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[keeryhours]

birthday cake - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

It’s Iris’ first birthday, and Rafe may have gone a little overboard.

Warnings:

None, just birthday party fluff, some kissing

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N:

I love baby daddy Rafe. Let me know if you want to see more!

—

“Well don’t you look absolutely gorgeous!”

Iris smiled and clapped her hands, giggling at your excited expression. She was dressed in a big poofy pink dress, white Mary Janes on her feet. Her light brown hair had been gathered into two tiny pigtails. She had a party hat you would try to get a picture of her in later, but you knew better than to try to get her to actually wear it.

It was May 26th, exactly one year since the best, most amazing day of your life.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” JJ called as he walked through the living room carrying an armful of gifts. He had been packing the car the entire time you’d been getting Iris ready.

You picked up your daughter and sat her on your hip, grabbing her diaper bag and your purse with your free hand as you followed JJ to the door.

JJ got the last of the party supplies packed in the back of the car while you buckled Iris in her car seat, which turned out to be more difficult than expected with the floofy dress. You briefly wonder if you should have changed her at the country club.

You got it done eventually, and then you and JJ were on the road to Figure 8.

Rafe had insisted you hire a party planner. You argued with him on it at first, because you are perfectly capable of planning a first birthday party yourself, but he wouldn’t drop it, saying he didn’t want you stressing about planning and setting it up yourself. You had rolled your eyes, but he was paying for it, so you figured, what the hell.

It actually wasn’t bad at all. The party planner had involved you every step of the way just like you’d wanted to be. She let you make all the decisions while she made it all come together. It was honestly amazing.

You arrived at the country club just in time to get settled before guests began to arrive. JJ carried the gifts while you carried the baby. You had planned the party for the perfect time, she was freshly up from a nap and would probably stay in a great mood for the whole event.

Your eyes widened as you, JJ, and Iris walked into the event space that had been booked for the party. The theme you had decided on was Berry First Birthday, and it was the most extravagant baby’s birthday party you’d ever seen.

When Rafe had told you he wanted to take care of the party, you didn’t know what to think. He told you you’d still have full creative control because he knew you’d been looking forward to it, but he was going to cover it and he wanted to hire a planner. He let you make every decision, mostly staying out of it, his only instruction being “It has to be the best for my girl.”

There was a big balloon arch made up of red, white, pink, and berry colored balloons, including some actual strawberry balloons, sitting in front of a large pink backdrop with printed strawberries that said Iris’ Berry First Birthday. A vintage looking white high chair sat in front of it, a banner attached to the front that said One with pink and red tassels.

There was a long table filled with food, including some cookies in the shape of strawberries and a large spread of fresh fruit. There was a table that held champagne, which you thought was kind of funny for a one year old’s party. Another table held a giant 3-tiered white cake decorated with strawberries.

He had really gone all out. You weren’t sure why you had expected anything less.

Rafe came walking over the second he noticed you walk through the door, a grin on his face.

“There’s my birthday girl,” he said, reaching his hands out for Iris. She immediately held her arms out, leaning forward towards him.

You handed her over with a laugh, knowing you were no competition when Rafe was around. She was a complete daddy’s girl.

He placed a big kiss on her cheek as he settled her in his arms, and she giggled.

“You look so pretty, baby girl,” he complimented her, smoothing down the puffy skirt of her dress. “I love your dress.”

“Dadadadada,” she babbled in response, a gummy grin on her face. She still only had about 5 teeth. Rafe wore a pink shirt and khaki colored pants, and it was adorable the way he matched with her.

“You really went all out,” you said, taking in the extravagance of the event.

“Yeah, well,” he said, brushing you off and not taking his eyes off the baby, “she only turns 1 once.”

Rafe was always a real baby hog. Once he took her when you arrived, you had a hard time getting her back. You busied yourself arranging the gifts on the gift table and setting out the gift bags you had put together for all the guests.

Guests began to arrive not long after. You and Rafe greeted them together with Iris, the star of the show, in his arms. She absolutely ate up all the attention, giving everyone a big smile and tolerating being passed around to friends and family.

“It’s my bestie!” Sarah squealed as she walked up with Wheezie next to her, holding her hands out for her niece. Rafe reluctantly handed her over, mostly because Iris had already been reaching for Sarah anyway.

Sarah and Wheezie cooed at the baby, fussing over her outfit and hair. Rafe watched, looking impatient to get her back.

“I can’t believe you’re one already,” Sarah said, looking emotional as she hugged Iris to her chest. Iris tolerated the hold for about 2 seconds before she was wiggling free, and then she was reaching for Rafe again. Rafe took her back with a smug grin on his face.

“Me either,” you said, fighting back tears. You had been emotional all day, you definitely didn’t need to be reminded how monumental of a day it was.

You had been satisfied with cell phone pictures, but apparently Rafe had hired a whole photographer. She called you over now, to the backdrop.

There was a whole photo session while the guests helped themselves to the food and refreshments. Photos of you and Iris, Rafe and Iris, you, Rafe, and Iris together. Pictures with Iris, Rafe, Sarah, Wheezie, Ward, and Rose. Some of you and JJ with her. And of course a group photo with the pogues with the birthday girl in the center.

When it was time for cake, you settled Iris into the vintage high chair. JJ brought over her smash cake, which was a smaller version of the big cake - small, round, and white with strawberries painted in icing decorating it. There was a big 1 candle on top.

JJ handed the cake to you, and Rafe pulled out a lighter and lit the candle.

The two of you walked over to the high chair, holding the cake in front of Iris close enough to see but far enough away that she couldn’t reach the fire.

The whole party began to sing happy birthday, and it was then that it really hit you.

The past 365 days of your life flashed before your eyes. First smile, first laugh, first tooth, first word, learning to crawl. First night home from the hospital, when Rafe never strayed far from your side, holding newborn Iris every chance he got so you could eat and shower and sleep. The day she was born, when Rafe held your hand the entire time you were in labor, wiping the sweat off your face, feeding you ice chips, and telling you You’re doing amazing, babe. How it had been a complicated labor, and when she was finally out and you heard her cry, you both looked at each other and breathed out a collectively held breath of relief. Seeing your daughter for the first time, just a tiny little thing, brand new to the world and snuggling into your chest for comfort. Rafe holding her for the first time, looking at her with pure adoration, and the way he cried (but made you promise not to tell anyone about that).

Your eyes moved up to look at him, and like he had the exact same thought at the same time, he turned and his gaze met yours as you continued to sing the song. Tears welled up in your eyes and you saw his become glassy, too. You both smiled at each other, a million unspoken emotions conveyed between them.

When the song was over, you and Rafe blew the candle out together, watching Iris’ delighted face. Rafe removed the candle and you placed the little smash cake in front of Iris.

She examined it first, cautious. Rafe grabbed her little hand, dipping it in the icing and bringing it to her lips. She gladly put her fingers in her mouth, they were usually there anyway, but her face lit up with a smile when she tasted the buttercream icing.

“See? Mmm, yummy,” Rafe said, beaming at her.

“Ummy,” Iris repeated, and she dipped her hand into the cake willingly this time, grabbing a big handful and bringing it to her mouth.

Rafe laughed, delighted, and clapped his hands together once. Guests were taking pictures and videos on their phones, the photographer getting plenty of shots. Everyone continued to watch as Iris devoured her smash cake, eating until she couldn’t anymore.

You and Rafe cleaned all the cake off of her when she was finished, which always made her cranky. She screamed as you wiped her off, but you and Rafe only laughed. You were still feeling emotional.

The big cake was served to all the guests by country club staff, and again it occurred to you that you had never in your life seen such a grand event for a one year old.

Presents were opened after everyone ate, you and Rafe on either side of Iris as she ripped into her gifts. She was more interested in the paper and empty bags than the gifts inside them, but at least she was having a blast. You knew she’d be excited about the actual gifts later.

The gift table was already overflowing with the amount of guests at the party, but you swore that Rafe himself had brought half the table. It seemed like every other present handed your way had From Daddy written on it in Rafe’s handwriting.

Iris was asleep in Rafe’s arms by the time the guests began to leave. She was absolutely knocked out from all the excitement of the day.

Rafe stroked her hair absentmindedly as you both saw your guests off, thanking everyone for coming.

It was just close family and friends left, JJ and the pogues were loading up the car with Iris’ gifts while you ate another piece of birthday cake.

“Turned out pretty good,” Rafe said, speaking softly as he held your sleeping daughter.

“Are you kidding? It was amazing. You did not have to go all out like this.” You raised your eyebrows at him, icing smeared on your lips.

Rafe reached forward with his free hand, swiping his thumb across your lips and gathering up the icing. He popped his thumb into his own mouth, sucking the icing off as he held eye contact with you. You watched him, stunned for a minute.

“It’s no big deal,” Rafe said as if nothing had happened. “I wanted her to have a good party.”

You just looked at him. He was unbothered as usual.

“Well, it was a great party,” you finally said. “I appreciate it, Rafe.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me for doing things for our daughter. I want to.”

You knew he was being honest. Rafe went overboard sometimes, this being a perfect example, but he had the best intentions and it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was hard not to fall in love with him when you watched him being the world’s best dad.

When the car was packed full and there were still plenty of gifts left, Rafe told the guys to start loading the rest in his truck.

“I’m worried all this stuff isn’t gonna fit in the house,” you said, furrowing your brows as you threw away some trash.

“Anything there’s not room for she can keep at my place,” Rafe offered. Most of her stuff was at your and JJ’s house, because that’s where she spent most of her time, but she certainly was spoiled at Rafe’s too.

When everything was successfully packed up, Rafe buckled Iris into her car seat. She was so tired she barely stirred, continuing to nap as he snapped the buckles around her body and carried her to your car.

Rafe locked the car seat into the base in your back seat. He turned to you, suddenly standing so close.

“I’ll follow you back to the house,” he said quietly. “Help you unload all this stuff.”

Back at the house, you carried Iris’ seat inside, unbuckling her and bringing her to her bedroom while Rafe and JJ unloaded the cars. You changed her out of her dress and into something comfy and let her hair down.

You rocked her in the glider. She was so worn out from her day she started to drift back off quickly, her eyes fluttering shut and body relaxing in your arms.

When you stood to lay her in her crib, you noticed Rafe standing at the door. You slightly jumped when you saw him, not expecting him to be there, which made him chuckle quietly and you gave him a playful glare.

You stepped out of the room, closing the door behind you and Rafe softly.

“She’s tired, huh,” Rafe observed, smiling at you. He was in a good mood today - it had been a good day.

“Worn out,” you agreed.

Rafe reached forward, rubbing his large hand down your arm. “You did really good, by the way.”

“It was fun,” you said. “But the planner definitely did most of the work.”

“She just did the boring part, you made the whole thing come together.”

You smiled back at him. He was being sweet, he was making an effort.

“I know everyone’s been saying it all day, but I can’t believe she’s actually one,” Rafe laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It feels like she was just born.”

Your smile was tinged with sadness, the emotions from the day sticking with you. “I know. It’s too fast. All of it,” You shook your head, thinking of how fleeting her baby days had been.

“I just wish…” Rafe began, looking down at his hands instead of at you as he spoke, “That I didn’t have to miss out on any of her life.”

You were silent. You knew what he meant. But you also knew that a relationship didn’t work between the two of you. It was toxic, you were both jealous, you fought all the time. When you co-parented as two single parents, things were easy. If only you could ignore the way he made you feel.

Rafe sighed when you didn’t respond. He said your name softly. You turned to look at him, finding his deep blue eyes staring into yours. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, hand reaching up to play with your hair.

“Rafe…” you breathed, and you knew you should push him away, walk away, anything, but you don’t.

Rafe leaned down until his lips met yours, kissing you softly, gently. You felt yourself melt into his kiss, like every bit of common sense in your brain was dying.

His arms wrapped around your hips, pulling your body flush against his. Your arms went around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, massaging your own.

You moaned against his lips, which only egged him on more as he slid his hands around your body to grab your ass.

You pulled away just enough to speak. “JJ could walk back here at any second…” you whispered against his mouth.

Rafe’s lips quirked up in a smirk, because he didn’t particularly care about that. But he knew you did.

“Maybe we can go to your bedroom, then?” he proposed, his fingers stroking over your body and sending shivers across your skin.

You wanted to say yes. But it was always a bad idea, always such a bad idea - maybe for once you’d make a smart decision.

“I can’t…” you said, sounding like it pained you.

Rafe just held you for a second longer. Finally, he pressed his lips to your forehead, giving it a kiss as he pulled away from you, squeezing your arm as he let you go.

“I better get going then,” he said, and neither of you wanted him to, but you didn’t change your mind. You didn’t stop him.

Rafe turned and left the house before you could even say anything. You stood in the hallway until you heard the front door closing, his truck starting outside.

You briefly thought about running after him, begging him to come back and spend the night with you. But you don’t. You decide to have more respect for yourself than that.

But you spend the whole night in your bed, thinking of him, aching for him. Until you reach for your cell phone, charging on the bedside table. You send him an impulsive text, just seeing if he’s still up.

His response comes immediately.

Rafey

Knew you’d regret letting me leave.

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Headcannons: Nightcrawler // Sex

a/n: I'm almost out of ideas for headcannons, I wanted to pump out a few more just because they're easy for me to write and get used to writing specific characters. I promised more of our favorite blue teleporter so, here he is. These are fairly basic, for more descriptive or specific things they won't be in this format, more as actual fics instead of quick headcannons. Written as a gender-neutral reader. I hope you enjoy <3 Not edited please ignore grammar mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+ under the cut.

Whether it's your first time in general or not, the first time sleeping with Kurt is something he takes very seriously. He wants to make sure you enjoy yourself, and he wants to make sure he doesn't hurt you.

He likes to make sure the set up is all done before you even come into the room. He goes all out for your first time, no hasty habits. He will keep in mind any preferences, but he will probably do something along the lines of candles or any scents you like in the room, soft mood lighting, and making sure everything is perfect.

"I did my best, liebling. Perhaps I have gone overboard..." he would mutter, a little embarrassed, but it was from the good of his heart.

Kurt likes to take his time with you, he begins with massaging you, wanting you to completely relaxed with him. His hands are soft yet firm and know just the right amount of pressure to do when he rubs you. "Relax, I will make sure you enjoy yourself tonight...just melt into me, ja?"

When he turns you on your back, he will lean down, softly kissing you. His lips are gentle and slow, feeling yours without the need to rush. Sensual kisses fill your senses as he continues to press into yours, his tongue shyly caressing your bottom lip before he pushes it inside.

His tongue explores your mouth, your tongue fights his with little force, you let him take the lead. He smiles against your lips as you try to playfully press against his tongue, finding it cute.

When he pulls back, those kisses increase and begin to travel down your body. He leaves hot kisses along your jaw and neck, suckling and biting lightly where he can, but being mindful of his sharp teeth.

The foreplay lasts a long time, he makes sure you have at least one orgasm before moving on to the main event of the night.

His cock is beading, gently rubbing himself up and down your entrance. "Are you ready for me?" he questions, placing a kiss to your temple, his cock head positioning and slowly pressing into you.

He inches slowly, hissing at the tightness, his cheek pressed against yours while his arms hold onto you. His tail cradles you as he sheaths himself to the hilt, he twitches and throbs inside you.

"Ah - mein Gott! You are squeezing so tight..." he rasps softly into you, his hips staying still for a few seconds so you can adjust to him before he pulls back and experimentally gives you one thrust. When he hears you moan, he takes that as encouragement and continues his thrusting at a steady speed.

His hands caress your hips and hold them as his own snap into yours. He lets out soft moans and pants, his thrusts are slow enough for you to feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. The feeling of him stretching you as he moves at such a perfect speed is intoxicating.

He leans over you, his legs press into the back of your thighs as his hips are driven a bit more, his cock pushing inside at a slightly rougher pace. He will go rougher and a little harder after a few minutes, or if you as him to.

"So needy, you have a gluttonous hole, you swallow me..." he looks down and watches himself disappear with each thrust. "You know, mein kleiner schatz, gluttony is a sin~"

He grins as he finds himself driving more and more into you, "Fret not, for I am a priest and I am more than capable of forgiving you of your sins..." he purrs, his fuzzy body gently grinding into yours as his thrusts increase.

He may flip you to a new position, he may not, depending on how intense the sex is becoming. For the most part, he does like to watch your face contort in pleasure, watching you blush and whine for him. He also likes getting the opportunity to kiss you whenever he can.

He makes sure you cum first. He will rub you or jerk you however he can. His hands gently massage your body and find those sweet spots that make you jerk beneath him. He goes until those pretty whines come from your lips and then he keeps it up until you are shaking through a powerful orgasm.

When he finally orgasms, he buries himself inside you and releases there, his jaw slack and his curly hair messy atop his head, his indigo cheeks blushed purple. Those pretty yellow eyes barely open as he stiffens with his orgasm, his back straining as he becomes rigid.

Two panting bodies, he looks down at you and smiles. His nose brushes yours as he shows you affection and love. "Ich liebe dich." he whispers, slowly pulling out and wrapping his arms around you, carrying you to the bathroom.

After some heavy clean up, he gives you a moment alone to do anything you might want privacy for, and he will make sure to ready the bedroom and clean up anything.

"This way, liebe...you were so wonderful...let me take care of you now." he whispers, guiding you to a clean bed and laying you down. He loves to hold you after everything is done, his hands rub up and down your body, any sore muscles taken care of by his gentle massages.

He can be quite fussy after sex, asking if you need a drink or something to eat, if you're comfortable, if you need anything at all. But you like how he is, it makes you feel all the more loved.

Eventually, the evening ends with you two sleeping with one another, you are tucked into his body as he holds you, his arms keeping you cradled against him, his nose buried in your hair or crook of your neck, and of course that tail is always wrapped around you somehow.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[wholoveseggs]

Huhu, it's me again :) Happy New Year to you and Eggs. I have another idea once you are through with what must be a very long list <3 - So, Reader and Elijah had a romantic whirlwind encounter while she was extensively traveling Europe, living her best life. They agreed to keep it on a first name basis and on keeping things casual. One morning, she just disappears on him. Back in the US, she is taking up a new job/ studies where she meets Klaus, and they start dating (semi casual). Once he introduces her to his family for Thanksgiving, she sees Elijah again, and whatever happens after is completely up to you :) Thanks in advance.

Serendipitous

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader && Klaus Mikaelson x f!Reader } When your new life in New Orleans collides with the past you tried to outrun, you come face to face with the man you never stopped thinking about. And worse? You are sleeping with his brother.

♡♡ Once again you give me the most brilliant ideas @originals23~ thank you and I hope you enjoy! ♡♡

8.4k words {whoops} - Warnings: so much smut (there are THREE scenes in this one ~lol I may have gone overboard), unprotected sex (I know, I know, vampires can't reproduce... but reader doesn't know they are vampires...) fingering, oral (f!recieving), casual sex with Klaus, little but of angst, lot's of unresolved sexual & emotional tension, reunion sex, semi-public sex, Elijah being intense and possessive in the hottest way, Klaus being a messy but well-meaning && inappropriate use of a side table...

Your arrangement with Elijah was simple. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

You met by chance on a sunny afternoon in Florence, your tables at a café so close your elbows nearly touched. A passing comment about the wine turned into a two-hour conversation about art, history, and the fleeting beauty of life. His voice was velvet, his presence magnetic, and by the time the waiter brought the check, you were hopelessly charmed.

Keeping things uncomplicated was your idea. First names only. No talk of the future. Just two people indulging in the moment. But there was something about Elijah. His poised elegance, the way he made you feel seen. Made sticking to those rules harder every time you saw him.

Tonight was no different. Except for one thing. This was your last night in Europe, and he didn’t know. You hadn’t told him you were leaving and that the version of yourself he had come to know. The carefree traveler. The woman with no roots… she would disappear as soon as the sun rose. A part of you wanted to tell him, but the words caught in your throat every time you thought to speak. You couldn’t bring yourself to ruin the fragile perfection of what you had, even if it was destined to end.

Now, standing outside the door to his suite, you felt that familiar pull, equal parts excitement and dread. The lock clicked, and the door swung open before you could knock. Elijah stood there, immaculately dressed as always, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“Second thoughts?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Never,” you lied, stepping inside.

The suite was extravagant, warm and rich, but it was his presence that filled the room. He gestured for you to sit, though you barely made it to the sofa before he pulled you into his lap, the contact sending sparks dancing under your skin.

“I was going to ask how your day was,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “but I know you don’t tolerate small talk.”

“Not when there are better things we could be doing,” you breathed, pulling him in for a kiss.

A soft sigh escaped you as your lips met, his strong hands holding you steady, your heart beating in time with his. You were in freefall, tumbling down the rabbit hole of his affection, and as he deepened the kiss, the last shreds of your resolve fell away.

He was so, damn, crushingly good in bed. He knew how to take his time, to read the smallest shifts in your body and adjust his rhythm. When he touched you, the whole world faded away, until all that was left was the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

You tugged his shirt out of his pants, pulling on the buttons of his vest in an effort to undress him faster. He chuckled, sitting back, watching you fumble.

"I can do it," you muttered, blushing as you undid his buttons, his skin hot under your fingers.

He shrugged off his jacket, and you ran your hands up his arms, across his chest, his muscles firm and taut under his crisp shirt. He was always so impeccably dressed, his clothing clearly expensive and well-made. You’d noticed it from the start, how he carried himself like a man born to luxury, but never flaunting it—just letting it linger in the details. It made you wonder what he did for a living, how did he earn his money? You knew so little about him, yet you were about to have his cock inside you.

You quickly peeled off your dress, watching his reaction as you tossed it aside. You loved how he looked at you. As if you were the only woman in the world, his gaze filled with admiration.

"I like it when you watch me," you admitted softly.

"I'd rather have my hands on you." He replied, running his palm along your thighs, his fingers trailing dangerously high, stopping just short of where you needed him.

You let out a quiet moan, and he chuckled at your response, moving his hands under your hips and picking you up, placing you underneath him on the bed. You watched as he slid his belt from its loops, tossing it onto the floor.

"Can you keep the rest on for now?" you asked, your voice quieter than intended. "You look so good in a suit.”

"As you wish." He grinned as he unbuttoned his pants, freeing his erection, and your heart fluttered. He reached over to the bedside table, retrieving a condom.

"No," you protested, your brain-to-mouth filter long gone. "I want to feel you."

The moment the words left your lips, you knew you had gone too far. The two of you never talked about this. Hell, you didn't even know if he wanted kids. Or had kids. Or birth control. Or anything personal at all. Yet, there was a part of you that didn't care. A reckless, desperate part that wanted to feel him come inside you, to take whatever piece of him he was willing to give.

He studied your face, and you were certain he would tell you no. Any reasonable man would. But then, he dropped the condom and kissed you, a slow, lingering kiss that made you squirm.

"If that's what you want." He murmured, pulling you even closer.

You nodded, clinging to him. Your hips rose to meet him, and his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, as he slowly entered you.

This was such a bad idea. Having raw sex with a stranger. It was the kind of decision that would've gotten you a stern talking-to from your mother. And yet, you'd never been so turned on in your life.

He moved inside you, a languid roll of his hips, and a whimper escaped you. You wrapped your legs around him, urging him closer. You felt drunk, delirious, overwhelmed by the feeling of his skin against yours, his hard length filling you, stretching you, pushing deeper with each thrust.

It was different this way, more intense, the intimacy heightened. You suddenly regretted asking him to leave his suit on. You wanted more, the need for closeness clawing at your chest. You tugged on his shirt, until he took the hint, leaning back to shed it, his hips still moving, keeping a perfect, maddening, rhythm.

"You don't know what you want today, do you?" he said, his tone playful.

You always enjoyed a bit of dirty talk, but the sound of his voice now. Soothing and authoritative, the slightest edge of teasing… had your head spinning.

"Hush," you chided, trying to regain your composure.

He chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides, his fingers intertwining with yours. "I'm sorry," he said, though he didn't sound sorry at all. "Tell me what you want."

You moaned, the warmth in your belly coiling tighter. The way he held your hands, steady and sure, felt too intimate, too personal. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

"Do you want me to go harder?" He leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours, curling into a teasing smile. "Deeper?"

You nodded, closing your eyes as he adjusted his angle, his cock hitting the spot that made your toes curl. You were close, and he seemed to sense it, his hips rocking into you harder, the bed creaking under his weight.

"Do you want me to come inside you?" he whispered, his voice rough, his words sending a fresh wave of desire through you.

It was a foolish, insane, stupid idea, but lord, did you want it. You wanted to feel his release, the heat of him filling you.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his, the intensity of his gaze overwhelming.

"Yes," you breathed, "please."

The look in his eyes changed, as if a switch had flipped, the gentle teasing replaced by something deeper. It was the thing you were both trying to avoid, the emotion lurking just beneath the surface.

He let go of your hands, bracing himself on the mattress, his thrusts slowed, his pace deeper, drawing out the pleasure, the air between you charged, thick with anticipation.

"Say it again," he commanded.

"Please," you moaned. "I need-"

He silenced you with a kiss, your hands moving to his hips, clutching his ass, urging him deeper, faster.

He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his thrusts growing uneven.

"Please," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair, "come inside me."

A groan escaped him, and his body stilled, the feeling of him pulsing inside you making your whole body tense, a white-hot pleasure surging through you as you both came undone, clinging to each other as if the world would fall away without the other to anchor you.

He collapsed next to you, and you curled against him, resting your head on his chest, his heart beating fast and strong under your cheek.

You weren’t sure what this was, the two of you tangled together, basking in the afterglow. He wasn’t usually a cuddler. In fact, he’d never asked you to stay the night. Yet, here he was, running his fingers through your hair, his arms around you, holding you close.

You could hear the traffic outside, the bustle of the city. It felt surreal, as if you were watching yourself from above. The woman who’d begged him to come inside her, who craved his touch, wasn’t you. She was a stranger. A shadow of the person you pretended to be.

The thought sent a jolt through your chest, and you pulled away, sitting up and reaching for your clothes.

“It’s getting late,” you said. “I should-”

“Stay,” he said softly, his hand trailing slowly down your back. His voice was quieter than you had ever heard it, almost hesitant, and the word stuck in your chest like a splinter.

Your eyes darted toward the door, the urge to flee overwhelming. What the hell were you thinking? Reckless. Stupid. You’d never planned for this to go so far, to feel so real. Yet, when his hand slid down your back, the warmth of his touch anchored you, quieting the chaos in your mind.

You found yourself nodding, cuddling back against his chest, as if the heat of his embrace could fix everything.

“Just for a little while,” you said, trying to quiet the voice in your head.

“Mmm,” he murmured, and you could feel him smiling against your hair.

The sun had set, the sky turning a dusky purple, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the buildings below. And the two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, feeling safe, content, and hopelessly in love.

The first rays of dawn spilled through the windows, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. Elijah lay beside you, his features softened in sleep, one arm draped possessively across your waist.

You had been watching him for a while, a bit of a creepy thing to do, but he was just so handsome, even with his hair disheveled. You let your mind wander, imagining him being yours, waking up next to him every day, sharing meals and adventures. You wondered what his favorite color was, if he liked cats, his thoughts on politics. All those small details that would help bring him to life.

You also wondered what his life was like, who his family was. Maybe he was married? Cheating on his wife with you? The thought was a cold splash of reality. Of course, he was probably married. A man like him would never be single.

You sighed, running your fingers through his hair. This was such a mistake. You didn't know a damn thing about him, yet, here you were, fantasizing about a future together.

Carefully, you slipped out from under his arm, your heart aching with every movement. You dressed in silence, the weight of what you were about to do pressing down on you. Standing at the door, you glanced back at him, your chest tightening at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully.

You wanted to stay. You wanted to whisper the truth, that he was like something out of a dream. But you couldn’t. Because dreams didn't last. They didn't have roots. And you had a life to get back to.

So, instead, you turned and walked out the door, not letting yourself look back.

The New Orleans heat was relentless, thick with humidity, wrapping around you like a second skin. The streets buzzed with music and conversation, and even after months of living here, the city's energy still caught you off guard. It was a stark contrast to Europe, where everything felt steeped in quiet history. Here, everything moved fast. Loud, unpredictable, alive.

You had built a life here, found a job you actually enjoyed, and for the first time in a long time, things felt normal. A fresh start. And yet, no matter how far you ran, how many new routines you built, the ghost of the mysterious Elijah  still lurked in the quiet moments. Not often. Not intentionally. But in the space between thoughts, his presence would slip in. His hands, his voice, the way he had looked at you…

You didn’t dwell on it…

Or at least, you told yourself you didn’t…

Instead, you threw yourself into your new life. And a big part of that life was Klaus.

Not in a romantic, sweep-you-off-your-feet way. That would be a disaster, and you knew better. Klaus wasn’t a boyfriend, he was more of… a friendly force in your life. Someone you got drinks with, argued with, occasionally rolled around in bed with. He was charming in a way that made people want to orbit around him, and somehow, you had ended up in that orbit.

You met him at an art gallery downtown, where he had been swirling a glass of red wine and smirking at a particularly ugly modern piece like it had personally offended him. You had made some offhanded joke about abstract art being a scam, and he had laughed, a sharp, knowing laugh, like he was having the exact same thought.

After that, he had a way of showing up. Inviting you out, dragging you into conversations about history and art over whiskey, introducing you to the chaotic energy of the city’s nightlife. You got along. He was fun. He had a mean streak, but you knew how to handle men like that. It was easy.

And maybe, if things were different, you would’ve let something more happen between you. But you both understood what this was…Just company, just passing time. Just a friendly hookup until real love came along… If it ever did.

The soft breeze drifting through the open window did little to cool the heavy heat of the room. The sheets were a tangled mess, kicked aside during the night’s events, and beside you, Klaus lay sprawled out, one arm thrown over his face, his body lazy and sated.

You stretched, the slow ache between your thighs a familiar, satisfying reminder of last night. It hadn’t been anything deep or meaningful, just fun. Easy. No expectations, no promises.

Klaus was good company, someone who understood the unspoken rules of this arrangement: pleasure, no strings. He was charming, sure. Attractive, obviously. But you both knew what this was.

As if sensing your eyes on him, he stirred, his hand sliding absently across your stomach. “Mmm, already awake?” His voice was thick with sleep.

“Fortunately, for you,” You smirked, shifting to straddle his hips, your palms pressing against his chest.

He grinned, eyes still heavy-lidded. “Eager thing, aren’t you?”

“Only because you’re so damn easy.” You dragged your nails lightly down his torso, reveling in the way he tensed beneath you.

Klaus chuckled, but it turned into a low groan as you rocked against him, teasing. His hands settled on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to let you know he enjoyed it.

“If you’re going to keep teasing, love,” he murmured, voice rough, “you better be prepared to finish what you started.”

“I always finish what I start.” You reached for the bedside drawer, rolling on a condom before sinking down onto him, the feeling of your bodies connecting making you both exhale.

The rhythm was familiar, something you both knew well by now. You took what you needed, moved together in a way that was more about chasing pleasure than anything sentimental. Klaus let you take control, his hands gripping your thighs, guiding your movements but never demanding.

It was good. The kind of effortless chemistry that kept you coming back to him.

But then. It happened.

One second, it was Klaus beneath you, his sharp smirk, his blue eyes watching you with hunger.

And then. The stranger that you couldn't get out of your mind. Elijah.

His face flickered into focus like a mirage, his dark eyes holding you in that way that had once made your breath catch.

You froze, a jolt of panic hitting your system like ice water.

No. No.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you blinked hard, trying to shake it. When you opened your eyes again. Klaus. Just Klaus. Watching you with mild confusion.

"Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

"N-no."

"Are you sure? We don't have to keep going if-"

"No. Just give me a minute," you said, swallowing the knot in your throat, your mind scrambling.

This had never happened before. Never. But there it was. An image of him burned into your memory, overlaying Klaus, taking the place of your reality.

Klaus halted your hips and sat up, his brows knitting with concern. "You're trembling."

"Sorry." You shook your head, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, though it felt like your whole world was shattering. "Just... got distracted."

"By?" He was giving you a look, somewhere between concerned and amused, his curiosity obvious.

You sighed. He was going to push this.

"Promise you won't get weird about it?"

"Of course not, love."

You swallowed, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"Someone else."

Klaus chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. "Don't tell me, the thought of me alone isn't enough to satisfy? That will hurt my ego."

"Don't be ridiculous." You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to squirm. "It's not about you. It's... an old fling."

"Oh?" His expression shifted, his tone more serious.

"Yeah, someone from when I was traveling. Just... popped into my head, that's all." You shrugged, a feeble attempt to make it seem unimportant.

"I see," He studied your face, his gaze unnervingly steady.

You braced for him to ask more questions, maybe to get jealous or offended, but instead, he flipped you onto your back, a wicked grin on his face.

"I guess I must not be doing my job correctly," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the spot on your neck that always made your toes curl. "I think we can remedy that."

He was a bit rougher with you this time, a bit less playful, his movements filled with a purpose. Like a challenge. He wanted to keep your mind from wandering. And, hell, it worked for a while. The way he was kissing you, moving inside you, touching you, it was so intense. So present.

You moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair, and he pulled away, his gaze searching.

"Is that good?" he asked, his voice softer than usual, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah," you breathed. "Very."

His hips picked up their pace, his lips hot on your skin, the tension building inside you with each thrust.

You came undone, Klaus following not long after, collapsing onto the mattress beside you, his breathing ragged.

"Still thinking about that old fling?"

You chuckled, swatting his shoulder. "Shut up. Don't be jealous,"

"Me? Never."

You sighed, glancing at the clock. "I need to get ready for work,"

Klaus shrugged, rolling out of bed, stretching, and pulling on his clothes. You watched him, the way he moved, the confidence he exuded.

He was handsome, of course. He was the kind of guy you'd notice immediately, his features chiseled and striking, the perfect amount of scruff. But it wasn't just that. There was something else. A certain... charisma. A presence that made you feel as if he could command a room, the whole city, without even trying.

"Are you coming out tonight?"

"Hmm?" You blinked, his question catching you off guard.

"Tonight, to the dinner party." He cocked his head, looking at you expectantly. "Unless, of course, you've decided to spend your evening pining after someone who isn't here."

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

"Well, don't sound too enthusiastic, love."

You laughed, swatting his arm. "Stop, you know I'm going. I'm actually looking forward to meeting your siblings, mostly to get dirt on you."

"That's a dangerous game, darling." He smirked, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "But, if it makes you happy, I'll see you tonight."

"See you."

He gave you one last grin, the door clicking softly as he left.

You flopped back against the pillows, letting out a shaky breath. Trying to erase a specific pair of haunting brown eyes from your memory. You weren't the type to be hung up on anyone, especially a stranger you hooked up with months ago. Yet, here you were, feeling like an absolute idiot.

You shook your head, getting out of bed, ignoring the way your legs trembled.

This was stupid. A minor setback.

You would move on.

You had to move on.

Right?

You knew Klaus was rich. But you were aware just how insanely wealthy he truly was. It was something that should've been obvious, considering the way Klaus threw around his money, but seeing his ridiculously lavish compound in person was a completely different experience.

The place was huge, sprawling, elegant in a way that only an ancient estate could be. The architecture was stunning, and you were fairly certain the entry hall alone was the size of your apartment.

"You live here?" You glanced over at Klaus, taking in his nonchalant expression.

He nodded, "It's not too shabby, is it?"

You laughed, "Not too shabby? This is insane."

You took in the artwork hanging on the walls, the ornate furniture, and the grand staircase that seemed to stretch on forever. It was the kind of place people only saw on tv. You felt underdressed, almost as if you had stepped into some kind of dream.

"Come, the food is almost ready, and I want to introduce you to my family."

Klaus led you through the winding halls and corridors, until you finally reached a large dining room. There was a massive table, laden with food, and sitting around it were a dozen or so people, chatting and laughing.

Klaus cleared his throat, catching the attention of the room. "Everyone, this is Y/N, my... friend."

A chorus of greetings echoed through the room, and Klaus gestured to a particularly attractive group sitting at the far end of the table.

"These are my siblings, Rebekah, Kol, and Elijah."

You froze, the blood draining from your face as they turned to face you.

It was him.

The man you had been trying so hard to forget, the one whose presence had taken over your life. The same dark eyes, the same gentle smile, the same strong, capable hands. Those hands.

The memories hit you in a dizzying wave. The feeling of his skin, the taste of his lips, the way he held you, the way he looked at you, memorizing every detail.

Elijah was a ghost. A shadow. Someone you would never see again.

Until now.

His face paled, his expression mirroring your own shock. The two of you stood there, staring at each other, the rest of the room falling away.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind reeling. How? How the fuck was he here? Was this a dream? Some cruel joke the universe was playing?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unable to find the words.

The silence stretched on, growing heavier and heavier, until Klaus finally cleared his throat, breaking the spell.

"Sit, please. I have more guests coming soon."

You sank into a chair next to you Elijah, your hands visibly trembling. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare.

Klaus walked away to greet some more guests, leaving you with his siblings. You snuck a glance at Elijah, taking in his stiff posture, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. You couldn't bear it, the weight of the silence, the way his presence was overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Y/n, that's a lovely name. How did you meet our brother?" Rebekah asked, her voice slicing through the silence like a knife.

You blinked, struggling to compose yourself. "We met at a gallery. I was, um, critiquing some of the art, and he agreed."

Rebekah chuckled, "Sounds like Klaus."

Elijah remained silent, his expression unreadable. Rebekah gave him a strange look, then turned her attention back to you.

"How long have the two of you been together?" she asked.

"Oh, we're not. Together. We're just friends." You managed a small laugh, trying to hide the panic in your voice.

"Klaus? Friends? Impossible," Kol interjected, his tone teasing.

"Well, we're friendly," you said, avoiding the subject entirely.

A waiter came by and filled your wine glass, and you thanked him, downing half the glass in one go. The alcohol was a welcome distraction, burning a warm path down your throat.

"How are you liking New Orleans?" Rebekah asked, her tone a little more casual.

"It's amazing, honestly. The energy here is unlike anything I've ever experienced. The people, the music, the history." You paused, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile. "I can see why people fall in love with this city."

Rebekah smiled, "It does have its charms."

Klaus returned, settling into his seat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair.

"So, what have you been discussing?"

"Oh, just the usual. How we're all shocked you've found a friend," Kol said.

Klaus snorted, "Hardly. I have plenty of friends."

"Yes, but they're not usually women," Kol retorted.

"That's not true Kol, he also has Cami," Rebekah chimed in.

Klaus removed his hand from the back of your chair, his cheeks growing slightly pink. He looked down, busying himself with filling his plate, his posture defensive.

Kol let out a laugh and pointed down to the other end of the table. "What's wrong Nik, don't want her to hear?"

You followed his gaze, landing on a pretty blonde who was chatting animatedly with some of the other guests.

"You didn't tell us Camille was coming," Rebekah said.

"It didn't seem important," Klaus muttered, not meeting anyone's eyes.

You had no idea who this girl was, but clearly, Klaus had a thing for her. You could practically feel the awkward tension radiating off him.

He was sweet, but a little rough around the edges. It made sense that he'd be a bit of a mess when it came to his love life.

You couldn't help but smile at that.

"She's beautiful," you said sincerely, nudging him playfully.

Klaus sighed, finally meeting your gaze. "You think?"

"Definitely." You paused, watching his face soften a little. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

Klaus shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You're not supposed to encourage me, love."

"Why not? Isn't that what friends do?" You grinned.

His eyes narrowed, his expression playful as he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. "If I'm with her I'm not with you. Where would that leave us, hmm?"

Before you could respond, Elijah abruptly stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "Excuse me."

All of you watched him walk out of the room, his sudden departure startling everyone.

"Is he alright?" Rebekah asked, her tone worried.

Kol shrugged. "He's been in a mood lately."

"You know how fussy he can get about dinner parties," Klaus said, his tone dismissive.

The rest of the dinner was a blur. You tried your best to engage in conversation, but the weight of Elijah's presence was suffocating, drowning out the noise. He had returned halfway through the meal, his expression stony, his movements stiff and calculated. He didn't look at you, not once, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense, every time he thought no one was paying attention.

Klaus had taken your advice and made a point to speak with Cami, his body language betraying how flustered he was. He was trying so hard, and it was equal parts amusing and heartwarming.

It was almost enough to distract you from the fact that Elijah was in the same room.

Almost.

As the meal came to an end, the crowd started to thin, people milling about the room, talking and laughing.

Klaus was engrossed in conversation with Cami, his eyes never leaving her face. You smiled to yourself, happy to see him making progress.

You scanned the room, noticing that Elijah was nowhere in sight. Without thinking, you excused yourself, walking through the grand hallways, searching.

You didn't know what you were looking for, or why. But the thought of him being so close, yet out of reach, was too much to bear.

The house was enormous, and as you wandered the hallways, you realized just how impossible it would be to find him. You went up a few floors, finding rooms filled with more art, more artifacts, more history. It was mesmerizing, a window into a world you had never experienced.

Finally, you reached a hallway lined with bedrooms, each one as opulent as the last. You were about to turn around and head back downstairs when a door opened, and Elijah stepped out, freezing as soon as he saw you.

A long silence stretched between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

He was even more handsome than you remembered, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his face flushed. He looked upset, his jaw clenched, his posture stiff.

You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run. To flee and never look back. But you couldn't. Something in his expression kept you rooted in place.

"Hi," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Hello," he replied, his voice smooth, but laced with an emotion you couldn't quite identify.

"I'm, um, sorry to bother you. I was just... looking for the bathroom." You winced, realizing how flimsy the excuse was.

"Right." His eyes searched your face, his brow furrowing.

"Sorry," you repeated, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

"There's no need to apologize," he said, his expression softening a little. "I'm sure this is all... unexpected."

"Yeah, it is," you breathed.

Another tense silence passed between the two of you. Elijah looked conflicted, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn't decipher.

"You didn't tell me you had a brother," you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Elijah's eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "We didn't exactly do a lot of talking about our personal lives,"

Your face burned. "Right, yeah. Sorry, I wasn't... trying to accuse you of anything," you stammered.

Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, I'm sorry… That was a poor choice of words."

You nodded, chewing on your lip. The two of you were both obviously uncomfortable.

"Look, I... I don't know what to say, really. This is... weird. Like, insanely weird," you said.

Elijah laughed, a sound that was a mix of relief and nervousness. "Agreed."

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. "I... honestly didn't think I would ever see you again."

"I didn't either."

"And now..."

"And now."

You hesitated, your heart thumping in your chest as you took a tentative step forward. "What are the odds, huh?"

"Quite low, I imagine."

You laughed, a soft, breathless sound. "I guess the universe had other plans."

Elijah's expression shifted, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his mask. He looked conflicted, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't bring himself to.

Instead he took a deep breath, his voice softer, gentler, "I'm glad you're doing well,"

"You too," you managed, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, to close the distance between the two of you.

"I should probably get back," you said, not really wanting to.

"Of course," he murmured, not moving away from you, his gaze intense.

You lingered for a moment, neither of you willing to break eye contact. It was strange, surreal. A feeling you couldn't put into words. It pulled you in, and before you knew it, you were moving towards him, drawn by some invisible force.

His hand came up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft, but urgent, and you melted into him, the familiarity of his touch making your heart ache.

You weren't sure how long you stood there, kissing him, holding him, your hands tangled in his hair, his body pressed against yours. It was like no time had passed, the two of you falling back into the same pattern, the same rhythm.

He guided you backwards until you hit a side table, your back pressing against the polished wood. He lifted you, his lips never leaving yours as he sat you on the edge, his body caging you in.

His hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress up, his eyes darkening as his fingers brushed the lace of your underwear.

You pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes, your hands grasping the front of his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, the beating of his heart.

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind," he murmured, kissing down your neck.

"Me neither," you admitted, a small moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

He lifted your thighs, planting your feet on the edge of the table, spreading your legs wide, his hips pressed flush against yours.

You could feel the hardness of him, the proof of his desire for you, and it sent a wave of heat straight through your core.

You wanted him. Badly. More than you could ever remember wanting anything.

"We shouldn't do this here," you breathed, his lips tracing the shell of your ear.

"I don't care," he whispered, his fingers tugging at the hem of your dress, sliding the fabric up to your hips.

"Someone might see."

"Good," he said softly, his lips curling into a smirk, just inches from yours. "Let them see."

You gasped, arching your back as his fingers found the wetness between your legs, his movements slow and deliberate, teasing you. He slowly circled your clit, drawing lazy patterns, his gaze fixed on your face, taking in every detail, every reaction.

You tugged on his shirt, trying to anchor yourself, to keep from getting swept away. Your heart was hammering, the heat building in your core, the anticipation making you dizzy.

He pushed a finger inside you, then another, his movements firm and steady, his thumb circling your clit. He was taking his time, drawing it out, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze filled with something raw and intense.

It was that same feeling as before, the one that made you do things you wouldn't normally do. The one that made you feel alive.

Your legs trembled, your body trembling as he brought you to the edge, only to pull back. His fingers teased your entrance, before sinking deep inside you, curling and hitting that spot that made your vision blur.

"Fuck," you gasped, gripping his shoulders, trying desperately to hold on.

He grinned and moved to his knees, his eyes locking on yours, and it was almost too much. The sight of him, kneeling before you, his dark gaze burning into yours, his fingers still buried inside you.

He pulled his fingers from your core, the emptiness almost unbearable, and his tongue flicked over your clit. You cried out, a strangled, broken sound, and he chuckled, the vibrations making your toes curl.

He licked and sucked and teased, his movements perfectly measured, knowing exactly what to do, where to touch. He devoured you, his lips and tongue working in tandem, his fingers sinking back into you, stretching you open, filling you.

You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pressure building, your legs shaking, your fingers tangled in his hair. He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and hunger, and it was all too much.

You came, your vision whiting out, his name a strangled cry on your lips. He kept going, working you through the aftershocks, his touch gentle, coaxing, until finally, he stopped, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

He stood, and you caught a glimpse of the bulge straining against his trousers, before he leaned down, his lips meeting yours, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

He kissed you, deep and slow, and you felt the loss of his touch acutely, the emptiness inside you almost unbearable. You reached for him, fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him, to have him inside you.

"I can't believe we are doing this," you muttered, laughing nervously as his zipper came down. "Again," you added, the word barely a whisper.

"Neither can I," he admitted, a small, wry smile on his lips.

"This is insane."

"I'm well aware."

You slipped your hand inside his trousers, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core. He let out a soft groan, his hips pressing against yours, his body urging you on.

"Don't get me pregnant," you half joked, your voice a strained whisper.

He laughed, the sound rich and deep, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek.

"I won't."

You tugged at his trousers, pulling them down just enough to free him. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, and you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly, the velvety skin sliding under your palm.

He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, his lips brushing yours.

"Do it," you breathed, the need coursing through your veins.

He thrust forward, filling you completely, his fingers digging into your thighs. You moaned, the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, consuming you.

He set a slow, deliberate pace, trying not to cause the table to creak and rock. It was sensual and maddening, the feeling of his cock easing in and out of you, his breathing ragged, his hands holding onto you for dear life.

The pleasure was overwhelming, your body tightening around him, drawing him in, trying to keep him there. He pressed his forehead to yours, his lips grazing your jaw, his hips snapping into yours, harder and faster, the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding echoing through the empty hall.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and labored, his hands moving down your back and under your ass, pulling you flush against him.

Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, your eyes squeezed shut, your entire world focused on the feel of him inside you.

It was like nothing else mattered, nothing existed except the two of you, joined together in the most intimate way.

He held you, his movements growing more frantic, his thrusts uneven and jerky, and you could feel him coming apart. He bit down on your shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, his cock pulsing inside you as he spilled his release.

The two of you stayed like that, awkwardly settled on the table, trying to catch your breath, to come down from the high.

After a moment, he straightened, tucking himself back into his trousers and running a hand through his hair, his cheeks flushed.

"That was..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Intense," you offered, as he helped you stand.

"Indeed," he murmured, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

He pulled you in for another kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair, his lips soft and warm. You melted into him, losing yourself in the feeling of his body against yours.

After a long moment, he pulled back, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn't decipher. He cleared his throat, the moment breaking, the reality of the situation crashing down around you.

"Well, I should... um, get back," you said, the words hanging in the air, awkward and stilted. "Before anyone notices we're gone,"

"No need, we all heard you two," Klaus' voice echoed through the hall, startling you both.

You turned to see him leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug grin on his face.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you hastily fixed your dress, Elijah stepped in front of you, blocking the sight from his brother.

Klaus let out a laugh, "oh no need for all that Elijah, it's nothing I haven't seen before," he drawled.

"What are you doing here?" Elijah demanded, his tone laced with annoyance.

"Well, I was looking for my Y/n. You wandered off and then I heard these distressing sounds coming from the hallway. So naturally, I came to investigate," he paused, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And here you are,"

"I, uh, got lost," you offered weakly, still a little stunned.

"In his pants?" Klaus smirked, his gaze traveling between the two of you.

You were speechless, not quite sure what to say. It was humiliating, being caught like this, exposed and vulnerable. There were clearly a lot of complicated feelings between the two of them, things that had nothing to do with you.

Elijah wrapped his arm around your waist, it surprised you, the way he pulled you against him, as if he was claiming you. You glanced up at him, the look on his face unreadable. He seemed unfazed by Klaus' accusation, his expression carefully neutral.

"If you must know, we ran into each other," Elijah said evenly, his hand stroking the small of your back. "We know each other from... Another city."

"Oh, really? How serendipitous," Klaus replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, it is," Elijah said simply, his posture relaxed.

Klaus shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of you, the realization slowly dawning on him. "Wait... That hook-up you were telling me about? The old fling you couldn't get out of your head? That's... Elijah?"

You nodded, your cheeks burning so hot they could melt ice.

Klaus began to laugh, a deep, genuine belly laugh. He wiped at his eyes, his whole body shaking with amusement. "This is too much. This is... I don't even know what to say."

Elijah sighed, his jaw clenched, but his eyes amused. "I would prefer it if you didn't say anything."

"Oh, come on, this is funny," Klaus said, taking a step closer. "You're the reason she was all hung up and miserable,"

"Miserable?" Elijah frowned, glancing down at you.

"Klaus, stop," you pleaded, the humiliation making your chest ache.

"What?" He shrugged. "I'm just stating facts. You were a mess because of him."

Elijah's eyes searched yours, his expression conflicted. His hand was still on the small of your back, and he rubbed it in small, soothing circles.

"Niklaus, if you don't mind, I wish to have a private conversation with her," Elijah said, his tone firm.

"Alright, fine, but do try to keep it down, hmm? We have guests," Klaus winked at the two of you, turning on his heel and heading down the hallway.

You watched him walk away, then you leaned up and kissed Elijah on the cheek. "I'll be right back, okay?"

He nodded, his gaze following you as you walked down the hallway after Klaus.

"Nik!" You called, catching up to him.

"Yes, love?"

"Look, I'm sorry," you said, trying to gauge his reaction.

"For what?" He looked genuinely confused.

"For... sleeping with Elijah," you said, a little unsure.

Klaus laughed, his expression light and teasing. "We were never going to work out, love. Our hearts belong to others,"

"I know," you shrugged. “But still... He's your brother,"

"And you love him," Klaus said simply, a small, knowing smile on his lips.

"What? No, I... I don't even know him, not really," you protested.

"You will, and he'll love you, too," Klaus said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"It doesn't matter. It was just... sex," you tried to explain.

"Was it, though?"

"Yes," you insisted, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head, the one that knew he was right.

Klaus shook his head, his gaze softening a little. He pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

"Listen, it's none of my business. But if there's something between the two of you, some spark or whatever... Don't let it go. Life's too short for regrets,"

You pulled back, looking up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you, Nik,"

"Of course," he replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "And do try to be a bit more discreet, hmm? You two aren't exactly quiet."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, trying to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. "I'll try."

He laughed, and then headed back downstairs to rejoin the party. Off to find Cami, no doubt.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to Elijah, his eyes fixed on you, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race.

You reached out, taking his hand, his fingers lacing with yours, and he led you to his room, the door closing softly behind the two of you.

You stood in the middle of his bedroom, the air thick with tension, everything was happening so fast.

"So," he began, his voice low and soft.

"So," you echoed, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

Elijah exhaled, slow and measured, but there was no hiding the tension in his posture. “Are you going to run again?”

The question hung between you, weighted with more than just tonight.

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at your sides. You owed him the truth.

“Elijah…” You took a step closer, your voice unsteady. “I ran because I was scared.”

His jaw clenched slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you speak.

“I told myself that what we had was casual. That it didn’t mean anything. But then you started looking at me like I was something more.” Your throat tightened. “Like I mattered. And that scared the hell out of me.”

His expression softened, just a fraction, but his silence pressed against you like a weight.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep going. “I didn’t know how to handle the way you made me feel.” Your voice was quieter now, raw. “I thought if I ran, I could outrun it. But I didn’t. I never did. Because no matter where I went, no matter what I did, you were always there.”

A beat passed. Then two. And then his hand was cupping your cheek, his eyes searching yours.

“And now?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And now…” You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m standing here. With you. And I don’t want to run anymore.”

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. “Good,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m not letting you go this time.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing as his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate. It was a promise, a commitment, a declaration of everything you’d both been too afraid to say.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Stay,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Not just tonight. Always.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Always,” you echoed, your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You kissed him again, slow and sweet, the familiar taste of him flooding your senses. He was everything you'd been missing, everything you'd needed. There was so much more left to say, but it would have to wait. In this moment, there was only the two of you, tangled together, a promise of something more. This was where you were meant to be, you were sure of it.

~Epilogue

The first thing you registered was warmth. The kind that seeped into your bones, wrapped around you like a quiet reassurance. You stirred, blinking against the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. The sheets were tangled around your legs, the scent of him lingering in the fabric.

Elijah's arm was draped over your waist, his breathing deep and steady against the back of your neck. The weight of him, the solid presence at your side, was grounding in a way you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t realized how much you missed waking up with someone... not just anyone, but him.

For a moment, you didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Because this felt… real. Permanent.

And for the first time in a long time, the thought didn’t terrify you.

You shifted slightly, your fingers ghosting over his forearm where it rested against your stomach. He stirred behind you, his grip instinctively tightening, pulling you closer.

“Second thoughts?” His voice was husky with sleep, laced with quiet amusement.

You smiled, a warm flush spreading through you.

"Not a single one," you murmured, turning in his arms, your gaze meeting his.

"Good," he murmured, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you flush against him.

It felt... Right. Like you'd always belonged here, in his bed, his arms. Like he'd always been the one, waiting for you.

There was no more running.

No more fear.

Just this.

Just him.

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Raph ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Raph ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Donnie ♡⁠˖ Mikey ♡⁠˖

Meeting him...

He rescues you from some foot soldiers wanting to get some extra cash

At first, he's angry, thinking you'll run off

He's already on the defense, immediately saying "What! Yer not gonna thank the monster that saved ya?"

You just look up at him in surprise and say "well I was going to until you got all passive aggressive"

And he tries to suppress his shock that

1, you're talking to him,

2 you weren't scared of him and

3, that you talked back to him

Raph just sorta half laughs at you and says "Well shit, ya got me there doll"

He "begrudgingly" walks you home

And after that you ask for his number, which he gives

Befriending Him

You two are sass and sass

Always going at one another, you are much calmer however

He'll invite you to train with him (lifting weight, etc.)

Whenever he gets mad, he'll go to you to vent

You may even get a punching bag for your apartment so he can vent and punch

You put him in his place whenever goes overboard with the insults

Or you give him a genuine hurr look and he'll stop

I personally think Raph cooks very well

So he'll try out recipes with you

Not around his brothers tho, so they don't see him all soft

He might teach you how to knit

As one of his only friends, he wants you safe even if he won't admit it

So, he'll teach you some basic self defense skills, and let you use them on him

All in all, as a friend, it takes time for Raph to trust you, but once he does, he is an absolute sweetheart (most of the time)

First Date

These sessions of self defense usually include

Lingering stares

Bashfully looking away

and Blushing at the smallest of touch

These drive Raph absolutely insane

His confession probably takes place when you two are blowing off steam sparring together

You walked into the layer a bit upset, having had a bad day

And when you got the, Raph was already pissed

(he has been trying to think of ways to ask you out, and his brothers ideas aren't good enough)

So, you two are sparring and you start getting up close and personal

Finally, Raph ends up pinning you down

And you see just how mad he is, so you ask him about it

And in the heat of the moment he just yells

"Can't find a good fucking date to take you on!"

You both freeze

Raph is shitting bricks, having gone pale and has a face of utter horror

You are just as shocked and staring at him, overwhelmed

You finally move to close the space

And give him a kiss on the cheek with, "Well, I recently took a trip to Joanna, so we could hang at my place, watch movies and knit"

Raph feels as though the weight of the world was just lifted off of him, he is in complete disbelief, but accepts

He comes to your home 15 minutes early with his needles

He greets you a little awkwardly and asks to borrow your kitchen, you let him

And he makes the absolute best dish ever

As you eat you pick a series to watch (hells kitchen)

And as you two eat, you and Raph yell at the TV and criticize along with Gordon Ramsey

Once your done eating you each start knitting

Or you watch him knit

At the end of the night, he's done with his little project

It's a little tapestry knitted to look like his mask framed

He helps you hang it up

And gives you a goodnight kiss good bye

After this, he is all but floating back to the lair, just content that you share his feelings

Dating Him

As long as you've been able to cultivate a proper and close friendship with him before you start dating, he isn't as rough around the edges as you'd think

There are somethings he still hasn't told you

But those will come with time and patience

Dating Raph means Actions > Words

Although he'll call you things like Doll, Doll face, Babe, and even Sweetheart (in private)

He mainly shows his love through trying to solve your problems, similar to donnie

And really appreciates quality time

And from you, he'd really appreciate words of affirmation

Raph wants you to not only tell him, but show him you really love him

Private cuddles and sweet nothing's are his favorite

You laying on his chest while he knits

Him cooking your favorite meal to take for lunch

If you ever need help with heavy lifting, he near teleports to you

Can't open a jar? He's there Can't seem to lift the couch to mop? He's there Wanna rearrange your furniture? He's there

Even though Raph acts like he is bothered, he takes pride in taking care of you

He wants you to know just how meaningful you are to him

And if you stay up late enough while you two cuddle

You'll hear him express just how much you mean to him

"I know I don't say this often but, to me yer irreplaceable. Nobody makes me feel the way you make me feel. It's like ya have some sort of calming spell around ya. I really appreciate ya sweetheart"

[sinsandsweetness]

having extremely dirty thoughts about stepdad!Rick, so i thought i’d share…

GOOD MANNERS & DIRTY SECRETS

(stepdad!Rick x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+, use of “daddy”, overstim, vibrator, squirting… u know the drill <3

Imagine Rick snooping through your nightstand, thinking he’ll probably find something fun and naughty, but not realizing it would be a huge, pink, magic wand, tucked way in the back under a couple of vintage playboy magazines. His cock starts to stir in his jeans at the thought of you using it late at night when he’s asleep in the bedroom across the hall. Trying your best to keep quiet, biting your lip and gripping your strawberry patterned pillowcase. Of course, you immediately catch him being a fucking perv, scowling as you reach your bedroom door. About to chew him out for going through your stuff, but you stop yourself. Eyes going wide and swallowing hard when you see your dirty little secret, being turned over and inspected in his palm. Your heart and mind start to race when he looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. Worried that you’ll be in trouble. That he might be angry with you. Well, more so at the fact that you’d been keeping it from him. But he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even give you a second to react before the door is locked and your shorts are on the floor. Your legs pushed right to your chest as he holds you against the plush mattress. With the toy on the highest setting, he presses it right against your clit, over the fabric of your white cotton panties. And you cum so embarrassingly quick that you actually apologize. As if he would mind. As if you needed his permission. And at that thought, along with your pathetic, repetitive, whimpering, “m’ sorry-”, he has to squeeze the base of his cock. Belt already unbuckled and jeans pushed halfway down his ass. He keeps the vibrator on your sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re a squirming mess underneath him. With adorable, little tears, welling up in your innocent eyes. When he notices, he decides to tell you what he what he really thinks. “If you wanna own a fuckin’ toy like this, then you better be able to take it, sweetheart. So cut it out. Enough with the tears, yeah?” And to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t let up when you cum again. Not until you’re physically writhing against his hold, grabbing at his forearm and begging him to stop because you really can’t take it anymore. That’s when he gives you a break. Just long enough to pull your damp panties to the side. A groan slips from his lips at the sight of your picture perfect pussy, all slick and glistening. The wetness that he helped create, sickeningly sweet and starting to drip down your ass. As tempting as a forbidden fucking fruit, he can’t even resist what he does next. Lining his thick, swollen, cock up with your entrance, he pushes in and fucks you hard with the wand back against your clit. Wiping your wet cheeks with his thumb, as your eyes roll back. Your quads starting to shake and twitch at the overstimulation, but you can’t even make out any words to object. Hell, you can barely think, you’re so drunk off his cock. Blissed out from the wand and his attention and his filthy words of praise. Your sweet spot being rammed into with every thrust. “Takin’ it so well, baby. One more. Just one more, sweet girl. I promise.” And he’s trying his hardest not to cum, because lord knows he could have from the sight of you alone. But soon enough, you’re moaning like a damn pornstar, whimpering against his lips as you pull him in close, “Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you, thank you-” while you release all over him, soaking the sheets below. And the only thought going through Rick’s mind while he coats your tummy with his pearly, white ribbons, is how fucking precious you are, thanking him for making you squirt all over your stepdads cock.

(this started as a daydream, however I may have gone overboard…)

taglist - (crossed out means I couldn’t tag you) @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy

please feel free to comment/reblog if you enjoy my crazy, filthy thoughts <3

[hyuckkaiji]

my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

[tinydefector]

Kinktober Day 2

Frame Modification- Rodimus x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Nsfw, smut, genital modification, strap ons?, human/ Cybertronian.

@tf-kinktober2024

Day 1

Day 3

______________

The human stares at Rodimus for a moment with a raised eyebrow looking at the boxes of equipment. "So what exactly is all of this?" They ask looking over the different components in them. Rodimus scratches his helm sheepishly. "Well, uh, you know my size can be, heh, problematic when it comes to interfacing with you. Don't want to accidentally hurt you due to the size" 

He offers a lopsided grin. "So Perceptor and I have been tinkering. These doodads should decrease my, um, girth and increase sensitivity without compromising structure or function, if his calculations hold up." 

Rodimus clutches a box hopefully. "I care for you and I know how much you like what we have going on but i want you to be able to have more" His field radiates shy affection. 

"Your... downgrading, for me?" They nearly whisper while looking over the three boxes. There were more than one spike mod in the boxes and it made them wonder just how long Rodimus had been planning this.

Rodimus rubs the back of his helm sheepishly. "Well, yeah. This is important to me too, you know?" He gestures to the boxes. "Perceptor and I have been working on different prototypes for a while now. Wanna make sure we get it just right, so they are interchangeable."

Chuckling softly, Rodimus adds, "We may have gone a little overboard with the sampling options." Taking his lover's hands in his gently, Rodimus meets their gaze. "I love you. Your happiness and safety with me means everything to me. If modifying myself helps ensure that, it's a small price." 

Squeezing softly, he smiles. "So what d'you say we try 'em out, see which fits and what you like?" He's hoping he hadn't scared them with this information, but he did truly love them and wanted to give them the best he could. 

It makes them laugh. "I'd love to. Do all of the pieces interchange?" They inquire while pulling one of the spike mods out looking it over. This one had bright pink lights up the underside but was a bit too large in their hands larger than their arm. Rodimus perks up at the sound of their laughter, fia warm smile falling onto his face. "Sure do!" he replies. "Perce made 'em with modularity in mind." 

Leaning in, he points out how the piece in their servos connects. "That one plugs into my panel port. Then the shaft and tip snap together for a secure fit, each piece will fit to the others to integrate." Rodimus smiles before continuing "Pink light show's a bit flashy for me though. what'd you think of the sleek navy or copper ones?" Ever keen to please, he holds them up for his loger to look at.   

In truth they never thought they would be sitting there with Rodimus looking at essentially Strap-ons. " I do like the top part of the silver one there, the rest of it is just a little too thick. Might work nicely with the shaft of the Orange one which I do like the lights on and it doesn't look as long as my forearm" they laugh while pointing over to the spike as Rodimus picks it up. The tip wasn't as wide as some of the others. "How do you pull them apart and put them together? Can you show me?"

Rodimus chuckles, field pulsing with affection as he examines the proposed frankenspike. "Good eye! I think you're right - silver tip and orange shaft could be a winner." He deftly twists the pieces apart to demonstrate. "The connector ports are threaded, see? Just twist counter-clockwise to separate, then clockwise to join another piece securely." 

Reassembling the hybrid mod, Rodimus presents it proudly. "Well? What do you think - looks like it'll hit all the right nodes but still leave your ports feeling snug?" They laugh at his wording of it but in truth they were enjoying every moment of this. 

"Never thought I'd be saying that this looks so pretty. Do they connect up with your bio-lights and pulse the same colour? And how exactly do you attach it to yourself?" As much as they were loving the fact that they and Rodimus would be able to be intimate they are so curious over how it all works.

Rodimus grins, field alight. "Never think I'd be so pleased by a compliment on my crotch accessory collection!" It makes them both burst into laughter wheezing. " but Yea, the light circuits sync right up with my biolights so it'll pulse and change colours"

Rodimus releases his interface panel which at the moment didn't have an attachment, he's rather swift with reattaching the chosen mod in its place. pressurises his lines, watching struts and panels adjust flawlessly around the new appendage. "Seamless integration. The connection anchors it securely while also transferring sensory feedback in real time." Rodimus smiles shyly. "Wanna touch it?." He teases revving his engine. 

"Ready for a test drive when you are, sweetspark. I'll go slow and you tell me what you think. Your feelings are my top priority here.” He excitedly remarks. "Can we keep the other pieces too, I think this would be something fun to try and test other pieces over time." Rodimus lights up at their question, excitement filling him. "A collection? I like the way you think!" 

"Now then, shall we?" He radiates eager anticipation, "I'm primed and ready to make you sing, sweetspark. Just give me the word." He slowly strokes the smaller mod as the sensation jolts through him. 

"Eager are we" they tease, It was strange seeing the new one when they were so used to Rodimus' original Spike but in truth it suited him well. "Sure thing hot shot. I want a show" they giggle sitting back eager to watch.

Carefully he braces himself before encircling the new modification digit rubbing across the tip. Slow, steady pumps elicit delightful shivers up his struts as sensory feedback loops. The lights along the spike light up in the deep orange colour and pulse with each stroke. 

A loud moan falls from his vocalizer. His engine purrs louder, Optics half-shuttering, Rodimus meets their gaze with a loving smirk. "Like what you see? gorgeous - just say the word and I'm yours all night."

They shake their heads in amusement. "I want to watch you work that spike Roddy, I like watching you come undone with your servo, dial up the sensitivity" they instruct. Eager to just watch the mech touch himself.

Rodimus chuckles. "As you wish." He begins stroking it much quicker, the sound of his joints popping and grinding join the mix of noises he makes.  "How's it feel?" Rodimus vented softly, digits exploring the synthetic spike's sensory net with increasing awe, he had never had one which felt like this and it was making his joints weak from how quickly it had over charged his system, hot air blasting through his fans.

 "Incredible... it feels so sensitive." Another moan slips from him sounding more like a whimpered whine of bliss. He gazed at his partner in a haze of affection. "Primus i cant wait to see how you feel clenched around my spike, bet you'll be so warm and soft. Might just be overloaded thinking about it."  

"You going to overload, thought you had better stamina roddy" They tease watching the way his plating shutters as he quickened his pace. Rodimus whimpers out while his voice goes rather static. "Hey, cut me some slack - this new array packs way more sensation than the old one. Gonna take some getting used to!" 

He overloads into his servo rather quickly. Their eyes focus on the fluid that runs down his servo, it wasn't the light pink one they were used to seeing come from him. “ Did you also change your fluids?” they hum moving closer to brush their hand against his spike. It makes Rodimus jolt as he loudly moans. “Frag!” he calls out platting, shuttering and overheating as he tries to come down from the overwhelming sensation. 

“mmmm, yea.. wanted something a little more body safe for you” he admits,it earns him a kiss from them. 

_________________

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[mollywog]

Prompt: Everlark…roleswap (you can pick and choose) OR Everlark sneaking around (and failing)

I hope it tickles something in your brain. Love your work <3

Thank you for the ask @atelierlili!!! This isn’t exactly what you asked for, but it was the thing that made the pieces fall together for this one-shot

Katniss opens her eyes to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. She quickly scans the room for signs of another inhabitant. Finding none, she still throws the sheet over her head for good measure.

The events of the prior night come flooding back to her. She had had a one night stand; and not just with anyone, but with Peeta Mellark. She had such a crush on him back in high school, though she doubts he even noticed her then. He had been busy with sports teams, clubs, and friends, while she was just trying to make it through.

But then last night she’d spied him across the bar and, encouraged by her roommate and a shot of tequila, she’d held his stare and smiled. He could have ignored her; the Hob was crowded with the Saturday rush, and as usual he was surrounded by a group of people, but he had made a point to seek her out. The alcohol may have helped in the beginning, but after two hours of steadily increasing flirtation, she was stone sober when she’d suggested they get-outta-here. Her body hums remembering the rest of the night. Regardless, now the thought of an awkward morning exchange is enough to have her almost regretting the whole thing… She sighs, tossing the sheets off her face. It isn’t going to get any easier the longer she waits, so she might as well get on with it.

But first she’ll need clothes.

She peers around the room but her shorts and tanktop are nowhere to be found. Cringing, she remembers how she’d pounced as soon as the door to his apartment had closed. Their clothes had been shed before they’d left the living room. She spots her bra and underwear at the end of the bed, but greeting Peeta like that feels obscene and draping herself in his bedsheets feels a bit dramatic, so she opts for a comfortable orange shirt she finds tossed over a chair.

She’ll just dash out and grab her clothes. Depending on where he is, he might not even realize she’s left the room before she’s safely back inside with yesterday’s outfit.

But all her plans fall to the wayside when she opens the door to the smell of coffee, warm cinnamon, and bacon. She moves towards the source like a cartoon mouse led by their nose at the scent of cheese. She'd be embarrassed if she weren’t so hungry.

“Hey,” Peeta smiles, turning from the counter to greet her then back to his bowl, but not before she catches his gaze lingering on her exposed legs below the hem of his shirt. She’s never thought herself particularly pretty, but Peeta’s hungry glance has her wondering if he sees something she doesn’t. She’d felt powerless to her crush back in the day; the feeling of longing that would creep up on her when she’d steal glances at him from across the lunch room, but maybe now the desire wasn’t so one sided.

Emboldened by the idea, she hops onto the counter next to him, “I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee person but I made enough for both of us. Or I can put on water for tea? Then there’s bacon and I have eggs - I can make them anyway you like, or I could do pancakes if you’d prefer that. And if none of that suits there are cinnamon rolls that will be ready any minute.”

“That’s not breakfast, that’s a buffet,” she says, selecting a strip of bacon from the plate and taking a bite. She watches him relax a degree as if he’d expected her to vanish if he hadn’t offered the right inducement. She supposes it’s not an unfair assumption, it was, after all, what she had planned to do not two minutes ago.

“I wanted to make you breakfast, but I realize I don’t know what you like. I might have gone overboard. I’ve never done this before.”

“What? Made a reasonable amount of breakfast?”

He laughs, “I meant slept with someone on a first date.” She looks away to hide her blush. “I think I could have gleaned enough information by our third or so date to have an idea of your breakfast preferences.”

“Date? Is that what we’re calling last night?”

“I’d prefer that to one night stand. First date makes it sound like the beginning. One night stand - like the end. I had a great time last night.” She rolls her eyes and he smirks as he continues, “that was great too, but I meant even before we left the bar… I like you Katniss. I always have, and I really don’t want this to be over.”

Always? Maybe she hadn’t been the only one carrying a torch all these years. He’s standing close enough for her to smell his body wash, something enticing but familiar, but they’re not touching and her skin is buzzing with the urge to connect them even in the most innocent way. Does she really want this to be over? “Okay,” she says after a beat.

“Okay?”

“First date it is”

He beams at her, sending warmth from her chest out to her limbs and she can’t contain her smile in return. A timer buzzes before she can consider leaning in to close the distance between them. Suddenly conscious of her morning breath, she hops off the counter excusing herself to the restroom.

She brushes her teeth with her finger and the paste on the counter before quickly rebraiding her hair and washing her face. She belatedly realizes she’s forgotten her clothes, but when she opens the door there are two sets of voices on the other side. She panics, freezing with the door ajar just a crack.

“I told you I wasn’t coming,” she hears Peeta say.

“And I told you that was unacceptable.” She’s never spoken to the woman, but she recognizes the voice right away: Peeta’s mother. The baker's wife has always been a notorious bitch, children still refer to her as ‘the Witch’ as they did when she was a kid.

She tries not to eavesdrop, she really does, but Mrs. Mellark’s voice carries, high and shrill. She doesn’t hear it all, but words like stupid, selfish, and inconsiderate can’t be ignored and enrage her. Who would think any such things of Peeta Mellark, let alone his own mother?

She watches his posture turn rigid as the woman berates him: You’d think he was missing his own father’s funeral rather than some weekly family engagement. His eyes flit towards the bathroom and catch her stare. She watches him sigh, deflating as if making a decision, “fine Mother. Just go to the car and give me a minute to get ready.”

It dawns on her what he’s doing; sacrificing himself so that she can sneak off and if his defeated appearance is any Indication, he doesn’t expect to see her ever again after this mortifying scene.

This will not do.

Katniss straightens her spine and flings the door open. With a confidence borne of righteous indignation, she marches over to Peeta, wraps her arms around his waist, and pops up to her toes to kiss him on the cheek, “I didn’t realize we were expecting guests. Did I hear something about brunch? I’m starving.”

“This is why you canceled?” Mrs. Mellark's contempt is obvious as she takes in her appearance.

“This is Katniss and no: I canceled because I don’t want to go, but if you do…” he turns towards her with a smirk.

Katniss muses that the olive toned legs beneath her son’s shirt is all the information Mrs. Mellark needs to make her judgment. “You cannot bring her. Not unless you want your grandmother to have a heart attack.”

“Good thing Katniss is a nurse.”

She hums, “though I did take an oath to do no harm. Seems a little reckless to attend with your grandmother in such a fragile state.”

Peeta shrugs, “fair point. Guess that settles it.”

“Maybe another day,” Katniss adds.

Mrs. Mellark looks between the pair before huffing and turning on her heels. The door slams and Katniss's feeling of satisfaction falters as she belatedly wonders if maybe Peeta might begrudge her the Ming vase his grandmother will certainly bequeath to his brother now. Suddenly ashamed at her performance, she can’t meet his eye as she asks, “is there anything I have to apologize for?”

She looks up at the sound of Peeta’s laughter. “Not a thing” he says before scooping her into an embrace. And as her lips seek his she’s glad she decided to brush her teeth

Read on Ao3

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Blood Contract

Hello! I got a gift! I am not obsessed with your AU of my AU at all :D

Okay so... I may have gone a bit overboard. As always. It is just a gift for my friend. It is theirs to do with whatever they want :D So if you @spotaus like stuff from it be free to see it as canon :D and use however you like <3

I tried not to go too far with world building or lore because, again, it is yours but i always sneak in little things :3 Hope you like it :D

*-----------------*

Nim looks up from her papers as she glances through the window of her carrage.

Ugh. It is always so slow.

Her powers and her magic hums in her. Burning hotter than the sun in the desert. Warming than a burning fire. So ready to do waht is needed. So ready for her to pick what she wants and how.

And this is still the weak version of it all.

She sighs as she leans back. She is getting older. Her weak body isn't able to handle the magic as well as she used to. Good thing that her heir is almost here.

Nim looks to the side and grabs one of her special magical orbs. She had a few made specially for this trip. She activates it with a touch and the orb shows her own personal healer.

The healer bows and waits after a respectful "My king."

Nim hums as she lounges back in her soft seat "How is my heir?"

The healer walks to the side and there is the one carrying her heir. The healer uses magic and speaks to her "Both of the twins are growing well and even. Neither of the souls seems to be progressing quicker than the other and both are almost fully grown. The chances of both twins being born healthy is getting near the 60% now!"

Nim feels herself smile as she purrs softly "Finally."Finally good news. It had taken a long time for her to finally have one of her many mates manage to carry her a heir. The risk of carrying twins rather large and most of the monsters dying before the twins had a chance to be born. taking her possible heir with them to be one with the stars.

One of her many mates looks up at the orb and looks at her "My liege! I am so excited to meet your children! Will you be back soon?" they look at her. hopeful and desperate. Nim knows there is full loyalty.

Nim just gives a smile "I will be back when I get back." This trip is very necessary.

After all. The one carrying the twins won't survive. The soullings will be too big for the carrying soul to handle or deliver safely. meaning the temporary mother will die soon after the twins birth. and Nim will take her rightful place as their mother.

But Nim is a very busy woman. Very busy and very powerful. She does not have the time to raise two children. One of which to the perfect sacrifice and the other as her perfect heir.

Which is why she is looking for the right person to take care of her heir.

She smiles as she remembers herself. the rush of power. the emotions running high. claiming what was rightfully hers and growing so much more powerful. Her first mate. There ready for her to finally claim as hers as they had always been.

Nim sighs wishfully. Such a shame they didn't live long. They had been perfect in every way. So handsome and kind. With her every step of the way. They had even managed to carry twins on the first try!

Only for them to die. Their soul burst when the soullings grew too large.

The soullings had survived.

She had killed them.

And she started over.

Attachments are a weakness waiting to be exploid.

But this time! This time! it will be perfect. her little heir will have the perfect little first mate. She will encourage her heir to have multiple mates. form a harem early on. the first one to start it off and keep track of it and the others to make possible heirs.

It will be perfect. Just like their kingdom.

The carriage stops and Nim leaves it. It is some poor useless town. Just useful to retrieve sacrifices from.

Or... to find someone who seemed promising. This better be worth her trip. the last four options had been lacking.

She walks through the town. Her guards behind her with her few items she picked for this. People see her and look away right away. they bow and do not make eye contact.

Good.

They are all beneath her.

She walks straight to the place she had found. She gets to a small shack of a place. seems like it is a small store for everyday needs. Most likely the only spot for this small town to get things.

She walks in.

There is a skeleton behind the counter who looks shocked before quickly bowing and muttering softly "My king. You honour us." another skeleton walks out of the back but quickly bows at the sight of her.

Fear in the air.

Nim holds up a hand "Rise." both skeletons rise as she looks around. the two adults. where is number three? "I am here for a very special quest. Everyone in the household is to come outside. This plac eis far beneath me." ugh. The very fact she had to step into this raggy run down mess of a store. selling cheap and second hand wares?

disgusting.

She leaves the store and walks out to the street. people are watching through the windows and a few remain by the edges of the road.

It takes only a moment before the first skeleton walks out. He stands before the store and kneels down on the ground and stays kneeled.

A few moments later the skeleton from behind the counter walks out. behind her walks a much smaller and younger skeleton. There he is.

She joins her husband and kneels as well. The younger skeleton moves to join his parents but Nim holds up a hand and snaps her finger.

The young skeleton freezes and stares at her for a moment before looking down adn mtutering "I... I... I will... kneel? sorry?" he keeps looking down adn shaking as fear hangs heavy around him. There is even more fear from the two skeletons already kneeling.

Nim walks over to the child and looks at him "How old are you?"

the child flinches but speaks "I am seven your highness..." and he stays silent.

Nim nods to herself. That is the right age after all! At least this time her sources were useful and correct. It is often a hit and miss if the sources turn out to be either of those.

Nim nods and looks at one of her guards "Bring me the seeing orb."

She ignores the fear around the skeletons. and how more fear joins their feelings from the people around them. They should be afraid. The only thing which lets them live as they are is her mercy. They should be thankful that they are even allowed to stay near her very presence.

The guard walks over and gives her the seeing orb. She aims it at the young skeleton and speaks "Who will he be if I choose him." And she stares into the orb.

It takes a moment. a few quick flashes. She sees her castle. Lessons. training. filling meals and-

oh?

Seems like this child will be an exceptional pretty skeleton.

Good. It would just be poor planning if she gave her heir an ugly first mate. she looks to the guards and nods before looking at the skeleton as she hands the orb back "What are you called?" Hopefully it is a good eough name. otherwise she will have to spend energy on thinking off a better one.

The skeleton shrinks futher in on himself but answers "My name is Ccino mister- i mean... my king..."

nim considers the name. Ccino is not a name you hear often. it is clearly not a royal name but it is rare enough to not be obvious as a commoner name...

Nim nods "You may keep that one." she naps her fingers "To the carriage."

Ccino looks confused but her guards walk over and grab him. He lets out a distressed chirp as he looks back to his parents "mom? Dad?!"

both skeletons had risen to their feet "Ccino?!"

The mother looks at her begging "please... please why are you taking ccino? we... we payedour taxes and gave most of the extra we earned! we swear we have prove and documents to proof this!"

The other skeleton tries to get to ccino but guards blcok him. Ccino is pushed into her carriage and the carriage is locked. Ccino looks through the window clearly panicked and with tears running down his face.

Nim slowly turns to the skeleton daring to speak to her "There is a very important position which he will be filling."

The skeleton trembles as she glares at Nim. Tears running down her face "That is my son!"

nim just watches the other. unimpressed and annoyed "Adn you are being hysterical. Then again." she snaps her fingers and the guards grab both adult skeletons "It is important that new servants know their place."

Nim slowly pulls out a contract she had put together. As long as the child is underaged his parents will be in charge of binding documents concerning him. She uses magic and the contract unrolls. Nim taps it ones and her own signature appears on it before letting a few of her own drops of blood fall on it.

Nim speaks calmly "You will sign this. and Ccino will be property of the royal family." she lets it fly closer to the held skeletons.

the female shakes her skull and struggles "No! Never!" The other skeleton is much the same.

Nim sighs as she raises a hand. She can't believe she has to use some of her actual powers for this. it is as if these idiots don't even see the oppertunity. that a future in the castle will be much brighter and perfect than whatever mess of a life he could have here.

both skeletons shudder as they slowly raise their hands.

"No! No! Please don't! Don't take our son! please!"

The begging is annoying and their desperation is hard to control.

See? This is exactly why she will make sure her heir is much stronger. Much much stronger.

The signatures appear on the paper and the guards raise both the parents hands above the contract. Nim watches as the guards cut both hands and blood drips unto it.

Sealing the deal and contract with magic and blood.

It rolls itself up and nim takes it as the skeletons sob and beg. She waves towards the building the both are moved into it before the door closes.

Nim watches the building for a moment before using a simple fire spell to set it ablaze.

The flames are mesmorising.

The screams and cries are annoying.

She watches until the fire dies down. she watches as the guards search the remains. Only returning with dust mixed with the ashes. No way to even know which is which.

She turns her back on the no longer existing building and walks towards her carriage. she enters it and takes a seat in her usual spot before turning her sight on the shaking ball of bones in the corner. Sobbing and crying loudly.

Nim speaks as they start moving "You will pull yourself together if you wish to be useful. I have no need for useless things."

Once he had the first few classes she will tell him what his role will be.

No need to explain to someone who may not even make it through the first week.

If he does however make it through? He will need lessons on how to care for children and all that comes with it.

But she has people for that. No need to get herself involved more than she needs.

She relaxes as she looks through the window. Enjoying the view.

What a perfect day in the perfect kingdom.

[marupunch]

Hello! May I please know what exactly are your thoughts on the craftsman and why you hate him so much? /genq

(I do agree with you but I want to know why so much hatred if you don't mind)

Don't worry and thank you for asking! Sorry this took so long but I wanted to deliver something complete and objective (I had to write this 3 times because the first one looked like a rant...)

Even though I don't like Craftsman, it's not like a "I hate the character" kind of hate, more like "I don't think he's a good person but I'll try to reflect that on my art instead of downright hating the whole character" kind of hate. There's actually some background on why I think like this so I'll try to be as objective as possible with my arguments to make my point clear.

Remember, this is just a personal opinion and it's okay if someone doesn't agree with me!

These are video game characters and we're all allowed to have different perspectives about them.

(...)

⚠️WARNING OF LOOOONG TEXT AND SPOILERS FOR ORIGAMI KING⚠️

It's important that we understand that Origami King is a game that relies a lot on Japanese culture to tell a story and that's why there's a lot of misunderstanding in the western part of the fandom about Olly and his character, motivations, etc. We must also understand that origami is a highly respected and important art form in Japan, therefore, its creation entails different guidelines rooted in the culture of this country.

Let's start with the most basic. According to the rules of this art, you are not supposed to write over origami. To be honest, you are not supposed to use any type of tool on origami other than the paper and your hands. I'm not saying that it is completely prohibited but this reduces the value of a work. See it as a form of "cheating."

Writing over origami gives an aspect of informality to your piece. And it greatly influenced how Olly perceived himself, since he took Craftsman's writing as something that reduced his value as origami and even ruined him, as a work of art.

In Japan, a very important aspect of society is how people perceive you, the image you give to those around you. Olly was supposed to be a king, immaculate and perfect, but he was tainted by the very creator of him. His image was ruined and his appearance became a symbol of shame.

Hence his fury towards his creator, which is more highlighted in the Japanese version of the game and is not hidden behind a joke of "All Toads are the same", as in the American version.

At the end of the game it is revealed to us that the message were words of encouragement and good wishes. But again, these are only visible once Olly is on the brink of death, as they were inaccessible in his normal state. They were good intentions, but they did a lot of damage, in the end.

It makes me wonder how the Origami craftsman, being someone who practiced this art every day, did not know such a basic rule. Or maybe he ignored it, but this also leads him to be a bit indifferent, since it doesn't seem like he had the implications of creating a life in general in mind, much less ruining an origami work.

Which also brings us to his motivations. In the game, Craftsman mentions, and I quote, "I don't get to celebrate my craft very often, so I might have gone a bit... overboard."

(Note: I'm the Spanish version, he says "Because people don't compliment my work very often." Yeah, that doesn't help my view of him.)

Although the general perception leaves us with a father-son relationship, Craftsman never refers to Olly as such, since from the beginning, he had created him as a craft, a way for people to praise his abilities, never having in mind a family or considering what responsibility it had to create a new life.

I think he never fully understood the concept of what it was to bring origami to life beyond them being talking dolls, a striking party trick, because also, seeing what Olly has done, he mentions to Olivia that he should never have used the Fold Of Life.

The reason she and Olly are alive in the first place. Even Olivia herself understands the implication of this comment, responding to her creator "Don't say that, I love being alive!".

It almost seems that for Craftsman, the Fold Of Life was just a creative choice about whether or not to put more detail into his creations. But for Olly and Olivia, that technique was their entire lives, literally. The choice of whether they existed or not.

Clearly until now there is a certain objectification on the part of Craftsman towards his creations, seeing them as just this instead of real children. And although there are vain attempts like the doodle on Olly or giving Olivia a weapon to defeat her brother, we can agree that they were not the most optimal tools to try to guide two children who he was supposed to protect. Not like his creations, but like his children. But so far everything is normal.

At least until the end.

Craftsman's first reaction upon seeing Olly's body is to appreciate the material with which he had made it. Yes, perhaps a bit of nostalgia in the creation of it, but ultimately it's a bit insensitive to mention that given that there is a life that has been taken, his son's life, again, showing the aforementioned objectification.

Even worse when, even if he's watching Olivia's expression, he congratulates her for "using the weapon he implemented in his design." At this point I'm trying to be objective, but this is a completely off-base comment. Not only does he not come close to comforting Olivia in a situation that is probably difficult for her, but he is too focused on what HE did to her that he barely does anything to support her beyond teaching her how to make a paper crane.

She just killed her own brother PLEASE just for once be a little emphatic

By the time the ending arrives, Mario seems much more affected by the loss of Olivia than Craftsman himself, who seems much happier for someone who should be mourning his creations.

I think that the scene in the Secret Ending is the closure of why I hate this character, because as I mentioned before, it dehumanized Olly and Olivia a little, treating them only as creations that served a purpose (making him gain recognition) only for them to end...

...being that. The key problem was never acknowledged, Olly and Olivia ended up being exactly what he wanted them to be.

As I mentioned before, this is my PERSONAL PERSPECTIVE about him. It's okay if people don't see him this way but the idea of Craftsman being this kinda insensitive and irresponsable parent makes a lot of sense to me. It just feels correct, specially after how Olly shows symptoms of trauma, like not wanting to see Craftsman's face again being the reason why he wants to get rid of all of the Toads, as mentioned on the Japanese version.

I'm not justifying Olly at all because I know he's wrong with a lot of things but the game tells you he's wrong. He gets his punishment and the whole character of Olly revolves around being a young, irrational king. On the other hand, the image the game gives you about Craftsman is a poor victim who didn't do anything wrong.

I think the worst part is that he never got a single punishment after this. Maybe being trapped in his basement but considering he was the one who started everything in first place, he doesn't seem guilty or even affected. I guess creating two gods, then having them both die in front of you it's just another day for Theofold.

TLDR; Craftsman is an irresponsable, insensitive and negligent father who traumatized Olly. Also a poop head. (?)

[pollenallergie]

Hello!! Can I request for a Billy Knight smut please? One where he has struggled to show affection and now that he's getting better he wants to touch you all the time. You'd let him, and one day when you're out of the shower and watching TV he randomly says that he wants to explore every part of you and you happily oblige because you love him. Please and thank you

of course!! thank you so much for this request!! sorry it's taken me so long to reply to it, but, well... i may have gone a lil overboard with my response. oopsies. also, i took quite a few creative liberties with this one, but i hope you still like it!!! <3

thank you so, so much to @hahahafucku and @punk-in-docs for beta-reading this!!! you're the best!!! <3

CW: pretty much just fluffy smut and some swearing, female ejaculation (squirting), billy gives the reader a massage (idk if anyone would find that triggering, but i'll include it just in case), the reader's gender is not specified but they do have stereotypically-female anatomy (boobs and a vagina…. dw i don’t call them that in the fic).

Word Count: about 8.8k

18+ only!!

side note: this is my first time writing smut in a longggg time, so pls be gentle lol

The evening starts like any other. You’re huddled up on the sofa, still in your work clothes, watching a nature documentary, images of seal pups adorably paddling about in the arctic waters flashing on the telly. At the same time, your boyfriend, Billy, is in the other room, changing into comfy clothes, having just gotten out of the shower mere moments ago. You figure you should probably have a shower as well now that he’s done, but you find it hard to leave your cosy spot on the sofa. It’s one of those nights where departing from the warm, cushiony furniture seems to be the most challenging feat known to man. 

Just as you’ve begun to summon the motivation to leave your comfy seat and fascinating documentary behind, your partner suddenly emerges from your shared bedroom wearing his favourite jumper and a pair of joggers. Billy wastes no time joining you on the sofa, immediately plopping down next to you and snuggling close. He curls his limbs round you like a vine as he clings to you and nuzzles his head into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The feeling of his cold, wettish hair against your otherwise warm skin sends a shiver up your spine. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to complain, not when he’s so openly showering you with affection, something he struggled to do early on in your relationship.

“Hey, Kill Bill,” you say, fondly giggling at his antics. Billy snorts at the eccentric moniker. 

“Hi, lovey,” he greets you in return. 

“You alright?” You ask, amusement evident in your tone, as he clings onto you tightly and nuzzles into you, clearly needing to be impossibly closer to you.

“Missed you today,” he whines petulantly, pouting as if you haven’t been home for hours now. He even goes so far as to briefly remove his face from its hiding spot to flash you an adorable pout. 

“I missed you too, handsome,” You admit, your tone tinted with amusement as you rake a hand through his soft, damp hair. The feeling of your fingers toying with his strands causes him to purr as he leans down to rest his head on your chest. 

“How was work?” Billy asks as he idly toys with the buttons on your blouse, always needing something to do with his hands. 

You heave out a massive, dramatic sigh, your chest deflating with the force of it, as you fix him with a pout of your own and pitifully reply, “Was absolutely exhausting, bub.”

“Yeah?” He asks, looking up at you with his big, brown doe eyes. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you after such a long day, but you think you can spot a little hopeful gleam in his gaze. 

“Yeah, my neck and shoulders are killing me from being hunched over at my desk all day,” you complain, shamelessly fishing for your boyfriend’s sympathetic affection. 

He offers a mere hum of acknowledgment as he nudges the collar of your blouse to the side so that he can place a warm, chaste kiss on the spot where your neck slopes down into your shoulder. “Think I know what could help with that,” Billy confesses softly, his tone hushed but, surprisingly, not the least bit bashful. 

“Yeah?” You ask, your breath catching in your throat as he trails kisses up towards your jaw, each kiss sloppier than the last. “What might that be?”

“Y’could let me touch you,” he huskily replies whilst continuing to smatter kisses across your flesh, “let me take care of you,” he adds finally, whispering the words into your ear before nuzzling his face back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

As incredibly enticing as that sounds, you’re a bit insecure about letting him pamper you in this state; still slightly sweaty from your walk home and completely knackered from a long day at work. You sigh and reluctantly tell him, “I can’t, babe, not right now. I’ve gotta shower.” 

Billy, however, seems entirely undeterred, continuing to lavish your neck with passionate kisses as he hoarsely replies, “Y’smell alright to me,” he then loudly, and a bit dramatically, sniffs you, as if proving his point, which causes you to let out an amused huff. 

Billy then pulls away to face you, fixing you with the softest, sweetest smile and the most adoring gaze you’ve ever seen. He places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose and murmurs, “I’ll help you shower when we’re done. Please, let me make you feel good, baby. Want to touch every part of my pretty petal.” 

The way he says that, with more than a hint of yearning, makes it seem like he intends to explore you, and the way his hands begin to roam your body seems to confirm your assumption. And, just like that, he’s won you over completely. You find yourself easily, willingly giving into your mutual desires once again. Though, you never really stood much of a chance at actually refusing him; you love and trust him too much to do anything but spoil him, especially since he has a habit of spoiling you too. 

You rake your hands through his damp hair again, gently scratching his scalp in a way that never fails to make him melt, inadvertently encouraging his amorous, wandering touches whilst you blissfully sigh, “Promise?”

Billy pulls away from your neck and meets your gaze, smiling softly, and nods his head in confirmation. He then stands abruptly, catching you off guard, before holding his hands out and smiling warmly at you, “C’mon, petal. Let me take care of you.” 

You look up at him with a playful pout and sigh, “I have to get up?” 

He nods, his soft smile widening into an amused grin, before leaning down to kiss your cheek and whisper into your ear, “I’ll make it worth your while.” You feel a shiver up your spine at that honest promise and, not trusting your own voice, you opt for simply reaching out to gently grasp his outstretched hands with your own in response.

Mere moments later, you find yourself sprawled out on your bed, lying on your back, completely naked, with your head resting in your boyfriend’s lap. Whether it was out of solidarity or simply to tease you, Billy has stripped off his clothes as well, enabling you to feel his stiffening cock pressing against the back of your head. Though, he makes no move to relieve himself, simply content with massaging your scalp as he looks down at you lovingly. 

���Close your eyes, darling,” he requests softly, as he moves his hands down to gently rub your temples, relieving the dull ache that’s formed there as a result of you unintentionally clenching your jaw throughout the workday. You sigh blissfully as you oblige, your eyes effortlessly fluttering shut. You feel your weight sink further into the plush mattress as Billy begins to massage your sore masseter muscles, relaxing you even further. 

“Feels good, love?” He asks, his tone soft and sweet. You opt for simply nodding wordlessly, too blissed out to respond verbally, making him chuckle breathily. 

Once your overworked cheek muscles have gone pliant and relaxed, Billy reaches for the massage oil, applying some to his hands. The massage oil took you by surprise when he first pulled it out of the top drawer in his nightstand, as you were previously unaware that he’d purchased it. The unbroken seal told you it was likely a recent purchase. The emboldened text reading ‘100% edible’ on the label revealed that his thoughts might not have been all that innocent when he bought it. Upon seeing the suggestive text, your mind began to conjure up lewd images of him licking the thin oil off various parts of your body, sending a rush of slick desire between your folds. That wetness now smears along the inside of your thighs as you clench them together, desperate for some relief. 

The massage oil smells vaguely earthy in a way that only enhances your relaxation as he moves his hands down to gently work the muscles in your neck and shoulders, eliciting another sigh from you, this one bordering on a moan and making his cock twitch beneath you. It’s oddly comforting to know that your suffering is mutual, that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him. 

Although, he seems relatively content to prolong your shared suffering as he moves on from your loosened neck and shoulder muscles, reaching down to gently grasp your dominant hand in both of his as he begins massaging the strained muscles there. You sigh in a way that betrays your mounting frustration, causing him to emit another breathy chuckle. 

“Be patient, petal,” he chides you gently, his tone a perfect mixture of amusement and fondness. 

“You said you wanted to touch me,” you huff. 

“I am touching you,” he softly replies whilst releasing one hand to massage the other. His response has you opening your eyes briefly to fix him with a half-hearted glare. 

“Let me take my time with you, please,” he pleads, as if he’s not the one in control here. 

“Alright,” you readily concede as he releases your other hand. 

Billy then begins to massage your arms, with his nimble hands working the muscles in each of them, starting at your wrists and gradually working up to your shoulders. You sigh contentedly as he effortlessly moves his oil-slick hands down to your chest; however, your tone soon gains a slightly exasperated edge when he pauses to sweetly ask, “May I touch you here, love?”

You usually appreciate that Billy always takes the time to ask you for your permission, that he constantly checks in with you to make sure you’re alright. However, right now, your impatient and incessant yearning makes it hard not to get annoyed with his constant pausing. 

“Billy, please,” you whine desperately, “you can touch me anywhere, everywhere; just please touch me.” 

Billy gulps around the lump forming in his throat due to your beautiful begging and swiftly succumbs to your pleading, gently grasping and kneading your breasts, finally offering you some relief. You moan softly when he briefly pauses his ministrations to toy with the stiff peaks of your nipples. As if they have a mind of their own, your thighs relax and fall apart as your hips buck upwards, desperately seeking friction. The cool air hitting your slick-covered folds makes you shiver. The subtle movement only makes the sight before Billy more enticing for him. He can’t help but let out a guttural groan at the sight of you all spread out and desperate for him, your hips bucking up needily, exposing more of yourself to him. Your eyes flutter open once more at the sweet sound, and you look up to find him staring at your sex, transfixed by the way your wetness glimmers in the dim light of the lamps on your nightstands. 

“Billy,” you call out softly. He looks down at you with wide eyes, his pupils blown out by lust, almost entirely overtaking his rich, chocolate-coloured irises. “Kiss me,” you plead, and, with urgency, he shifts slightly to a more comfortable position before leaning down to press his lips to yours. The kiss starts simple and sweet but soon devolves into something much more sloppy and desperate, with you both moaning into it softly. Despite getting readily swept up in the passion of the kiss, Billy doesn’t let it distract from his ultimate goal of making you feel good, continuing to knead the pliant fat of your tits all the while. 

“Please,” you whisper in between kisses. 

Although it’s only a single word, Billy knows precisely what you’re asking for and finds himself unable to deny you any further, not that he was ever really trying to in the first place. His hands slowly slip down your abdomen toward where you need his touch most. You shiver with delight as he rubs his hands down the length of your pussy before slowly dragging them back up, kneading the puffy lips that surround your folds and gently pushing them together, putting subtle, indirect pressure on your clit as he glides his hands upwards to your mound whilst maintaining his kneading strokes. 

The whine you let out in response is purely sinful, and the sound of it has him yearning to completely give in to you. Billy can only content himself to massage your sex for so long before he becomes powerless to stop himself from giving you what you desire most. You both blissfully sigh as he runs the tips of his right hand’s two middle fingers up your slit, collecting the wetness there. Billy then spreads your slick around your clit as he uses those same fingertips to rub tight circles on your tumescent bud, finally providing you with the stimulation you’ve been craving ever since he began trailing kisses on your neck whilst the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa. The swirling pressure on your clit has your hips jerking as you briefly break the kiss to let out a wanton moan. 

“Fuck, Billy,” you whimper needily as you roll your hips, grinding up into his gentle but firm touch. 

“You’re so good to me, love,” he whines breathlessly. The statement itself is sort of paradoxical, given that he’s the one pleasuring you; however, in your current blissed-out state, you fail to note the irony. 

As you roll and swivel your hips slowly, increasing the pressure on your clit, your pleasure suddenly increases tenfold when Billy begins using his free hand to lavish your tits with attention, alternating between kneading the fat and toying with the nipples of each one. 

“Love you, Billy,” you moan softly as you shift your gaze to look up at him in awe, finding him already gazing down at you with a look of profound adoration, the perfect mixture of reverence and affection. In Billy’s eyes, you are — and always have been — as close to a deity as a person can get, your grace rivaling that of even the most revered saints, prophets, and shamans, the compassion you show him outweighing that of anyone he’s ever known, even on your worst days. However, at this moment, with the way you’re calling out to him and baring yourself so vulnerably, your divinity becomes even more evident than before. And, if the sparkle in your eyes is any indication, Billy suspects that his adoration is amply reciprocated; the mere idea of that has a rosy blush spreading across the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks. 

“I love you too, baby, so much,” he softly replies whilst smoothing the hand that was previously teasing your breasts — his left hand — back down your torso, using the pads of his fingers to tease your folds once his hand reaches its desired destination. Meanwhile, the two middle fingers of his right hand pick up their pace, their pads swirling round your clit more swiftly than before. However, the pressure they’re applying to the engorged bud never wanes. 

Your moans grow louder and higher in pitch, conveying your neediness. Billy knows you need more, and he’s more than happy to give it to you. He teases your entrance with the tips of his left hand’s fingers before easing the middle one inside, causing you to mewl wantonly as your hips lift off the bed, forcing his thick finger deeper inside your wet heat. You reach up and grip his thighs, sure to leave behind the indents of your nails as you desperately cling to him, though Billy doesn’t really mind. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his pale skin provides him with a much stronger sensation than the pressure of your head still resting gently on his stiffening cock, allowing him to focus on that more intense sensation rather than the heavenly one in his lap. Billy then eases his ring finger in as well, curling both fingers just slightly so he can reach that magical place inside you — that special spot that never fails to make you cry out in pleasure — whilst he begins to thrust his fingers. At first, Billy sets a slow pace, wanting to ease you into your release, but his carnal desire to see you completely unravel soon takes over, leading him to work up to a pace that matches how he rubs your clit; fast and hard. 

Feeling the tips of his fingers stimulating your two most sensitive points, the internal and the external, has the coil in the pit of your belly wound tight, nearly ready to snap, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it. You opt to show your appreciation by turning your head to the side to press warm, wet kisses to the inside of one of Billy’s thighs, making his breath hitch in turn. 

“Love you so much, Billy. ‘M so close,” you babble mindlessly in between kisses. 

“I know, baby. Can feel you squeezing me,” he moans softly, the sound bordering on a whine, as he leans forward to press sweet kisses to your forehead and cheeks, “doing so good, love. Just need you to let go, baby. Please? Need you to cum f’me, yeah?”

You can only manage to nod in response, no longer able to get the words out as your pleasure mounts to impossible heights. Your whole body thrums with pleasure, muscles spasming and legs shaking as your climax nears. The sounds you’re making are truly divine, so melodic and alluring that they have poor Billy nearing his own release. He’s moments away from cumming in your pretty hair just from the sounds you’re making and the gentle pressure of your head resting on his crotch. Wanting to make you cum before he does, he begins to fuck his fingers into you with increased fervour, all whilst trying desperately to refrain from grinding his stubborn, needy cock against the back of your head. 

“Let go, petal. Cum for me,” Billy says, attempting to encourage you, though his voice can barely be heard over your loud, lewd moaning. His encouragement seems to work, nevertheless, as your back arches off the bed and the coil in your belly finally succumbs to the pressure and snaps, a rush of slick oozing out of your weeping hole when you cum. Billy works you through your orgasm deftly, prolonging your pleasure until you finally go limp, whimpering from overstimulation. 

As you descend from what seem to be clouds, from how high you felt, Billy continues to pamper and take care of you. He eases out from under you, gently placing a pillow under your head to compensate for the absence of his lap before moving down to slot himself between your legs. Billy applies some more massage oil to his hands before carefully grabbing one of your legs — still shaking and twitching from your forceful release — and lifting it to rest on his shoulder. He then begins to skillfully massage the overworked muscles of your calf, still sore from your walk home hours ago. The sensation of him gently kneading the knots out of your muscles has you moaning softly, and Billy melts at the sound. He deftly eases his slick hands up to your thigh, massaging the muscles there until they go lax under his touch, then moving down to rub the achy sole of your foot. The moan you let out at the feeling of his thumbs gently but firmly digging into the arch of your foot is nothing short of sinful. It has Billy’s stubborn cock throbbing, yearning for friction, for release. However, he refuses to succumb to temptation, too determined to see this through, to completely and properly care for his overworked, fatigued darling. If you were in your right mind, you might admire Billy’s surprisingly strong willpower, but you’re too far gone to notice anything other than the feeling of his hands on your skin and the loving look in his eyes. 

Gently, Billy returns your leg to its resting position, swapping it out for the other one so he can also knead the strained muscles there. Once again, he begins at your calf, easing the aches, before moving on to your quivering thigh muscles. Finally, he massages the sole of your other foot, firmly working out the knots there. Once your muscles have relaxed completely, he presses a chaste, warm kiss to both the arch of your foot and the spot underneath your ankle bone before gently setting your leg back down onto the mattress. 

“You alright, love?” He asks softly as he leans forward to smatter kisses across your chest, occasionally pausing to lap at your oil-slicked breasts. 

“Mhm,” you hum, “Yeah, ’m alright,” you reassure him with a blissful sigh whilst you reach down to toy with his slightly damp locks. 

“Was that good?” He questions somewhat bashfully. 

You hum your confirmation before responding verbally, “Was wonderful. You did so well, angel, made me feel so good.”

“Think you can roll over for me so I can get your back?” Billy inquires whilst pausing his ministrations to look up at you adoringly. 

“Billy, you don’t have to,” you trail off, feeling slightly guilty about how much he’s doting on you. 

“I know,” he replies simply as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Just want to.” 

“You’re far too good to me, baby,” you sigh dreamily. 

“Nah, ’m not. You deserve the whole world, dove. ‘M just giving you what I can,” he says sweetly whilst flashing you a kind smile that spreads a delightful warmth throughout your chest.

“Now quit stalling and roll over,” he says teasingly as he peers down at you with a faux annoyed glare. 

You huff, feigning exasperation. As you heed his request, the swell of your bum inadvertently brushes against Billy’s stiff cock, causing him to reflexively buck his hips, chasing the heavenly friction. He groans out hoarsely as he wills his hips to still. 

“That’s not fair,” he grumbles out gruffly as he shifts to straddle your hips, giving him ample access to the expanse of your back. You giggle at his pouty remark as you settle into your new position, your arms interlocked atop your pillow as you rest your head on them. Once you both have fully settled, Billy applies just a bit more massage oil to ensure his hands will easily glide along your skin. Then, he gets to work on massaging the sore muscles of your back. He starts with your neck and shoulders, alternating between kneading out the knots with the pads of his thumbs and his knuckles, depending on their severity. Billy then glides his hands down to your upper back, just past your shoulders, and begins to work out the kinks in the muscles there. If it weren’t for the feeling of his stubborn hard-on resting warmly on your bum and the way he subtly ruts into you occasionally, the experience would likely be purely wholesome. However, even with his attentive doting, his neediness bleeds through as much as your own, once again tainting the otherwise innocent endeavour with a hint of sensuality. 

By the time he reaches the lowest point of your back, you’ve both begun to emit soft moans and blissful sighs, the sweet, melodic sounds serving as relaxing background music. Once he’s finally finished kneading your back muscles into submission, you’re confident that Billy will finally give in to temptation and fuck you. When he nudges your legs apart and shifts downward to slot between them, you’re sure your partner is right where you want him, unable to resist you any longer. However, Billy surprises you when, rather than lining his cock up with your entrance, he simply lays down between your legs, propping himself up on his elbows as he begins to massage the backs of your thighs. You look back at him over your shoulder quizzically, making him giggle and smile impishly. 

“Told you I wanted to take my time with you, love,” he murmurs teasingly before leaning forward to trail kisses along the inside of your left thigh. Meanwhile, he glides his hands up to the plump fat of your arse. He starts kneading the flesh there, alternating between coasting his hands up, in an outward motion — spreading your round cheeks and exposing the most intimate parts of you to himself — and rubbing in a downwards motion, inadvertently pushing the globes of your arse back together as he squeezes the plush fat and sore muscles there. Billy would be entirely content to just lay there, watching in awe as the smooth skin of your rear, now shiny from the oil on his hands, submits to his firm touch. He’s always found it hard to pick his favourite part of you, given how wonderful every single part of you is. Still, if he was forced to choose, he’s sure his first instinct would be to choose your bum simply because of how voluptuous and lovely it is. It’s certainly not the plumpest he’s ever seen; the man did spend years looking at porn daily just to have something to do. Still, it’s his favourite, not just because it’s yours, though that certainly does sweeten the deal. It’s his favourite because of how beautiful it is, with its various dimples and stretch marks. He especially loves the lone freckle that resides on one of the plump globes, constantly calling out to him to place a kiss atop it. Once again, he finds himself powerless to refuse its call, leaning over with pursed lips to cover it in a warm smooch, making you giggle. Not to mention, the first time he had the pleasure of fucking you, he’d had to take you from behind due to the inconvenient location; a small guest bathroom in a mutual friend’s modest London flat. As a result, your arse has gained this sort of sentimental value in his eyes because whenever he sees it, it reminds him of the first time you’d met, the first time you’d had sex together, and, subsequently, the first time in all the twenty-six years of his life that his cock had felt the warm embrace of something other than his own hand. 

You’re well aware of his quirky fondness for your behind. Honestly, it has you worried that perhaps he might neglect to give either of you any lasting relief tonight, instead opting to lavish your bum with an inordinate amount of attention. It sounds silly, sure, but you wouldn’t put it past him to do precisely that. Of course, he wouldn’t do it out of malicious intent; instead, Billy would simply get so caught up with the absolute treasure that is your bum that he’d completely forget anything and everything else he was doing. 

Fortunately for you, however, Billy notices your anguish, fully aware of how your hips have begun to rut into the mattress, seeking relief in the form of friction, and decides to end your torment. So, he leans forward to lick a long strip across your slit, starting at your mound and ending at the tiny expanse of skin that separates your two holes, parting your folds with his tongue as he does so. The caress of his wet muscle has you reeling whilst you grip the pillow beneath you tightly and moan a wordless plea, begging for more. Ever the people pleaser, Billy happily obliges as he uses his hands to spread the globes of your arse apart, indirectly pulling your folds apart as well, diving in to lap eagerly at your sopping wet cunt. He starts off slow, lapping up your wetness gingerly, moaning as the heady flavour he loves so much dances across his taste buds. 

“Taste so good, love,” he moans wantonly, the sound muffled by your flesh, “so warm and wet and sweet. Pussy’s so sweet f’me, baby.” 

Billy’s babbling; he knows he is. Still, he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, not when your scent and taste overwhelm his senses, making him dizzy with lust. Yearning for more of your flavour, he eases his tongue inside your entrance, thrusting it in deeply as he curls it to lap at your walls, his wet muscle fighting against the strength of your clenching hole. He lets out the most sinfully saccharine moan you’ve ever heard whilst he devours you. 

“’S good, baby? Am I making you feel good?” Billy asks; he’s yearning for your approval, for your praise. 

“God- fuck- Billy, you’re so good. Making me feel so good,” you mewl as you ride his tongue, your hips bucking of their own accord. Your salacious praise has him whimpering into your snatch; the knowledge that he is the one making you feel like this, that he’s the one pleasing you, causes a prideful heat to bloom in his chest, rise through his throat, and spread all across his head, dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears in a rosy pink colour.

He removes his tongue, easing it out of your hole and swiftly replacing it with one of his thick fingers before you can even begin to complain about your newfound emptiness. With his tongue now freed, he murmurs, “Want you to cum again, love. Need to make you cum like this before I fuck you,” before latching onto your clit and fervently suckling at the engorged nub, bringing you more pleasure than any one of those fancy, rose-shaped clitoral stimulators ever could. Billy’s bold words have you mewling and whining pathetically, but, much like him, you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed. 

He adds another thick finger to your greedy hole, curling them both just slightly, just as you taught him to, and thrusting them deep. Unbeknownst to you, Billy’s become determined to make you unravel in a rare, special way; he wants you to soak him. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about your boyfriend over these past several months, it’s that he can be surprisingly tenacious when given the proper motivation. It just so happens that your ability to squirt, when given ample stimulation, is his new favourite motivator. 

With his free hand, he grasps your hip, encouraging you to continue rutting against his face. “That’s it, petal, there you go,” he praises you between the flicks and strokes of his tongue on your clit, “grind on my face ’til you cum.” 

His newfound confidence, along with the combined sensations of him lapping at your clit and fingering your cunt, has the coil in your belly again winding tight. Though, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t quite describe with words. Simply put, it feels more, more intense, more captivating, and undoubtedly more significant. You don’t often feel this all-consuming sensation, so it doesn’t take long to identify what it alludes to. Once you realise what’s happening, your eyes widen in shock, and your jaw drops to let out a moan so loud and lascivious that it nearly makes Billy cum all on its own. Luckily, he manages to stave off his premature release by rising to his knees, sitting on his haunches with his face still buried in your cunt as he lifts his hips off the mattress, robbing his needy cock of any friction. 

“Billy, fuck, fuck,” you gasp and pant breathlessly whilst your legs shake, the meat of your thighs jiggling with the motion, providing Billy with a stunning view in his peripherals. 

“Christ, Billy, please,” you whine as you look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in a lustful gaze. “Can’t- gonna make a mess,” you whimper pathetically.

He groans lowly at your words and the implication behind them. You meant them more as a warning, urging your lover to ease up before you soil the sheets with your release. However, Billy takes them as more of a promise, an incentive to keep going. 

“Make a mess of me, petal. Need you to soak me,” he encourages you, though his lilting tone makes it sound more like begging. Once again, you find yourself compelled to give in to Billy. How could you possibly deny the man you love something he desires so ardently? 

You moan wantonly whilst clutching your pillow so tightly that the skin of your knuckles goes three shades lighter than usual. “So close, baby,” you promise him, “gonna cum for you. Just need more.” 

You don’t specify what you need more of, yet Billy gets the point anyways. He latches onto your clit once more, swirling his tongue round it in tight circles as he sucks on it. Occasionally, his teeth scrape against your nub so gently that it only heightens your pleasure. However, the actual source of your unraveling comes in the form of him finally giving in to his innermost desires and gently nipping at your sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure, with a deliciously minimal hint of pain, coursing through you. 

The profound sensation has a rush of fluid squirting out of your cunt, soaking the sheets beneath you as you practically scream out of pleasure. Meanwhile, Billy watches in awe whilst he works you through your powerful release. This is only the second time he’s made you squirt in the entire history of your relationship. The sight of it has a mixture of pride and wonderment swelling in his chest, especially since he didn’t need the aid of a toy to make it happen this time. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop ravishing your spasming sex, until you finally reach down and gently push him away, the constant stimulation becoming too much for you to bear. 

You both pant feverishly, finally able to catch your breath in the stillness afforded by your brief refractory period. Billy massages the backs of your thighs, easing the tension there as he sits back on his haunches and looks down in awe at the mess he’s made of you and, consequently, of your bed. 

“I love you,” He murmurs whilst leaning forward to trail warm kisses up your back, following the barely pronounced ridges of your spine. 

“Love you too, Billygoat,” you slur out dopily, drunk on the pleasure he’s given you. Billy giggles, truly giggles, both at your silly nickname for him and at the blissed-out tone in which you utter it. 

“D’you want to be done for the night? Or d’you think you can handle some more?” He asks you, sweetly checking in with you like he always does. 

You look at him like he’s grown a second head and reply, “Are you joking? ‘Course, I want more.” Your bewildered tone has him giggling all over again. You can’t help but marvel at the way the slight pudge of his tummy adorably quivers as he laughs. There was a time when that little bit of chub didn’t exist, back when he wasn’t eating well, back when you’d first met him, and though you’d loved him all the same without it, you can’t help but prefer this new, fuller form of his. He looks healthy like this — well fed and cared for — and, in the most perverted-yet-still-somewhat-wholesome way possible, it drives you mad. 

“Billy,” you softly call out to him, causing his giggles to wane. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Wanna try something I read about,” you confess somewhat shyly. 

He leans over to kiss your cheek before nuzzling into the space between your shoulder blades. “What’s that, lovey?” He murmurs.

“Put a pillow under my pelvis? Please?” You ask in an adorably polite tone. 

Billy grins impishly, knowing precisely what you’re after, having seen that trick in some of the pornos he used to watch. He wordlessly heeds your request, grabbing one of the plush pillows from his side of the bed, gently lifting your hips, and surprising you with such a casual display of strength as he slots the pillow under your pelvis, causing your hips to angle upwards just slightly. 

Billy breathes a dreamy sigh at the sight of you, all spread out and waiting for him. In times like this, he can hardly believe you’re real, that you’re actually here with him, that you actually want him. However, the way you’re gazing at him right now, peering at him over your shoulder with a look of tender adoration, quickly assuages his doubts. You’re real, you truly are here with Billy, you love him just as much as he loves you, and you want this just as much as he does; all he has to do is take it, take you. 

Billy smooths his palms along the soft flesh of your hips as he softly asks, “condom or no condom?” 

It’s a reasonable question to ask. The two of you have only made love without a condom a couple of times before, once on his birthday, once on yours. Of course, both of you would like to forgo condoms indefinitely. However, you’ve been known to forget to take your pill occasionally. So, since neither of you really wants a kid right now, you two continue to use them regularly, just to be safe. But you’ve been exceedingly good lately, not forgetting to take your pill at all these last two months, and you can’t help but think you deserve a reward for all your effort. 

“No condom. Wanna feel you, Billy,” you reply in a whiny, pleading tone that has Billy’s eyes rolling back. Who is he to refuse such a good, pretty little thing like yourself? 

He gently rubs his tip along your slit, briefly bumping into your hypersensitive clit, causing you to mewl and squirm needily. Billy’s quick to oblige your wordless pleas, gently easing the head of his cock inside your entrance; it slides in almost effortlessly, thanks to your previous orgasms. The sigh Billy lets out as he slowly slides into you, feeling your warm, wet walls welcome him in, is shaky and breathless. He smooths an oil-slicked hand up the length of your spine as he gradually bottoms out, leisurely giving you inch-by-inch of his shaft as if he’s simply content to continue taking his precious time with you.

Really, though, Billy’s fighting the urge to fill you up all at once with one quick snap of his hips; to take what he needs from you. The muscles of hips and thighs twitch as he restrains himself, using every ounce of willpower to keep himself from fucking you brutishly, pile-driving you into the mattress. He wants to take things slow, needs to take things slow, or else this will all be over far too soon, and all that build-up will amount to minimal payoff. Billy can’t have that; he refuses to give you anything less than his best. This is his opportunity to take care of you, to provide you with what you need, and he won’t take it for granted, not after all you’ve done to care for him. 

When Billy finally bottoms out inside your slick, still-spasming cunt, the two of you let out synchronous moans, both so high-pitched and needy that they could almost be considered whimpers. The feeling of your pulsing, silky walls gripping him so tightly is nearly enough to send him over the edge. So, to make this last, Billy has to hold himself back once again; he has to give himself time to acclimate to the overwhelming feeling. He leans forward, his chest presses against your back, whilst he presses warm, sloppy kisses to every part of you that lies within his reach: your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, all of it. Meanwhile, he murmurs soft, sweet praises to you. 

“Feels good, love. You always feel so good.”

“God, I can - fuck - I can feel you, feel your pussy fluttering round my cock.”

“You look so beautiful, baby. My pretty petal always looks so lovely f’me.”

Each one has you whimpering softly, has butterflies fluttering in your tummy, and has your walls clenching around him greedily. Billy’s only digging his own grave, making you grip him like that. It’s nearly enough to make him cum, but, fuck, he can’t stop; you deserve to know how good you are and to be worshipped like this. 

“Billy, please,” you mewl desperately, rocking your hips slightly to encourage him to move. 

“I know, baby,” he coos reassuringly, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek whilst he rests his forehead gently against your temple. “I’ve got you, love,” Billy promises as he slowly begins to roll his hips, thrusting his cock inside your wet heat, “‘M gonna make it so good for you, petal, I promise.” 

“’S already good, angel, ’s already so good,” you mewl, equal parts desire and reassurance. 

The feeling of his shaft dragging along your walls with each thrust, of his tip hitting that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl, of his heavy balls colliding with your tumescent, tingling clit, is enough to send you into overdrive. Yet it’s still, somehow, not enough; you need more. 

“Billy,” you whine pathetically whilst looking back at him with an adorable pout, the kind that you know he can’t resist. As always, the petulant expression has him caving instantly as he leans forward, capturing your lips with his own in a passionate kiss; however, it’s a bit sloppy due to the awkward angle. 

“What d’you need from me, love?” Billy murmurs against your lips, his soft, low tone making you melt. 

“Need you to fuck me harder, Billy,” you plead pitifully.

Whatever Billy was expecting you to say, it certainly wasn’t that. Your boldness catches him off guard, has him throwing his head back with a loud, lewd moan. As much as he wants to take things slow, to memorize the feeling of your walls gripping him whilst he makes love to you, he’s powerless to deny you. You’ve bewitched him, beguiled him to the point where he’ll give you anything, do anything for you; all you need to do is ask. You have Billy wrapped around your finger; he’s utterly devoted to you and irrevocably yours. He even tells you as much as he pulls away, sitting up on his knees and firmly grasping your hips, pulling you back on his cock as he begins to pound into you just the way you want him to. 

“Love you so much. God- fuck- I love you so much, petal,” he rasps. 

The force of his thrusts swiftly turns those melodic, lilting moans you love so much into the deep, somewhat raspy grunts that never fail to drive you mad. The sound of skin slapping against skin as his pelvis repeatedly collides with the globes of your arse fills the room, along with the wet, smacking noises made by his cock driving into your slick heat and the dull thump of your headboard hitting the wall. It’s a chorus of sweet, blissful depravity that only increases Billy’s newfound fervour. 

“Fuck, baby,” Billy groans deeply whilst reaching round one of your hips to play with your sensitive little bud, swirling the tips of his fingers on it in tight, fast circles, “Wanna live inside this pretty little pussy. ’S always so warm ‘n wet for me.” 

You simply mewl in response, too far gone, too fucked out to form any coherent response. Billy’s usually vocal in bed, unable to stifle his loud moans and whines, but he’s rarely so brazenly talkative. He’s usually more unsure, constantly checking in and making sure he’s doing a good job. So, it’s always a treat when he gets like this; confident, daring, and maybe even a little cocky. 

When you look back at him over your shoulder, you spot his tongue curled up against his upper lip, a telltale sign of the effort he’s putting into fucking you hard. Were it anyone else, you might giggle at the way their tongue can’t seem to stay in their mouth, but with him, coupled with the sweaty glaze he’s coated in and the way his muscles flex as he drives his cock into you, it seems to only add to the appeal. Billy’s brutish grunts fill the room as he fucks you, and you find that you love the uncharacteristically deep, raspy sounds emitting from him just as much as his dulcet moans.

“God, Billy,” you mewl pitifully. 

“’S good? You like it when I fuck you hard, petal?” Billy asks as he leans forward to press a sloppy kiss to your shoulder. 

Your mouth falls open with a loud, lascivious moan as you nod meekly. At the same time, your legs begin to shake as the coil in your stomach winds tightly for the last time tonight; your climax approaching swiftly. Billy can tell, can feel how close you are in the way your tight heat clenches around him, like your walls are trying to milk his cock. Your pussy has his thick cock locked in a vice grip, one that he has to fight against the force of as he continues to pump into you, and the feeling of it sends him hurtling toward his own peak. 

“‘M so close, dove,” Billy warns you, his grunts morphing back into his desperate, lilting moans as his pleasure mounts.

He leans forward to lavish your neck with kisses, moaning wantonly in your ear whilst continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it; like the only thing he needs in this world is to feel your greedy sex pulsing around his cock. 

“You gonna cum with me, baby? Need you to cum with me, love,” Billy pleads, fucking into you fervently as he groans lowly. 

You whimper as you look back at him and nod. He offers you a soft, encouraging smile that doesn’t quite match the lechery of this moment but warms your heart all the same. The warmth blooming in your chest seems to grow more prominent when Billy presses a tender kiss to your shoulder and another to the crown of your head. 

“Doing so good f’me, love. Taking my cock so well. ’S like it was made f’you, made to fill your- fuck- your sweet pussy,” Billy praises you in between his wanton moaning. 

“It was,” you whimper pathetically, “it’s mine. ’S just for me.” 

Your possessiveness never fails to make Billy melt. However, it is a bit unnecessary; Billy’s been yours, solely yours, ever since you first spoke to him. You’d found him cowering in a corner at a mutual friend’s party, the same one he’d fucked you at later on in the night, and made it your mission to get him to open up to you, to get him to have some fun. If the nearly ten months you’ve been together are anything to show for it, your unspoken mission was obviously a smashing success. 

“That's right, baby. ’S just for you, only for you,” he cuts himself off with a needy groan, “It’s yours, love. I’m yours.” 

“I love you, Billy,” you moan weakly. It’s the only warning you give before you cum, the coil in your belly finally snapping as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you, making your muscles twitch whilst a loud, lewd wail of pleasure tumble past your parted lips. The incessant clenching of your walls has the fluids of your release gushing forcefully out of your sex, coating you and Billy’s thighs in a warm, glossy sheen. That same clenching of your sex is also what leads to his own unraveling. 

Billy’s head rests between your shoulder blades whilst he lets out a series of wet moans and pornographic whimpers, his orgasm hitting him abruptly and intensely. His hips stutter as he pumps his throbbing cock inside you, shooting rope after rope of cum into your fluttering cunt; however, they finally still when the sensation becomes too much for him. Billy collapses on top of you, careful not to put too much weight on you, as he lets your spasming walls milk him dry, painting them with the last of his release as he fills you to the brim. 

The two of you remain like that, still tangled up in each other and unmoving, whilst coming down from your mutual highs, both of you fighting to catch your breaths. It isn’t until Billy begins smattering needy kisses along your neck and shoulders that you start to stir, wanting to roll over so you can kiss his handsome face. He takes the hint, removing the pillow from under your pelvis and easing his softening cock out of your cunt. The sudden movement makes you both hiss, each far too sensitive for such stimulation, but it’s over soon. Of course, even with your hypersensitivity, you whine at the loss of Billy’s cock, missing the feeling of fullness that only he can provide. Your petulance makes Billy chuckle whilst he helps you roll over, knowing you’re too worn out to manage that feat on your own. 

You sigh blissfully once you’re face-to-face with Billy again. His beautiful brown eyes, not unlike those of a young calf, gaze down at you adoringly, making you beam up at him happily. 

“Hi, handsome,” you greet him softly as you reach up to run your fingers through his light brown hair, still tinted with strawberry blonde highlights from the summer sun, though it’s been months since anyone around here saw that flighty sun. 

Billy giggles at your hazy silliness whilst he replies, “Hi, petal.” 

“Kiss me?” You ask simply, your tone soft and sugary sweet. 

“I’d be honoured,” he murmurs teasingly before leaning down to capture your lips in a languid embrace. The kiss is so tender and saccharine that you both moan softly into it. You part your lips for Billy, letting him deepen the kiss as you wrap your arms and legs round him, encouraging him to fully rest his weight on you. He’s like your own personal weighted blanket. Interestingly, you’d previously never really understood the appeal of weighted blankets, believing them to be suffocating and restrictive, at least not until you cuddled with Billy for the first time and realized how delightful it can be to have such a warm, soft weight pressing against you, holding you down and keeping you safe from the outside world. 

Unfortunately, the feeling of the soaked sheets clinging to your skin soon pulls you out of your blissful state. You groan as you reluctantly break away from Billy’s kiss. 

“We gotta get up and change these sheets, Billygoat; feels icky,” you inform him with your face pulled into a tight grimace, clearly conveying your discomfort. 

“Yeah,” Billy groans in agreement as he pulls away from you, rising up to sit back on his haunches as he peers down at you with a wry smile. 

“We’ve gotta get you in the shower, too,” he reminds you whilst he climbs out of bed, coming to stand on his slightly unsteady legs. He then turns to face the bed again, looking down at you. 

“I lied to you earlier,” Billy says, continuing his previous line of thought, “You reek, babe.”

The gasp you let out in response to his remark is wholly indignant, aptly conveying your faux offense as you launch a stray pillow at him. It thwacks Billy in the chest, making him drop his deadpan façade as he bursts into giggles. 

You climb out of bed on your own shaky legs as you playfully threaten, “You’re gonna be so sorry for that, Billy Knight!” 

“Dove, I was kidding!” Billy shrieks giddily whilst making a break for it, running out of the room with you not far behind him, still giggling as he attempts to evade whatever playful punishment you have in store for him. He manages to put some distance between the two of you when he wisely fakes you out, making it look like he’s going to turn into the bathroom before running off in the opposite direction, towards the kitchen. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Billiam!” You huff out, doing your best to stifle your own giggles. Billy’s laughing increases tenfold at the sound of the odd little nickname you’ve given him. 

Billy’s giggles subside as he suddenly pokes his head round the corner and into the hall, fixing you with a genuinely fond smile, catching you off guard. 

You halt in place as Billy softly says, “I love you too, petal.” 

God, he is unreasonably adorable. 

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putting symbols at the end so hopefully tumblr won't cut off the last paragraph!!

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<3

[gatitties]

Hey, just so you know I love what you did with the straw x male reader and I know this may be sudden but you think you can do a part 2 of it? And if you want, I can put in some of the details if you want? (Warning: This is too long) like let's say this theme is more so focused on reader's past and I will say that his backstory similar to movie sonic where his mother is actually a giant owl who had eaten a human human fruit and Is very knowledgeable with all kinda of devil fruits (She even has collections of them) but of course, like some tragic things that happened to some characters. Both reader and his mother were being raided by people who secretly worked for the world government and because of it, the mother owl had no choice but to sacrifice herself in order to let reader escape (Similar to Nico robin and what happened in Ohara) and in the end, their home got burned down and all reader could do is run away and hide. Anyways back to present, after hearing from an unknown caller that his mother was alive. He didn't believe it at first until there are just way too many evidences that his mother might be still alive after what happened and not only that but finding out how she's secretly working for the world government, it was just absurd to him. Is this the reason why they want him alive? He's not sure anymore. In the end, he decided that it would be best to never tell the crew about it and would just have to go out of his way on his own to find the location where his mother was at. And by the time, straw hats find out that they were too late and reader is already ahead of them. (Also of course, you're free to Refuse this request at any time but if you're still gonna do it then you can do it anytime K? No rush, and It's your decision to do so.)

─ Strawhats x male!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: you discover things about your supposedly dead mother and the crew is willing to help you

─ Warnings: none

Part one / Part three

ahhh don't worry about asking for the second part suddenly, I'm glad you like my work, hope you like this <3

─ You were probably adopted (maybe not, but you never wanted to ask), your mother was a giant owl that ate the human-human fruit, but you don't care where you come from, you always loved your mother.

─ A little curious fact is that she is a collector of devil fruits, which caused you some problems because people are greedy with treasures like that, but the thing is that you got your powers because of that very collection.

─ You were just a child when you were snooping through her things and that devil fruit looked tasty, you were disappointed with the taste and on top of that your mother scolded you for that, but there was nothing that could reverse the effects.

─ Normally you had to change houses continuously, the government and some people wanted the devil fruits that your mother collected, as if that were not enough, they also wanted you as an experiment subject since your fruit was quite powerful or sought after.

─ And one day what you were fearing simply happened, the government found you, worst of all, your mother sacrificed herself for you to flee, you couldn't do anything and you began to hate the government more than before, they had taken a being loved without regrets.

─ After that you wandered aimlessly, many newspapers had the exclusive that they had caught the 'evil' thief of devil fruits and were going to make her pay for her sins, your whole world collapsed when a week later, word spread that she had died and they had put up a wanted poster only alive with your face.

─ Your life began to fall apart but luckily, before your intrusive thoughts could do anything, you met Luffy… well, Usopp in the first place, but the important thing was that the strawhats took you in after your life was gone overboard.

─ You started noticing some small clues about your mother inadvertently since Luffy declared war on the world government when they rescued Robin, since then you were much more involved with them.

─ Within you there was that little ray of hope, maybe they didn't kill your mother, maybe she is captive due to her knowledge about the devil fruits, that's why you began to investigate further, following small clues.

─ You kept all this hidden from the others because you thought it was something you had to solve on your own, although Robin was already suspicious about you, you always went to her when you needed more detailed information about the government.

─ "Why so curious now about this?" "For nothing in particular, I like to find out about the people I hate so I can hit them harder." It's not like it was a lie itself, you wanted to hit those bastard governors.

─ You had a small diary where you had everything collected in the last months, luckily they respected your private things, although they thought that all your secrecy was because you were young and you were embarrassed to share some things with them.

─ "Why do you always hide that book of yours when you see us, huh? Don't tell me, it's a diary and you write about your lover there!" "I-It's nothing like that Luffy!" Luffy would always try to tease you and play jokes on you however Sanji or Zoro would always stop him if he got too close to stealing your diary.

─ What made you jump into the attack was a call in which you interfered one night, a call that turned all your suspicions into solid facts, "Yes, my son is the consumer of that fruit, we could locate him if the rumors about that is next to the strawhats are true" "m-mom…?" Luckily they couldn't hear the disbelief in your voice as you heard your mother's clear voice.

─ You were extremely confused as to why she would be part of the government, deeply hurt by the fact that they were looking for you, and not especially to give you hugs.

─ Everyone on the ship noticed your change after you discovered that, you started to talk less to investigate more, you became more paranoid and you started to put a barrier between them and you, you didn't need to cause them more problems than they already had.

─ But your plan to do everything on your own went awry, you tried to deal with some undercover guys who worked for the government on an island, you were seriously injured, if it wasn't because Usopp found your diary and decided to browse a bit ( because this guy couldn't contain himself and thought one look wouldn't hurt anyone) you'd probably be dead by now.

─ While Chopper treated you in a fit of stress, the others looked at your wounded body with a frown, most of them angry for not being able to arrive earlier, Luffy angry with you for not having told him anything.

─ When you recovered he scolded you because you didn't trust them to help you, "Idiot, we are here for you! You are my nakama and I would do anything for you." "I'm sorry…"

─ You apologized to everyone for being so reckless and going alone to a fight you couldn't win, they forgave you and just like Luffy, each one showed in their own way that you didn't need to have that fight by yourself, if you needed their support, there they going to be, even if they had to fight against your own mother, they would not abandon you.

[walnutofthedead]

Can you do Yandere Mikoto x Gn! Reader headcanons?

Hahaha hah djbdhddhhdhd

The ask I’ve been waiting for frfr….

I’m so normal about yanderes (they’re fun to write leave me alone)

So uhm I MAY go a wee bit overboard here??? And May or may not have ended up doing the yan alphabet?? This is for Mikoto and not his alter, if you want an orekoto one just lmk <3

Prob will do a shortfic later

Yandere shit under the cut

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I see Mikoto as a physical affection type of guy tbh- Like, he’s still really sweet! Always nice with his words, but he’ll like randomly hug you from behind, hold your hand, a lot of things that most regular couples do. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Well… in terms of like, actual messes, he tries to be clean! Mikoto doesn’t particularly even want to hurt anybody. He’s not ALL bad…

With that said, sometimes, he has to. If someone is trying to steal you away and doesn’t heed his warnings, or if they hurt you, he has no choice but to put an end to that! 

If someone hurts you, he’ll be more brutal.. not above torturing them if they’ve gone that far. 

If it’s because he’s jealous, he’s a bit more nice. He doesn’t make it too painful. Maybe a blow to the head, a fast-acting poison… 

After all, he can’t blame them for falling for you just like he did! It’s impossible not to~

They just don’t get to take you away from him. Never. 

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Nono! He’s a sweetie:c Mikoto honestly would just treat you with genuine respect and love,, be like, he loves you! He knows he’s already done something awful by abducting you and is sympathetic. Prob tries to make it as comfortable as possible. 

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Well… he’s definitely do a lot of hugging and stuff like that… but the furthest he’d go without (implied or direct) consent is just a peck on the lips<3

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

So here’s the thing- he’s delusional as fuck. He’ll just treat your relationship like he’d treat any regular one. He’s never invulnerable around you, but there’s definitely times he’s more vulnerable. Don’t hurt him please the silly:(

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

So confused and betrayed. You love him, so why are you fighting him? He only wants what’s best for you! 

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He takes this shit so seriously- istfg bro hates it when you try and escape :((( kind of a pushover tbh- like he’ll probably just try and make it even more comfortable for you whenever you try to leave. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being abducted is the worst it’ll get. Even while captive, he treats you with such care it’s baffling- he loves you!!!! Cmon pooks love him back ong

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

I feel like he daydreams about marrying them… like he has it all planned to a T. Probably already designed an outfit for s/o to wear at their wedding. We love a ✨ prepared ✨ mans 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets jealous and inhales lethal amounts of Copium. The poor silly

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Nah bro just acts like his normal self but like,, slightly more happy???   

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Just approaching regularly, he has no issue going up and talking to them! When confessions are involved though, he has a much harder time… probably would opt for a love letter. A long, well-written one with little doodles on it !!

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Lmao nope

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He kinda just.. wouldn’t..? If he got really pissed somehow, he might like, lock them in their room or something… but he avoids using violence when possible. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not many! When he abducts them, he’s strict at first, but eventually even lets them go out so long as he’s there with them. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He’s incredibly patient. He doesn’t get angry very easily, and when he does, he calms down fairly quick. This is assuming he doesn’t switch to Orekoto, of course…

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Haha no

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Oh, absolutely. He’d feel like actual shit about it. Even with all the gaslighting himself to try and justify it, he knows taking someone captive like this is awful. And especially for such selfish reasons… that’s why he tries making it up to them by spoiling them! 

He won’t let them go though. There’s no going back once you kidnap someone. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Hm……. I’d say probably just emotional dependency and bad attachment issues. He just happened to get a bit too attached to s/o. 

-bonus hc: he gives his friends nicknames to make it feel like they have a deeper friendship than they do so they don’t drift away from him ! 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Oh, he hates it- just seeing them sad or afraid breaks his heart. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just tries his best to comfort them with words. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Give his darling some MOTHERFUCKING FREEDOM-

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His willingness to trust. As I mentioned earlier, he gives a lot of freedom, and that only increases as his trust in them builds. Once he’s convinced they do, in fact, love him, and won’t try and leave, he’ll begin letting them go out alone for short periods of time so long as they let him track their location. You can already see how that could turn out in an unsatisfactory way for him…

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Nope. Or at least, it would take a lot for him to lash out and do so. And even then, it wouldn’t be that bad. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He doesn’t really worship them per se… but he will totally go to extreme lengths to win them over. No amount of time or money or effort is too much if it means a chance at winning his darling over <3

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Depending on outside factors like other people pursuing them, it could be anywhere between a few months and a couple years. 

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Haha no. 

[dipolardruid]

Hi, love your content <3

you know how Betra’s biological child died along with her former husband? Well, what would happen if the child was alive this entire time, and many years later Betra finds out?

Hi, I'm glad you enjoy it makes my day! I may have gone a little overboard in this, I actually had to erase many things to shorten it if not it would have been way too long.

TW: Slight Angst maybe more can really say, Mention of love bombing.

Is in complete shock and denial, how could her child be alive and her not know about it, The authorities would have let her known.

There is no way, it's a mistake, she will refuse to believe it. She saw as they were buried, If anything she should have been the first to be notified. So she will deny and fight it until it is impossible to keep denying it as she sees her child right infront of her proof and all.

She'll go blank before everything will go black she is so so angry, she missed out on so much, milestones, graduations, dating life, heartbreaks.

she will do everything in her power to figure out who screwed up so badly to the point of completely failing to have her know, Intentionial or not.

In that time she will immediately start spending more time with her bio-kid, trying to catch up on everything she's missed she'll be so happy.

Even your father will be a little shocked since her appearance will have a lot more color to her complexion but he understands he would also feel the same way if he were in her position.

What he will worry about is you though, if you had indifference or dislike for her and showed to not be bothered by what's happening he will feel a little better maybe even glad since he already knows what's the outcome with her already pulling away even from him.

Now if you had a really good relationship with her now he will really begin to worry, He'll feel extremely guilty since he pushed her onto you only for you to end up being hurt, He hates how you seem to be left out of many things now, how she will even begin to cancel outings even start to pull away from you. Leaving you to be completely heartbroken.

Your father of course understands and will comfort you while also giving Betra time but after the third month he'll start bringing it up subtly.

If it doesn't work he will confront her about the treatment, It would help in the short term but even through out that she'll seem very distant from you almost as if her mind was somewhere else, in the end you'd be left feeling hollow at this.

If it gets so bad that now it has started to affect your daily life he'll leave Betra without a second thought even if she tries to fix things between you and your father he saw how easily she tossed you aside.

While he understands believe him he really does when it comes to Betra's situation he also has you to look after and protect emotionally and physically.

So he'd give her more time to spend with her bio-kid. Any parent would after learning their child is actually alive but even then he would have also liked if she also involved you a little more and treated you the same way she used to.

Not begin ignoring and neglecting you in the process, He'd feel so bad and guilty at what is happening that if Betra doesn't at least give you some of her time he will carry out the divorce.

He'd go No contact with her and decide whatever you do he'll go along with it even if it involves bringing your mom into the equation as a way to make up for what happened.

If you don't blame him even reassure him that you don't fault him for what happened that it's just something that happened he might feel a little better but that's about it he'll still blame himself believing that if he had followed his instincts about her he could avoided you the pain of losing a mother twice.

So if you didn't have a relationship or even a good one with Betra high chance you will hear very little to nothing at all from her.

On the other hand if you do have a good relationship with Betra once the daze and fog seems to have settled she'll start thinking again the first thing to be shoved into her mind being you.

Betra will start doing damage control, If the divorce proceedings hadn't been finalized she'll start fighting it and start to act as she did before or even be more overbearing when attempting to ignite the relationship again.

Whether it succeeds or fails she'll also go straight to you and begin love bombing, If you accept her gifts she'll feel hopeful that she could fix the damage she's done to your relationship.

On the other hand if you reject her gifts, words and affection she'll feel like she really did screw up, If you through out this made contact with your mother and began seeing eachother regularly Betra would try to find dates that collide with the days you have set or cause a inconvenience to prevent you from seeing your mother.

If your father figures out what Betra's doing he'll immediately shut it down which she will stop albeit reluctantly.

From here she'll involve her bio-kid and attempt to bring at least a friendship between you both and start inviting you both to go out and be around eachother.

If you end being accepting of this and continue she'll keep it up and make sure to keep the relationship going, having gift giving be at a all time high as a way to apologize however if you remain distant and treat her a little more coldly than before she will latch onto you.

She'll sink her claws into you in a last ditch effort to bring back how it used to be and expect apologies to be a daily thing and promises of this to never happen again.

Afterall you and your father were there when she was still in the lowest point of her life that had you both not entered when you did she honestly doesn't think she'd be standing where she is right now.

So in the end you will be in control of whether your relationship will be made or break completely just be prepared for drastic measures to be made if you decide to break the relationship between you and her.

Request are open!

[fallenangely0hane]

The first of my Genshin Impact redesigns:

Amber!

The first one is a redesign of her normal skin, then the second is a redesign of her skin!

And for a refrence of her body type I drew this as well

I have a lot of notes about changes I’ve made, so feel free do read these if you’re interested!

- I made her more muscular, particularly in her back & arms due to her being an archer (I may have gone overboard by giving her abs tho haha)

- I put her long hair in a ponytail so her hair wouldn’t get in the way of her work, but kept it super long jut cuz it suits her

- I made her nose closer to the shape of a rabbit due to the whole rabbit motif she has

- I gave her tan skin due to her always being outside

- I gave her longer legs also because of the rabbit motif (and long legs tend to mean ur a better jumper I think. And rabbits jump. Get it.)

- I gave her a proper jacket and shirt mostly because I do NOT understand how her canon outfits work. Like how does she put those on and wtf do they look like when she’s not wearing them

- I gave her a tooth gap because I gave most rabbit characters a tooth gap. I don’t know how or why that started but I needed to honor the tradition

- I gave her freckles cuz they’re cute :3 and also some of them are shaped like her constellation so tell me if you find them ;)

- I gave her a bandana because it’s cuteee and it suits her. And I needed something around her neck to bring it together so

- I gave her some burn scars on her hands and some burned/ashy clothes because you can’t convince me she hasn’t accidentally set her clothes on fire at LEAST once

- So my approach to the skin design was to base it off of what the description of it in game was. And it was described as a more formal version of her normal outrider outfit. So I did exactly that and made a more formal version of her normal outfit

- Also I swapped the symbol to the other Knights of Favonius symbol/logo considering the one on her original design is ONLY on uniforms and is wayyyyy to complex for a logo

- I painted her nails Collei colors :) even tho you can’t see them in her normal design with the gloves :(

- I got rid of a lot of details in the og design bc I was too lazy to draw them LMAOOO

She was honestly a blast to design!! I plan on redesigning every character eventually so keep an eye out ;) Next up is my lesbian icon Lisa

[girlfromthecrypt]

My first Writeblr tag game!!

Thanks so much for the tag @mthollowell-writes! This is one of my first ever tag-games, so I'm pumped. Also, this made me realize I rly need to do a WIP intro for my main project. It's a dark fantasy/horror with some romance, too. The working title is Fucked Up Fairytale. That aside, let's goooooo

1) What motivates you to write?

Anything and everything! Writing is my coping mechanism, for good times and bad. It helps me keep hold of happy feelings and release negative ones. 

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I have multiple WIPs, but I'm going to refer to the one I plan on actually turning into a book. The working title is Fucked Up Fairytale. That may undergo revisions. Anyhow, I'll share two lines/snippets, if I may! Mainly because the first one is very short indeed. Here it is:

I braced myself for stupidity, and he didn’t let me down. —This is in the main character's (Margot's) narrative inner voice during a conversation with her little brother. 

And here's the other one, same chapter, same conversation! I feel like I may have gone a little overboard with Margot's world-weariness, but I kinda like it:

“The world I dream of has me making six figures at a job where my boss doesn’t need me to show him my tits,” I said, a chill creeping into my tone. “It has me going home at a reasonable hour so I can watch TV and fall asleep with a bag of spicy chips, preferably next to a spouse who doesn’t mind that they make me gassy.”

Neither of us spoke for a couple beats. Then, softly, my brother asked, "And where's the magic in that?"

"Nowhere, Callie. That's kind of the point."

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

That would apply to Margot's love interest from Fucked Up Fairytale. He's, um… special. To me, and in general. Seeing as he's one of the Folk, it would be unwise to share his name, especially since not even Margot knows it as of right now. He calls himself the Huntsman, so that'll work for now.

He's this rather delicate-looking youngish man; slender, short and long-haired—he's quite pretty, really. And he's the smuggest, most self-satisfied dork you've ever met, but in a sweet, non-threatening way. I just love his and Margot's more wholesome exchanges. They clash a lot; she's a recent university graduate, has been a skeptic all her life and didn't mean to get roped up into any supernatural stuff, and he's this forest-dwelling fairy-like entity. But they end up being really good for each other, despite (or perhaps because of) their differences. Even though their dynamic starts off based purely on physical attraction, it grows into something more and their interactions really feel cathartic at times.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

I love what happens shortly after getting the idea for something. It's like a little twitch in the brain that grows and grows and it's just… awesome. And I'm not actually doing anything at that stage, so it's also the easiest step. Also, I just love writing dialogue.

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

I think that's also writing dialogue! Not much else to say there. Oh, and nature descriptions sometimes. I've been told my nature descriptions are beautiful.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

How passionate everyone is! We all do the same thing, we write, and we all love doing it. And there's such an undertone of positivity to it all, of openness. That's really nice.

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Oof. This one's too hard for me. I'm honestly struggling with a lot of writing software so… I don't have a good answer to that. 

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

The majority of Fucked Up Fairytale takes place in a single location. It's a magical forest that is its own entity, almost deity-adjacent. Certain characters worship it to gain its protection and power, but it can also be dangerous, trapping humans and turning them into so something they're… not. 

I just really like that forest! I enjoy describing it, I enjoy creating new creatures it may be harboring, I enjoy lending this seemingly inanimate idyllic environment a personality that kind of shines through in a lot of scenes. I almost wish it were real. Almost.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

I'm with you.

That's all I, or anyone, can really offer, I believe. I've dealt with month-long dry spells, really horrible ones. I know it's shitty, I know it sucks. My advice, if I had any, would be to force yourself to write anyways. It's the only way to get back into it, and you should never ever give up writing. Writing is worth it.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

Well, obviously I'm gonna have to mention @prismatic-bell who once wrote a wonderful thirty-part fanfic to one of my stories and is, in fact, amazing. Xe has contributed greatly to a lot of my stories and I will be forever grateful for that. Also @rehnwriter who helped me set up my blog because I'm bad at internet stuff and need constant surveillance.

I'm tagging… uh… anyone who sees this and wants to participate! I'm really eager to get to know more folks from this community.