for logan x reader x wade, where reader gets between them while they're arguing/in a fight and gets hurt by accident? And how they would react to that.

Totally fine if you don't like the idea. Thank you for giving us all these lovely works!

It’s hard to know which one of them started it. Probably Wade. It’s usually Wade, saying something stupid or offhand which irritates Logan into a physical reaction. But occasionally Logan forgets to mind his mouth, especially when he’s had a couple of drinks, and then they’re just at each other’s throats with knives and claws. 

They have gotten better to be fair. Calmer. More adjusted to living in the same space, being together all the time. Plus you beg - beg - them not to fight in the apartment, there just isn’t enough room for it. 

To their credit they only get into fisticuffs at Wade’s place. Your home, with your boho throws and favourite posters, has remained unscathed. It is Switzerland in this damn war of testosterone. 

You’ve had Wade’s spare key forever now, he even got you a little unlicensed Deadpool charm to put on it, and you have your headphones in when you open the door. The sound of 80s rock covers up the noise of carnage inside, and that is why you’re so totally unprepared when the bottle comes flying at you. 

It does not hit you to be fair. It shatters on the doorframe, showering you in glass. You gasp. From where Logan has Wade in a headlock and Wade is trying to stab his way out, your boys freeze. Clearly Wade tried to bottle him, Logan swatted it away, and the situation at hand was created. A beat passes as you try and recover from what’s happened, and you feel a small trickle of blood run down to your jaw from your cheek. 

You rip the headphones from your ears, more angry than you’ve ever been. Their faces drop. 

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, you two?! I’ve asked you not to fight because of shit exactly like this!”

You use the plain of your hand to wipe your face and grimace when it comes back red. This seems to break the two of them out of their stupor and your boys are immediately on their feet. 

“Fuck, pookie, we’re sorry—” Wade says, at the same time Logan starts, “Baby, we didn’t mean to—”

You hold up your bloodied hand in the universal sign for them to stop. They do, like a pair of trained dogs. 

“Fuck this shit. I’m done,” you snarl, because if you don’t rev up the anger you know you’ll start to cry. Tears are starting to prickle in the corner of your eyes. Before either of them can say anything you’ve turned on your heel and left the building. 

When you’re home, a glass of Sauvignon blanc deep and with a band aid on your cheekbone, you realise you didn’t really mean it. You’re not “done”. Done with their squabbling, maybe, and done with the situation in that moment, but not done done. You should probably call Wade up and apologise to them both, but honestly you’re still sort of angry at the whole scenario. 

You shove a handful of Cheetos in your mouth and stab the play button on the remote, sinking into the sofa as the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy plays, determined to be distracted in any way possible… when there’s a knock at the door. 

When you open it of course it’s them. They look like repentant schoolboys. Logan’s holding half a dozen boxes from your favourite pizza place, Wade has a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around the neck. There’s a tag on it. It says “we’re sorry :(“ with a little doodle of them both in Wade’s hand. 

You soften. How could you not?

“We fucked up, we know!” he says quickly, anticipating that you might slam the door on him. “We’re sorry. Isn’t that right, peanut?”

“Yeah,” Logan sighs, remarkably accepting of the nickname when he’s grovelling to you. You drum your fingers on the doorknob. “Sorry you’ve got a couple of knuckleheads as partners, honey.”

Knuckleheads. That about sums them up. What a cute word, though; you forget how adorable they can both be, when they’re not trying to kill each other.  

“Did you get the mozzarella sticks?” you ask, nodding at the pile of food. Wade grins. He knows they’ve won. 

“Two portions, honey.”

“Hmm, okay. You can come in.”

They do and you shut the door behind them. Wade wastes no time in heading to your glass cabinet and decanting a drink for each of you, Logan clearing your coffee table so he can unpack the pizza. He grabs a slice of pepperoni as you sit down between the two of them, ready to imbibe. 

“We really are fucking sorry. Seriously, pookie, we won’t do it again,” Wade reiterates as he pushes a drink into your hand. You hum. 

“I know. I’m fucking serious though, boys. I’m done with your squabbles. Next time you wanna go at each other, one of you leave the room and take a walk around the block to cool down. Even if you don’t want to, think of me and do it anyway. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wade agrees quickly before looking at Logan with intent. The older man sighs. 

“Okay,” he agrees, hand on your knee in acceptance, “anything for you. Sorry again, bub.”

You squeak as Wade reaches over to press a kiss against the band-aid on your cheek. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Making it better.” His kiss lands on your lips this time. He tastes of grease. Must have sneaked a piece of garlic bread on the way up, cheeky bastard. You feel Logan’s hands slip around your waist. 

“Mmm, boys, the pizza…”

“Can be reheated. God gave us microwaves so that we could give you orgasms,” says Wade, happily, “or we can feed you mozzarella while we eat you out, your choice.”

You look at Logan for his opinion on the matter and he shrugs. 

“Sounds good to me.”

You grin, and the pizza grows cold.  

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[seungkw1]

make me — ksy

♡ pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 1.8k ♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied), handjob, hoshi is obsessed w boobs, hoshi is a simp, i ramble on about star wars for a bit at the beginning ♡ a/n: might have to do a pt. 2 to this one so lmk if anyone is interested in that 👀

“No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!!”

“Soonyoung. Be so fucking for real right now.” 

Your roommate doesn’t usually drink, and you’re starting to see why. Two Jack & Cokes and he’s fucking gone already.

“I’m telling you y/n, The Rise of Skywalker is so fucking good. You should stop being a haterrrr,” he says, inches away from your face as he leans over to you, nearly pushing you off the couch. You’ve never been this physically close to him, though you’ve certainly thought about it (more than once). Your heart flutters from the proximity of his lips to yours, but you have more important matters at hand right now.

“I didn’t say I hated it, it’s just not that good compared to all the other Star Wars movies!”

He picks up his drink again. You stop him before he can take a sip, handing him a glass of water instead. 

“Well how would I know? I haven’t seen the other movies.”

“WHAT?!”

He takes a big gulp of the water. “I’ve only seen the new ones,” he admits with a shrug.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead against your palm in exasperation. You grab the remainder of his beverage and drink it all in one go. 

This argument isn’t that serious of course - you just need to calm your nerves a bit, considering Soonyoung has now placed your hand on your thigh as he blabbers on.

“Besides, seeing Kylo Ren and Rey finally kiss was great. I cheered.”

“You’re a fucking REYLO SHIPPER??”

“A what?” He blinks at you with heavy eyelids. “I don’t speak that language.”

“Kylo Ren and Rey made a terrible couple, it’s literally toxic. The plot between them should’ve never been a romance.”

“But I like romance!” he practically shouts in your face. You’ve always enjoyed bantering with Soonyoung for fun, but the alcohol in both of your systems is definitely upping the ante. You’ve seen him act ridiculous plenty of times before, but he’s on another level today.

“It’s fucking Star Wars, it doesn’t need romance!!” you shout back.

“Well I think it does!” he states indignantly.

“What do you know?? You haven’t seen the other movies!!”

“So I can’t have an opinion??”

“NO??”

“Why are you being so mean to meeeee,” Soonyoung whines, making big sad puppy dog eyes at you. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“You’re literally insane. Get off of me!” you shout as he leans over onto you, practically clinging onto you in his drunken stupor.

He ignores you, getting even more up in your face. “You’re just mad because I have better taste in movies than you.”

“Will you just shut the FUCK UP???”

“MAKE ME!”

You pause, staring at him for a few moments too long. He stares back at you, confusion spreading across his face. Then-

You kiss him.

Your lips press softly against his for only a few moments. You pull back, looking at your roommate eye to eye, watching his inebriated brain trying to process what just happened. As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, it suddenly clicks. He swallows nervously.

“What was that for?” he hesitantly asks, barely more than a whisper.

“I…” you start, but quite honestly you don’t know where that came from. Sure, you’ve found Soonyoung attractive since the day you met him - and sure, living with him has led to a few domestic fantasies here and there. But you are friends, nothing more - your boundaries are unspoken, but clearly established. 

Or so you thought.

Soonyoung’s dark eyes stare into yours. Panic alarms are going off in your head. You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up oh god you fucked up big time…

“I’m so sorr-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence. Soonyoung’s mouth aligns with yours, kissing you hungrily, his hands grasping onto your arms. Shock reverberates through your body as he makes out with you, his hands sliding to your back, pulling your body close against his as his tongue pokes at your lips, requesting entrance. You let him in. He squeezes you even tighter against him as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

After what felt like about a thousand years, you break apart, barely - his lips hovering mere inches in front of yours. The look he gives you is one you’ve never seen him make before - he gazes at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he wants to devour you.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You’re simply dumbstruck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he mutters as his hands drop to your hips, still holding onto you for dear life.

“You… like me?”

You silently curse yourself at how dumb you sound. Asking him if he likes you, as if you were in fucking middle school.

“Yeah,” he replies emphatically. “I really really really like you.”

Your head spins, the intoxication doing nothing to help you process this information.

“Um… since when?” 

Soonyoung is still drunk as hell, but he speaks clear as day.

“Short answer, since we moved in together.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.

“And the long answer?”

He shifts awkwardly, doing a very poor job of trying to hide his boner.

“Middle of July. It was hot as balls. I woke up that morning to you making pancakes. You were wearing a light blue tank top with nothing underneath, and-” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.

“And my god, your boobs looked perfect. The pancakes smelled good, but all I wanted was your tits in my mouth.” 

His hand delicately trails up to your breasts, where he is currently staring, taking one of them and squeezing it. He lets out a soft groan as he does.

“Fuck, even better than I imagined.”

“Is that why you took so long to come out for breakfast that day?” you say as your fingertips glide over his thigh, moving toward the very obvious bulge that has formed in his pants. You grab his cock through the fabric. He practically yelps as you begin to caress it slowly.

“Y-yeah,” he answers, his voice going up an octave, practically melting under your touch. 

“So you’re saying that you went and jerked off while you thought of my tits.”

“Um,” he tenses up nervously, realizing what he’s just admitted to.

Before he can say anything else, you take your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. If his eyes could physically pop out of his head on a pair of springs, they’d be doing just that right now.

You unclasp the hook, removing the undergarment and tossing it aside. He gawks at you - his cock twitches under your palm. You begin to stroke his length, but he immediately grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He’s still staring at your chest.

“Where would you rather cum?”

“I- what?” He looks up at you, his eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes, then back to your boobs, then back to your mouth. 

“Okay then,” you say as you slide off the couch.

“What’re you-” he asks, but freezes as you position yourself between his legs. His body tenses as you undo his belt, quickly unfastening the button and yanking the zipper down. The rock hard bulge protrudes through the fabric of his underwear, begging to escape. You pull the band down, freeing his already-leaking cock. You take the length in your hands, giving it a few slow strokes. He sinks into the couch with a loud groan.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, your touch sending him to another planet. 

With a swirl of your tongue you lap up the precum dripping from his tip, causing him to let out the biggest whine. You wrap your lips around the head, slowly taking his length into your mouth. 

“Fuckkkkkkk, y/n…” 

He lets out a gasp as you swallow him to his base. He places one hand softly upon your head as you begin to move your mouth up and down his cock. Within seconds he is a moaning, blubbering mess.

“Feels so good baby, oh god don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot oh my god… fuckkkk…”

You increase your pace. Between moans he continues praising you, whining and whimpering, begging you for more. The man simply cannot shut up about how good you’re sucking him off.

And it’s making you so incredibly wet right now.

You want to touch yourself so badly, but your priority is pleasuring Soonyoung. And judging by the way he is wriggling under you, bucking his hips and fucking his cock into your throat, unintelligibly babbling as he moans your name - you’re doing a pretty damn good job.

“Oh fuck,” he cries out. “Fuck, y/n, gonna cum…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before hot white ropes are hitting the back of your throat. He grips onto your hair as he cums, cock pulsating in your mouth as he rides out his high. As he comes down, he collapses into the sofa - you slowly pull your mouth off of him, making a show of swallowing all of his cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n…”

You climb back up onto the couch. He immediately leans in and starts kissing you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Are you seriously thanking me for sucking your dick?”

He shrugs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “You just gave me the best head of my life, least I can do is say thanks.”

“Actually,” he corrects himself right away, “I take that back. If you’ll let me, can I… may I please eat you out?”

You burst out laughing. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Sorry, if you don’t want-”

“No no no,” you tell him, still laughing. “It’s not that, I’ve just never had anybody ask me so politely like that before.”

His face lights up, hopeful. “So can I?” he pleads enthusiastically. “Pleaseeeeeeee? Please please please?”

You lean your head into his shoulder, giggling like an idiot.

“Soonyoung, you are truly one of a kind.”

He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up until you are eye to eye. His nose presses into yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You smile as you kiss him.

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

He practically leaps off the couch, startling you. He grabs your hand, pulling you up and directing you toward his bedroom.

“Wait,” he says as he pauses. He looks at you very seriously.

“My room or yours?”

“Don’t care,” you respond eagerly.

He grins. “Yours, then.”

—

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[dancewithdeath11]

Say Sorry

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself. 

Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none, 

Word Count: 1.2k

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“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”

It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?

It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going. 

One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up. 

“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs. 

“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again. 

He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?” 

Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that. 

“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man. 

“No-”

“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.

“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed. 

But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.

The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow. 

“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition. 

Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.

He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls. 

He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”

God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was. 

“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”

“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly. 

It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you. 

You’d never doubt your best friend again…

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Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)