#this was one of those days where everything possible went wrong

[narcissosbythepool]

PriceGaz Pining Series

Part 5/14

Prev | Next

Prompt: Autumn //

The leaves have changed colour. It's like the park's trees are aflame with autumn. The air is chilly as he walks to the hospital, not quite cold enough to evaporate into mist as he breathes, but enough to pinch his cheeks and the tips of his fingers.

Gaz has been in the hospital for a couple days now. Price hasn't had the time to visit him until now, sorting out the aftermath of the mission. Everything that could possibly gone wrong went wrong, and Gaz got a bullet to his guts for his trouble. It took a lot of digging to find out who exactly fucked up and where, and how to fix what they had messed up. He and Soap are about to head out again in a couple days to tie up the loose ends, Ghost still busy with his own solo mission.

Price feels... guilty. For not visiting sooner, for leaving again so soon. For letting Gaz get hurt in the first place. That this happened on his watch.

He's fixing one of those mistakes now. He lets his gaze wander to the cool autumn sky as he nears the hospital. Its deep blue calms something restless in his chest. He's been waiting to see Gaz again. See him patched up, finally erase the vision of him as he took him to med-evac; bleeding profusely and his brows pinched in pain as he tried to keep a brave face. He was shaking all over but just grit his teeth and didn't let himself cry out in pain when Price carried him to safety.

He buys flowers at the hospital's flowershop. He browses the selection helplessly for a moment, wondering what the hell he's doing. Is it even appropriate for him to bring flowers? Would it be strange? But he pushes through the embarrassment – he's just being polite. People bring flowers to patients all the time.

His eyes land on a bouquet of deep blue flowers. His mind goes to the blue autumn sky. Has Gaz been able to enjoy the view? Maybe he would appreciate the reminder of the outside world. Besides, he likes blue, right?

Without thinking about it too much, he gets the blue flowers.

He weaves his way through the hospital, asking the front desk for Gaz's whereabouts, and then saunters to Gaz's room with the flowers squeezed in his sweaty hand.

He doesn't let himself hesitate at the door. He steps in with a knock and there he is – Gaz sitting in a hospital bed. His hospital gown is blue. It almost makes Price smile.

Gaz looks up from his phone and grins.

"Captain," he greets him and something warm spills over in Price's chest.

"Gaz," he says, walking up to him, stopping at the end of his bed. "Looking better, I see."

"I didn't expect to see you," Gaz says. It stings a bit, but Price guesses he deserves it.

"What kind of captain would I be if I didn't check up on my Sergeant?" he replies. Gaz's eyes soften a little. It makes his chest flutter.

"A shit one, I guess."

Price has to laugh at the flippant reply.

He hears rustling from behind him – he glances behind him, and sure enough, Gaz's roommate looks sheepish at being caught watching them.

"Don't mind me," the strange man says and takes out his phone. Price nods at him, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He turns back to Gaz whose eyes are already on him.

"Those for me?" he nods at the flowers and Price can feel his cheeks heat up.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "It's polite, isn't it?"

"Courtesy flowers," Gaz replies cheekily. "I'm touched, Boss."

"I can always take these home with me."

"C'mon now, Cap, I never get flowers," Gaz says, reaching out towards them. Price hands them over, their fingers brushing at the exchange, and he refuses to snatch his hand back even though it feels like the point of contact could burn him. Gaz cradles the flowers to his chest, leaning down to smell them.

"Thank you," he says then with a faint smile and Price mentally congratulates himself for the impulse buy.

"There's a vase on top the shelf above you," Gaz's roommate pipes up and Price nearly startles.

Gaz grins at the man. "Thanks, mate. Well, Cap?" He looks at Price expectantly, and suddenly Price is overcome with such fondness for his Sergeant that he doesn't know what to do.

It's helpless. He knows what it is, this unnamed emotion, the one he's still not brave enough to acknowledge. He thinks back to the panic he felt when Gaz went down, the desperation with which he hastily stuffed the bullet wound with gauze before heading for exfil. He should be groveling at Gaz's feet for forgiveness.

Perhaps he could, still, start with getting the bloody vase.

[alltflyter]

I've been thinking about the pandemic today.

I think this was maybe November or December 2020. I was working two jobs at the time: in the preschools and in an elderly home. Every surface needed to be sanitized, all the time. I reeked of alcohol, all the time. The skin on my hands was dry and cracking, all the time.

The preschools had a zero tolerance policy for symptoms in the kids and enforcing it was a sisyphean task.

This particular time I was alone for most of the day at the preschool-unit. Two of my co-workers had symptoms and there simply weren't enough of us stand-ins to fill their spots, so I was in charge of about ten kids by myself. Wash, sanitize. Once again, one of them was clearly ill: the little fellow was coughing miserably. I had to call his dad and ask him to pick him up. Did you know that phones are one of the most unsanitary surfaces you will come into contact with on any given day? Wash, sanitize.

He arrived angry, arguing. He couldn't afford this, he had a job to take care of. I wasn't patient enough. I couldn't extend my sympathy to him, I had ten kids to take care of. I said something passive aggressive. He yelled at me, really startled me, his kid, and a couple of the other children. Then he started crying and apologized. He comforted his kid, I comforted mine, and we sat there for a while on a bench in the cloakroom. I apologized, he left. I washed my hands again.

After my day at the preschool was over I had just about enough time to buy and eat dinner. Wash, sanitize. I stood in the queue, mask on of course, two metres apart. It was hot inside, I was still covered in my winter outerwear, sweating. The cashier scanned my dinner. Don't know if I remember exactly what it was, probably a sallad of some kind. As I walked out of the store, my phone rang. Trying to pick it up from my bag I stopped abruptly. Somebody walked into me, apologized, and walked past. I thought: what if I just disabled her for life? What if I just murdered her mom? I let my grandmother's call ring out and go to voicemail. Sanitize, wash my hands, sanitize. Then I ate my sallad.

I came to the elderly home for the night shift. Wash, sanitize, new mask, screen, gloves, wash, sanitize. I can't remember who died but I remember my colleague telling me. What if I forgot a wash at some point? What if I killed them? Please, please oh God, wash my hands. There was a terror in that house, all the residents were scared to catch it. They were lonely, too, even if most were impressively stoic about it. Told me all about how they hadn't seen their children or grandchildren since March, how the only human touch they had received for nearly a year was that of plastic gloves, how they couldn't even remember all the friends they had lost in that time. They were right to be afraid. According to a nurse who had been working there for a year, about a third of the residents had died since she started. I finished my shift, a thousand hand washes later.

I was on the bus, scrolling on the news app on my phone. The prime minister had said something strange again, can't recall what. Publicly, he had abandoned herd immunity, but practically this was still government policy at the time. A controlled spread. I put my headphones on to listen to the pundits and expert commentators. Lockdowns were a foreign exoticism, you see. An authoritarian state overreach, one of them explained; a counterproductive overreaction, another added. The only sensible thing, of course, was to sacrifice at the altar of capital as many vulnerable people as it took to appease that greedy god. That's nothing but common sense, all agreed, anything else would be alarmism or hysteria. I tucked my phone away. Sanitize, press stop, sanitize, hop off, sanitize.

I came home and went straight for the shower. I didn't dare look down, I was afraid that something red might be circling the drain. My husband woke an hour later and found me sitting naked on the edge of the tub. I couldn't tell him about work. I just asked him to please, oh God please wash me.

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[chevroletdean]

mirror sex [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

kinktober 2024

ship: dean x afab!fem!reader genre: smut, angst to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, established relationship, hunt almost gone wrong, canon-level violence, patching/stitching up wounds, dean’s self loathing tendencies, hurt/comfort, little bit of praise kink, fingering, porn with plot word count: 3.6k a/n: three days until halloween and i feel like i’m way behind on kinktober. i might just try to get to some of these during november as well, my apologies. also, the cat’s out of the bag: i’m a sucker for angst. i’m curious what you guys enjoy to read/write the most, are you more into fluff, smut, or angst?

Dean’s harsh on himself. Always. You knew that even before you started dating him. It’s how he grew up, after all. From a young age it’s been drilled into him by John; that he has to be tough and strong, that he isn’t allowed to think before he acts, that certain things have to be done – even when these things are ugly. Even when they turn other things ugly. Things like the sight of his hands afterwards. Things like his whole reflection, honestly.

It’s days like these where he enters autopilot, in a poor attempt of resorting to a self-defense mechanism. He can’t stand the reflection in the mirror, so he simply doesn’t look. He wouldn’t like what he sees, so he avoids it altogether, if he can.

Saving people, hunting things, the family business – killing monsters always sounds so heroic until you realize your decisions are cut-and-dry to the cruelest degree, until the soap can only scrub clean the red from your hands but not the guilt that still sticks to your skin, and until you begin to wonder who the actual monster is.

Dean’s harsh on himself in that he blames himself for everything. It’s all his responsibility, the weight of the world always on his shoulders.

Hunts go wrong. It’s part of the job, but that thought isn’t as comforting as it should be, because it doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t take away any of the gravity.

Dean and you had been tracking down this pack of aggressive werewolves. The job had sounded so easy, everything had been so straight-forward. Until you two realized that the town’s sheriff was in on it, and ultimately, so was his son. Partially, at least. Just a kid, barely twenty-one – about the age when Sam hit the library, when he should’ve hit on cute girls on campus, around the age of frat parties with beer-pong cups and hangovers.

A guy who had his whole life ahead of him, but had it snuffed out by a silver bullet to his chest. (or rather, by Dean’s finger pulling that trigger, if you’d ask Dean how it went down, because he sees no point in distancing himself from the narrative when it was his doing). Not because that kid wanted any of it. Hell, as Dean and you had been investigating the case, you came to realize all that boy wanted was a peaceful life. And you knew it was possible, some werewolves were able to build up normalcy without killing anybody, picket-fence and all, more so than your average hunter, sometimes.

But you had shot the sheriff, given that he’d been systematically kidnapping his victims throughout the years. And upon witnessing the silver piercing through his father’s chest, the student went downright feral. He attacked you and jumping you, going for a bite that never landed, was the last thing he ever did.

“You had to shoot him,” you told Dean in the car, just like he predicted you would.

“I know,” came Dean’s reply and those were the only words during the whole ride, just like you predicted they’d be.

Even upon arrival back at the bunker, he remains silent. The loudest noises are just his footsteps, which are heavier than usual as he drags you to your shared room, and ultimately the slam of the bathroom door that he shuts behind the two of you.

“Sit,” he says, voice laced with anger that you know he only directs at himself, and nudges you to the edge of the bathtub. You know better than to argue with him and despite the fact that there’s a nasty gash on his shoulder, you let him clean the minor scratch above your eyebrow first. You must’ve hit your head back when the werewolf slammed you against a shelf, but you’ve definitely had worse. But Dean puts others before himself and your wellbeing is always his priority.

Yet, his ministrations aren’t exactly gentle. He dabs the rubbing alcohol to your cut brow without any regard for the way you wince slightly. His eyes don’t meet yours as he shoves his hand into the cupboard and impatiently fishes for bandages. His jaw is clenched tightly as he patches you up with a bandaid.

He’s in his own head, clearly – or trying to keep those spiraling thoughts at bay within his self-critical mind. Those what ifs and should’ve dones would kill him otherwise.

You can only watch as he straightens his back, turns around, takes a step towards the sink opposite to the bathtub, slams the cabinet shut again, and keeps his gaze purposefully low. His eyes remain glued to his hands as he washes them, as if he doesn’t dare to lift his chin.

“Let me help you with your shoulder,” you mumble softly and he almost can’t hear you over the running water and the running thoughts. It’s your gentle touch that makes him snap out of it, but even as he raises his head at last, his eyes only land on the reflection of you. Your face peeks out over his shoulder, one of your arms wrapped around his middle, the other hand ghosting over his blood-soaked sleeve.

“No need, ‘m fine,” he grumbles, stubborn as ever. But as he turns off the faucet, the movement reminds him of the sharp ache and the dull throb in his arm. Just the graze of the sheriff’s bullet. He knows he got lucky, but he also can’t bring himself to care about any of that with every other dreadful aspect of today.

“A couple of inches away from death doesn’t fit my definition of fine, Dean.”

He can’t argue with that, it would be hypocritical. A droplet of blood on your forehead is enough to make him worry and who is he to deny you your concerns when he’s been injured too? Besides, he knows you can see right through him. Physical injuries are one thing, but the emotional damage often runs deeper than any blade or gun could.

Though his muscles are stiff, Dean doesn’t resist as you slowly peel off his flannel. His eyes are still fixated on you. He can’t bring himself to look at the wound himself, much less let his gaze drift anywhere close to his own reflection right now.

Your movements are mesmerizing enough to keep him distracted anyway.

You reach around him to turn the faucet back on and you grab a washcloth. You tie your messy hair back and out of the way and you carefully roll up the short sleeve of his shirt. You dampen the cloth and wipe the blood from his arm. Once you disinfect the wound, he ultimately looks away. Not because of the sting of the rubbing alcohol, but because of the pain he recognizes in your eyes. Your brows knit together and you frown slightly, sighing to yourself.

He can’t bear watching you pity or fuss over him when part of him feels like he deserves this.

“C’mon, ’s not even that bad, sweetheart,” he grumbles, but his voice is strained.

Your movements come to a halt as you blink up at the mirror, expecting to see his green eyes look back at you through the reflection. But Dean’s head hangs low again and his hands grip onto the edge of the sink he’s staring into.

“I’m glad it’s not,” you hum, but you still grab ahold of his hands and pull him away from the sink. “Sit.”

When you say that word, it sounds a thousand times softer than when he did. You know he hadn’t huffed it at you earlier, but rather didn’t bother concealing his bad mood. Still, his annoyances aren’t directed at you, so he makes an effort to pull you closer gently, in apologetic fashion. His hands settle on your hips as he sits down on the edge of the tub. You’re standing between his legs, surgical thread and needle in your hand.

“Lift your arms f’me, babe?”

When Dean follows your instructions without a witty remark about how eager you are to get him to strip, you know the self loathing is bad. You help him peel off his shirt, tossing it straight into the laundry basket. Luckily there aren’t any other major injuries, though you suspect a couple of bruises will bloom by tomorrow.

His hands go back to your hips, as if he’s able to steady and ground himself by holding you, to which you have no complaints. As long as he’ll let you stitch him up, you even let his bolder touches slide. You’re so focused on closing up the wound that you barely react to his fingers curling around the back of your thighs.

With this position, Dean’s practically forced to face the mirror again. It’s right behind you and with the way you’re half bent over, leaning down to his arm, the view is without obstruction. But his attention is fixated on the jeans-cladded plush in his palms. His hands wander higher, fingers splaying out over your curves. He gives your ass a gentle squeeze to which your breath hitches.

“Careful, unless you want to end up looking like Frankenstein’s monster,” you chuckle playfully, relieved that he’s in high enough spirits for teasing touches.

“Since when are you not into the scarred badass guys?”

“Touché,” you smile in response, “Although I prefer them in a confident mood.”

He groans, knowing where this is going, but he decides to play along. “What d’ya mean?”

Your smile curls into a smug grin as you shrug. “I mean,” you sigh and finish the last stitch, securing the thread into a knot and setting the needle aside. “Scarred, badass guys are even hotter when they know that they’re strong,” you continue, before you plant a kiss to his forehead, “that they’re brave…” Another kiss, to his nose this time.

A quiet growl escapes him as he instinctively tightens his grip on your ass. You know he doesn’t fully believe your words, but you’re adamant about convincing him, so you continue with your list: “…heroic.” More kisses, this time a chaste one directly to his lips, though Dean scoffs and pulls away almost immediately.

“Yeah, right,” he scowls. “Nothing screams hero more than murdering someone.”

“You saved me tonight,” you argue back, whilst gently cupping his face. “You’re definitely my hero.”

His gaze wanders from your lips up to your eyes, seeing nothing but gratitude and adoration in them. Both of which he feels undeserving of. Dean Winchester isn’t half the hero you think he is, he’s all kinds of screwed and his fucked up life consists of violence and regret most of the time. Yet you always look at him as if there’s something worth looking at. Even when he can’t see it himself.

“Just doing my job,” he replies and his voice feels thick and wrong on his own tongue.

“No,” you huff, your thumbs tracing the sharp edge of his jaw, the scruff grazing against the pads of your fingers. “It’s not your job to look after me, or to fight evil. But you’re damn good at it and you do it to make the world a better place. Just like you did today.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at your words, since he’s not exactly sure how shortening the lifespan of a young man can possibly add any plus points to his karma. But he understands where you’re coming from, even if he can’t accept it fully just yet. He doesn’t regret pulling the trigger either, he’d do it again – in a heartbeat – if it meant keeping you alive. In that regard, what he did was the right thing, but that didn’t mean it was an easy thing.

“You did what you had to do, babe,” you sigh, tilting his face up a little again before he could avert his gaze once more.

You’d tell him that he shouldn’t beat himself up over it, but that would be like talking to a wall. Your reasoning tends to reach him better than the loving reassurances, even though you both know you’re right. Maybe that boy didn’t deserve to die, werewolf or not, but in that moment it was either him or you.

Your lips land on him once more, this time on his jaw, before they wander down the hollow of his throat. Dean welcomes the sensation of your mouth on his neck, your teeth against his collarbones. Your hands on his chest, warm and soft and eager. So eager to make him feel good, to prove to him his own worth.

Your fingers are always enough to make his walls crumble. The sweet nothings you whisper to his ear always suffice. It might not heal him entirely, but his doubts are soothed for the moment whenever you need him. Whenever you give him what he needs. Whenever you love him.

Your hands reach the waistband of his denim pants, against which his cock is already beginning to strain. Once your touch ghosts over the prominent bulge, he snaps and indulges. In one swift movement, he stands up, his hands still tight on your hips as he picks you up and carries you to the sink. Within a second you find yourself positioned on the bathroom counter, your back nearly bumping against the mirror behind you and your legs draped around Dean’s waist. You’d complain about how he should be careful, lest he wants the fresh stitches to rip open, but your protest dies on Dean’s tongue, which he has already slipped past your lips.

Dean kisses you hard and with purpose, as if wanting to repay your praises. Where your mouth works its magic through words, he has always known different ways to use his. Always a man of actions, your boyfriend. His lips wander down your neck, making you gasp in delight.

He grunts, dizzy with the taste of you, your scent, your voice. You’re so soft under his calloused hands that he’s reminded once more of how close he was to losing you tonight. His impatient hands pull your shirt up over your chest, where his lips latch onto. He doesn’t even bother pulling it over your head fully, eager to search your heartbeat with his tongue, as if he’s able to taste that you’re still alive that way.

While you’re busy discarding your shirt properly, Dean’s mouth finds your nipple through the lace of your bra. You arch your back into his touch further, his name falling from your lips in a whimper that almost has his brain short-circuit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gruffs and pulls you off the counter, turning you in his arms so you’d face the mirror. His low voice is gravelly and half muffled by the column of your neck, which he still works some hickeys into. “Always treating me like some kind of hero when you’re the one keeping me alive and sane.”

His bare chest is pressed flush against your back and your hips are lodged against the edge of the sink, to which your shaky fingers grip so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You whimper again, softly, as you feel him rock his hips against your ass. Were it not for his large hands around you, one on your waist, the other cupping your breast, your knees would give out and you’d topple over.

Dean shoves a little harsher, his chest still flat against your back as he pushes you closer to the mirror. It’s fogging up slightly with how heavily you’re panting against the glass. Your eyes meet through the reflection and he finds himself not minding the mirror so long as you’re in the picture as well.

The bandaid that used to roughly match your skin color earlier now sticks out against your flushed face, red and warm all the way down to your neck and even your chest. Your lips are kiss-bitten, puffy and slightly parted as your ragged breath is interrupted by little mewls and whines.

Most days Dean’s looks in the mirror and hates what he sees. But he could get used to this view. At least he can appreciate the sight of his own hands on you, one around your throat, the other between your thighs, making you unravel, being held by yours as you reach for his wrists.

“Maybe scratch the sane part, you know you’re driving me crazy,” he revises his earlier statement as his deft fingers make quick work of your jean’s button and fly. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shudder as he watches every small reaction of yours closely, like a hawk.

He shoves his hand straight into your underwear, satisfied when his fingers find your slick and his ears pick up on the meek moan. He’s barely even touched you yet, but you’re already soaking. You’re so damn responsive it almost makes him want to rip both your pants off and just take you until you’ll see stars. While patience is a virtue, it’s not Dean’s strong suit – yet he wants to take his time with you.

“Always taking such good care of me,” he whispers roughly, gently pinching your clit between his middle and ring finger. “My turn making my girl feel good.”

Using your previous methods on you now, he presses a soft kiss to your temple. His lips brush right against the edge of your bandaid. “My pretty girl,” he breathes, before his mouth wanders to your cheek, where he places another kiss.

“My smart girl, always using her pretty head to keep us alive.” God knows his words are true – your quick thinking and ability to stay level headed has saved the both of you out of dangerous situations more times than he can count.

One of his fingertips slips past your entrance, causing you to overhear whatever he adds to the list of compliments. You’re too distracted by the digit sinking deeper into your cunt with little resistance.

Your blush deepens further, fingers curling around the sink’s ceramic. Your eyelashes flutter and your eyes threaten to close, but Dean prevents your head from dropping low with a gentle nudge of his hand. His fingers tighten around your throat, firm enough to make you redirect your focus, but not enough to squeeze your windpipes, let alone hurt you in any way.

“Eyes on the mirror, doll,” he hums against your jaw. “Would be a shame if you were t’miss out on the show, huh? Look how pretty you are f’me, princess, all sensitive and needy.”

You squirm and whimper, struggling to follow his order with how he’s making your head spin. He’s not playing fair. How’re you supposed to focus on anything except him adding another finger to pump in and out of your cunt?

“Dean, please,” you moan, desperately trying to wiggle your hips. You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for, exactly. More of him. All of him. Not like you can’t already feel him throb against the curve of your ass.

“Wanna see you cum on my fingers first, baby,” he mumbles, nearly slurring over his own words. But the hand around your throat loosens its grip and he already moves it down to pull your pants lower. “Know you’re almost there, can feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers.”

You half groan half sob, beyond flustered, but too far gone to argue back. Your legs are already shaking thanks to his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathing becomes more ragged with each intake of oxygen. You attempt to throw him a pleading glance through the mirror, but all you can see is your own messy state. Your gaze briefly flickers down, watching his thumb circle your clit in the reflection. However, your eyes are forced back up as Dean’s free hand winds up in your hair and pulls your head back until it’s settled against his uninjured shoulder.

“Eyes up here,” he quips and you’d want to wipe that smug smirk off his lips, were it not for his fingers curling inside of you and pushing you over the edge at last. Your mouth falls open and you cry out as liquid heat rushes through every fiber of your body. You see your own reflection, expression twisted into pleasure and bliss as your orgasm washes over you and you clamp down on Dean’s fingers. Your grip tightens around his wrist, which doesn’t stop him from guiding you through the ecstasy.

“So good for me,” Dean praises, or you think that’s what you hear in your hazy state. You’re still trying to catch your breath as he withdraws his hands from between your now sticky thighs. He brings it up to his mouth, giving his fingers a brief lick. You shudder in awe watching him. His pupils are blown wide, glistening tongue peeking out from those plump lips of his.

But he changes his mind at the last second.

“Not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he whispers and presses his fingers against your lips. You obediently open your mouth for him, welcoming his fingers in, though you flush more as you taste yourself on his skin.

Your walls flutter and clench around nothing just at that, but you have a feeling he’s about to do something about the empty feeling. He smirks knowingly, his cheek pressed against yours, your faces in the mirror side by side.

“Think I should show you how pretty you look taking my cock? I swear, it feels unfair that I’m always the only one who gets to enjoy the show.”

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

@winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126 @zepskies @hot-and-confused

@spookyfunhottub @calibootsgirl

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

hmmm just imagine Jason Todd with a girlfriend pretty and kind like an angel and everyone is just shocked because 'how they're a couple??"

Think I went a little of ask for this one 😂 🦦

Jason calls you his angel for a reason.

You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re downright beautiful/gorgeous and withheld an equally sweet, kind soul that bleeds through everything that you did or said. When you met Jason he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, finding him just slumped at your front door, severely injured. Anyone else who knew better would’ve left him but no, not you. You brought him -THE RedHood- into your house and home out of the kindness of your heart and patched him up as best as you could.

Heaven sent is another name of endearment that Jason called you and it held true on a plethora of occasions where he would find himself being dragged back at your doorstep, and it wasn’t long after that did Jason finally allow himself to pursue a chance at happiness by your side, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t the best decision he’s ever made in his entire life because being with you had been nothing short of a dream for Jason. A dream he never thought he’d get to live with the fucked up ordeal of having came back from the dead.

However when his family manages to catch wind of this because nothing stays secret for long, not by a long shot, their first thought was; how?

This wasn’t a slight towards Jason or his character but they couldn’t help but feel as though they’ve blinked and missed something extremely pivotal for this to have become the end result. They weren’t the only one to share this sentiment though as even Jason would be taken aback by your differences and often wondered if you were too different for your relationship to work.

It does however and it was one of the only times where Jason was grateful for being wrong for getting inside his own head, and just before he possibly ruins the best thing that has ever happened to him in a long, long while by self sabotage too. God only knows how much Jason would’ve hated himself for doing such a heinous thing to someone as underserving of such treatment as you.

So when Dick asks him one day ‘how did you manage to get someone like them?’ Whilst gesturing to you as you talked with the likes of Duke, Stephanie and Cass and getting along. Jason couldn’t think of a clear answer that would be enough to satisfy his brother’s curiosity because how was he meant to answer that question without it sounding generic and unoriginal.

‘Did you use any offhanded tactics to get them to be in a relationship with you?’ Damian asks and Dick gives him a look, only for the younger of the two of them to shrug his shoulders. ‘It was only a simple question Grayson.’

‘Yeah, just not one you ask when your brother comes home for the first time in months, and in a relationship nonetheless with the epitome of sweetness.’ Dick replied before looking over to Jason who was looking over at you with soft yet protective look on his face, but before Dick could say anything about how nothing was going to happen to you whilst in the Wayne Manor, Jason had already found the answer he has been looking for the entire evening.

‘They saved me.’ In the moment he said those words you looked over at him, Dick and Damian and smiled brightly that it never failed to knock the air out of Jason’s lungs upon seeing it. His angel, his heaven sent, the face he is blessed to see first and last thing in the mornings and late nights where he gently scolds you for staying up for him before kisses you in gratitude for doing so anyway.

Dick seemed content with this answer and meanwhile Damian looked visibly indifferent, he made a noise that said that he was also satisfied with this answer, just in time too as you came over to Jason and subtly held his pinkie with your own as you kissed his cheek. ‘You didn’t to tell me how cool your siblings were Jay!’ You began when Dick decided to join in on it too as he looked as Jason, betrayed. ‘You didn’t? Why not? Is it because you want your lovely partner to always be biased towards you?’ He pouts.

You chuckled and patted Jason on the bicep as you addressed Dick. ‘I’m always going to be bias towards my Jason.’ You admitted, causing a wave of warmth to flood Jason’s entire body upon hearing your confident confession. ‘For he is simply the best man I have ever met and that will never change.’

‘Never?’ Dick asked.

‘Never.’ You answered.

‘Even if he may be in the wrong sometimes?’ Damian asked this time and you shrugged, still smiling. ‘Not all of us are perfect beings and that’s a reality I’d accept rather than one where we’re all without flaw, physical or otherwise.’ Jason felt as though he might combust from your words alone but managed to compose himself enough to press a kiss to your temple to whisper against it. ‘Thank you baby.’

‘Anything for you Jaybirdie.’ You responded in kind, feeling him take hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you rested your head against his bicep as you both continued to talk with Damian and Dick.

Yours and Jason’s relationship may not be what many expected it to be or make logical but why should it when you and Jason were more than happy together?

[aphrogeneias]

i just don't know what to do with myself — one-shot

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader

summary: you and eddie got into a fight for the first time since you started... whatever it is there is between you. it's a lot to process, but he can't stay away from you for too long.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. drinking and driving (don't do that, kids). jealous!reader. smut (+18) with feelings. possibly dubcon (one of them is slightly intoxicated). eddie munson's puppy dog eyes.

author's note: it's been a long time coming... thank you to all those who waited <3

The street around him was busy, the rows of bars all over the block bursting with people. The yellow light from the lampposts and the neon red sign from the bar he'd parked right under lit his car from the outside in, a sickly kaleidoscope of the night life he was trying to run from, but Eddie made no move to leave.

He didn't want to.

It was a way to torture himself — unconsciously, maybe. Life went on around him, loud and bright, but inside, everything was dead still.

Eddie thought about you as he took another sip from the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the middle console. You were supposed to go home from the shoot with him. Did you take a ride with someone else? Did you take the subway home? If he knocked on your door now, would you answer it?

Had he crossed a line? No, scratch that. He'd crossed several lines the day he led you into his bed, and several other ones before that. That wasn't the question he should be asking, but Eddie couldn't help the thoughts that lingered like a cloud of smoke over his weary mind.

He'd left the photo studio that day a mess, your words ringing in his ears like bells. “I don't want to talk to you right now”, you'd said. Did you mean it? Should he not have insisted, then? Did he make everything worse?

He didn't even know what exactly he did wrong. You'd said it was your mistake, actually, and the more he thought about it, the more it broke his own heart.

Was being with him a mistake? Letting him in, that was your mistake?

Oddly enough, if that was the case, he understood. After all, he was the one who twisted the nature of your relationship, and you let him. It was selfish, but from the moment he saw you, he had to have you. The girl in the background who took his entire attention.

You still had it, it was irrevocably yours. Eddie thought of you every day since then.

And, perhaps, he thought, the worst thing about being away from you was the fact that he'd always believed you had the power to make everything right.

Whether it was your unwavering presence, a rock in the middle of the storm that seemed to be his life, or just your way of coming up with the most logical, practical decision to his most out-there problems — and even when you didn't, you were there. Just there, with a hand to hold, with a lap to lay his head on, with lips to kiss him and tell him everything was going to be alright.

Now that you'd turned your back on him, he didn't know what to do with himself.

The radio was long forgotten, but still on. Through the static, Dusty Springfield's voice came through, the orchestral track rising and rising behind it. He recognized it from one of his mom’s old records, and chuckled to himself, humorlessly.

In one moment, he hung his head over the steering wheel, hitting it with his forehead. In the other, it was like the car gained a life of its own.

Dusty’s voice carried on with the wind.

That small apartment building hadn't always been your home.

It was one of Rick’s apartments, where he'd let you live in — insisted on it, really — because your old one was falling apart and he didn't want you getting in another fight with your landlord. If Rick hadn't, then Eddie was ready to ask you to live with him.

Wouldn't be such a smart decision, looking back at it.

He walked up the stairs feeling less determined, more defeated than in the past few days. Lethargy sat on his bones, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol, the lack of sleep, or his brain that refused to shut down.

He just needed to see you.

Time stood still as he waited for you to open the door.

In those few, but long, moments, Eddie decided he would be fine if you shut the door on him the second you saw who was waiting for you on the other side. At least he would be able to see your face again.

Any other day, he'd laugh at the pity party he's throwing himself, but his heart ached too much to have any sort of self-awareness — see, he had never felt this way before.

When the lock moved, the key turned, and your sweet, confused face appeared through the doorway, something squeezed and bled inside his chest. He couldn't speak, but you did.

“Eddie?” You frowned. “What happened?”

“Hi.” He said, almost breathless, and suddenly, he doesn't feel as tired.

You were on your sleep clothes, a button down pajama set he'd sure seen before. A sight for sore eyes, with your sleepy face furrowed in confusion. If he touched you, Eddie mused, you'd be warm all over. It filled him with a longing greater than he thought he could handle.

“Hi,” you responded, opening the door a little wider, silently letting him in. He noticed you had almost let a pet name slip, “what's wrong?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

He stood in the middle of your living room, hands on hips, ready to wage war. It was frustration, not only due to what you'd said, but also to being in the same room as you and not being able to touch you. It raged inside of him, making his hands itch.

Eddie watched as you sat on the armrest of your couch, and struggled to find your words. “I'm sorry I haven't reached out. But to be fair, neither has you.”

“I thought you didn't want to hear from me.”

“Oh, Eddie. No! I'm…” You sighed, pinching your nose between delicate fingers, and your shoulders fell. “I'm embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed of what?” He asked, slowly. Crossing his arms, bracing himself.

“Of everything I said to you! I overreacted. I saw you with that model and all these insecurities came through. I couldn't keep it in so threw it all on you, and I couldn't take it back anymore. I feel ridiculous now.”

His eyebrows furrowed deep as he listened to you explain yourself, a whine coming through your lips as you got close to finishing. He tried to understand, his resolve slipping through his fingers.

“You could have talked to me instead of walking out.”

“I know!” You finally looked him in the eyes. “Like I said, I got embarrassed, and I thought you were mad at me…”

“I am. Still am, for the record.”

“And you have every right to be.” You looked defeated. Eddie wished he could change that. “I'm sorry. I should have talked to you. Actually talked.”

“It's just…” Eddie turned on his axis, flailing his arms around. “What were you thinking? What was that?”

“I saw you with that model and just couldn't help but think of all the better options you have out there. All the women surrounding you just seem like a more obvious option than me. Sometimes I can't help but wonder why you brother with this complicated thing we have when you could have anyone you want. Easily.”

He crumbled, then. “Oh, sweet girl…”

His feet moved first, towards you, and his knees followed, bending to your level. You looked down at him, eyes wide, as he splayed his cold hands over your bare thighs, making you flinch, but not move away.

“I don't want anyone else. You're the only one I see. All those other people… they don't exist to me. You have to know that.”

Tentatively, you reached out, twirling a lock of his hair around your finger. “Forgive me for doubting you?”

It was his turn to sight then, resting his head on your knee. He stood again, this time taking you with him. “C’mere.” He said, pulling you in.

Those same cold hands frame your face, pull you to his lips with fervor. He kissed you like he never did before. Hungry, ready to devour. Bumping your body back into the couch behind you, careless in his eagerness. Hands gripped you tight, pressed you close to his body. Begging silently, don't go.

“Ed,” you pulled back slightly, resting your forehead on his. “How much did you have to drink, honey?”

You must have felt it in his breath. He felt ashamed too, just as you did a mere minutes ago, but didn't have it in him to argue.

“Baby, please.” He said, running his nose over your heated cheek. “Not much, not nearly enough. Jus’ need to feel you. Please.”

“Are you sure?” Your breathing trembled as he ran his hands over your waist, down to the hem of your sleep shirt and under it, feeling your skin under his fingertips.

It felt like redemption.

He didn't take time to answer you, instead kissing you again. Tasting you on his tongue, drinking from you. Eddie kissed with his whole body, entangling himself on you, surrounding you on him. He needed to be the only thing on your mind. Bruising your lips with his, sucking your tongue as you mewled against him.

It didn't take long until you were clumsily walking back into your room, bumping into the walls along the way. He'd walked you back into the wall in the small corridor, kissing down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt with unusual dexterity for someone who had way too much bourbon in one night. Your pajamas fell into the floor before you even reached your bed.

Eddie whispered sweet nothings as he took in your body, never leaving you without his touch. He took the time to remember you — because a few days were enough for him to miss you to the point of forgetfulness.

To remember the way you liked to pull on his hair when he was between your thighs, covering your pussy with his mouth. He sighed with reverence against your swollen clit, pulling it between his lips, revelling in the sounds he pulled from you.

He let you grind against his mouth, fucking you with his tongue.

“Baby, baby, baby.” You whined. “Don't stop.”

He let his body answer for him, pulling you closer by the thighs, letting them close around his head. Letting you use his tongue, he let you ride out your high, but just barely enough until he was crawling over your spent body, still trembling under him, peppering kisses all over your torso.

“Missed you so fucking much.” He mumbled into your skin, “Don't do this to me again.”

You shook your head into your pillow, “I won't. I won't.”

Still keeping your legs open, grip hard enough to leave bruises, he positioned himself in your entrance. He couldn't stop touching you — face pressed into your face, taking in your scent, running the reddened head of his cock over your sensitive cunt.

“Don't want you away from me ever again. Promise me, baby.”

“I promise.”

It was no more than a broken moan as he entered you, filling you up to the brim, barely giving you time to adjust. You squirmed under him, grasping for purchase on his back, nails scratching down his skin.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathed. He knew he sounded frenzied, desperate for you. It wasn't like he had it in him to care, not when you felt like velvet around him. “That's it. That's it.”

He kept a slow but steady rhythm, fucking into you with purpose, heavy balls hitting your ass with each long stroke. His head hung in your neck as he heard your moans grow louder and louder, the wet sounds of your sex filling the room.

“Yeah? I know. I know, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the junction between your neck and shoulder, feeling your skin rise. “You missed me too, didn't you?”

“S’much.” You whimpered, clenching around him harder.

Without warning, he picked up the pace, feeling you were close. One of your legs lifted to his shoulder as he pistoned into you, hellbent on making you cum. He thrusted again and again and again, like a mantra. Like a plead.

As you shook underneath him, he kept going. Going and going and going.

He hoped that was enough to make your thoughts stop running from him. You could talk in the morning.

[misotsukiiyeooo]

You could write a Seungcheol where he's worried because you've been sad for days, and when he asks why, he's surprised when you say it's because your kids are growing up and you miss having a baby at home.

Tks (:

"Just one more?" Part 1

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: This is such a cute req!! (I didn't know if you wanted a fluff or not so this one's a fluff, but I could possibly make a pt 2 smut if you want! hope you enjoy!(PART 2 IS UP!)

Genre: Fluff + Angst

Word count: 3.3k (not proofread)

Synopsis: You've been pretty sad for a while now and Seungcheol wants to know why.

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

Seungcheol has been watching you, and he knows something's off.

Down to you pouting every time you look at the kids to you frowning all the time you guys talk.

You're all at the mall right now shopping for clothes and he's pushing the cart with your youngest son and daughter sitting in as he holds the oldest son's hand.

He notices you stop at the baby section picking up some little girl shoes. "Mommy, those won't fit me anymore!" Your daughter, Jieun giggles at her Mother.

Y/N seems unfocused somehow. "Oh..you're right. Anyways let's get going yea?" She looks at me "Yeah, I think we got everything we needed."

He brushes off whatever happened not putting too much thought into it.

It's the next day, Monday, meaning the kids go to school Seojun, the oldest goes to 4th grade while Jieun goes to 2nd leaving Dohyun in daycare.

I make their breakfast and pack their lunchboxes while Y/N gets them dressed.

They come out of the room one by one to eat and Y/N comes out holding Dohyun and putting him in the high chair getting ready to feed him until he decides to grab the spoon, attempting to feed himself. Y/N pouts at the sight of this.

We get into the car and you can't stop thinking about your grown babies.

Dropping them off is never easy, Seeing Seojun wave goodbye and walk into the school himself then Jieun who looks back and smiles before leaving.

The only person you actually walk to their class is Dohyun, but at his age, he doesn't even wave bye, too invested in a shiny toy he spotted. Entering the car Seungcheol looks at you. "Is everything alright Babe?" He caresses your hand. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know...you seemed a little out of it for the past week." He focuses back on driving as the light turns green. "Really? I'm fine really." Trying your best to reassure him earning a nod.

Arriving home you sit on the couch and turn on the TV.

A Pampers commercial pops up and you can't help but frown. Seungcheol sits beside you and turns off the TV, "Y/N look at me, you can't fool me I know something's wrong, and I hope you know I'm here for you."

He looks into your eyes fondly. "It's nothing really, just some thoughts..this is stupid."

Fidgeting with your fingers, he holds them. "It can't be stupid if you've been thinking about it for a week." He waits quietly for you to talk. "Well, the kids, our kids are growing up so fast...and I kind of miss that feeling of having a newborn baby.."

Seungcheols eyes widen, completely surprised. "That's what's been making you sad? So what you're saying is you want another kid?" You nod looking away.

"Baby, our oldest is only in 4th grade, let alone Dohyun's in daycare."

"I know but you've seen what happened earlier when I went to feed him? he took the spoon himself.."

He chuckles leaving you confused. " I see, so that's why you were looking at little girl shoes and pouting whenever you see the kids playing."

"That's not funny" You look at him trying to hold back his laughter. "It's not funny you're right, it's silly how you held that in for so long.

"You know if you wanted another baby that bad you could've just asked me. I'm always open to seeing another little you walk around the house."

Smiling at the thought, you blush, hitting him lightly, "Don't just say things like that!" Seungcheol giggles, "What? I can't say how I'm willing to give my beautiful wife whatever she wants? Even if it's a fourth child?" He looks at you, eyes big.

"Really? just one more?" You put your pointer finger up. "Yes, just one more, if that's what you want, that is."

Reqs are open!

Taglist

[starkwlkr]

“he’s here!” | logan howlett

an: this is inspired by the scene in x-men 97 where jean tells logan “he’s here!” because she’s in labor and logan’s all like “who? apocalypse?” and whips out his claws expecting to fight and jean just yells at him “the baby!” omg my favorite scene lol

mutant!reader (telekinesis baby!!!!)

It was a quiet normal day in the mansion. Rogue was helping you set up the finishing touches to the baby’s nursery. With a wave of your hand, you assembled the last shelf where Rogue placed a the ultrasound pictures.

“So you still don’t have a name for the baby?” Rogue asked. Every day it was the same question, all she wanted was to know the name. It was a secret for everyone.

“We do, Rogue, we just agreed to reveal it after the birth. You’ll find out soon, everyone will.” You said, walking towards the door of the nursery. You took one last look at the room and sighed. In a few days, your son would be sleeping in that same room.

“Oh! I forgot to show you something! Bobby and I went to the mall the other day and I found the cutest outfit for the baby. I’ll go get it.” Rogue said excitedly. She rushed out the nursery towards her room.

“I’ll be in the kitchen!” You called out. Being pregnant was exhausting. At the moment, you were craving fruit so you walked slowly to the kitchen. Everything was hurting lately, but you didn’t think much of it. You still had a week left until your baby boy was born.

When you finally made it to the kitchen, you found Logan drinking a beer that he had snuck in. “I thought I told you to stay in bed.” Logan stood up from his chair and walked over to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sick of staying in bed all day. I needed to move. Rogue was helping me finish up the nursery,” As soon as you said nursery, he was about to start scolding you. “I barely lifted a finger! She was moving everything, I just told her what to do.” You half lied.

“Sure, if that helps you sleep at night, baby.” Logan chucked.

You playfully hit his arm then walked to the refrigerator in search of a container of fruit that Logan had cut up for you. You found it with a note attached that said ‘baby howlett’s mom’. You smiled at the note. As you pulled it out of the refrigerator, you felt a sharp pain. It caused you to let go of the container, the contents of it spilling everywhere on the kitchen floor.

Logan rushed over to you quickly. “What’s wrong? Where is it hurting?”

“Logan . . .” You groaned. “He’s here!”

Immediately Logan’s claws came out. “Who? Magneto?” He looked around the kitchen frantically in search of the possible threat. “Stryker? Show yourself, you son of a bitch!” He yelled.

You couldn’t believe it. Did he suddenly forget you were pregnant? Maybe it was the beer finally getting to him. . .

You groaned once more as the pain struck again. “The baby!” You screamed. You waved your hand, his jacket and keys were thrown at him.

Logan’s eyes widened when he heard those words. He was about to become a father. “Oh crap.”

“Take me to the hospital, you asshole!”

After quickly finishing his beer in one sip, he helped you down the stairs. You couldn’t stand the pain. Each time you felt pain, objects around you would break. As you were walking towards the main entrance, you passed by a coffee table with a vase on it.

“Ah! Fuck!” You winced as a contraction hit you hard. The vase exploded as a result. “Shit!”

“It’s okay, Charles hated that vase anyways!” Logan assured you. In reality, the vase was a gift that was in his family for years. Maybe Charles wouldn’t notice.

“Logan!” The couple heard Rogue yell out. “I’m coming with you!”

Before Logan could protest, you scream once more causing several objects in the living room to break like tables and chairs. Even the TV screen had exploded. You didn’t mean to do that.

“Just help me get her into the car.” Logan instructed Rogue, who quickly ran to your side and helped you down the steps of the mansion.

“I really really hate you right now.” You said to Logan.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

[onskepa]

Hey saw tou were open!!

Could you do a ronal x platonic female reader, who is having her first mother's day as a new mom. She goes to ronal and explains the earth holiday. As part of her tradition she gives ronal a mother's day gift and ronal gets to see cute teeny tiny human baby!

Hellooooooo~!! So when I read this one, I knew just where to put it! Enjoy~!!

Irayo pt1

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

Irayo: Best mama's around!

Ronal kept herself busy these past few days. More busy than usual. Anything to distract the lingering worry of her friend, Irayo. It has been 8 days now, Ronal counted since her last visit. Not just ronal who worries, but her daughter young tsireya is now questioning where her auntie is. Her, and slowly the villagers begin to worry. 

Not to make her worries any better, Ronal has no way to communicate with Irayo. She remembers clearly, the last time she was her friend. Everything was fine that day, irayo behaved normal, acted as normal as she could be. Made another set of friendship bracelets, helped take care of tsireya, did her part in the village. Everything was normal. 

So why now is she gone? Are the sky demons preventing her from returning? Did they deem her useless now? Is she alright? 

So many questions linger in Ronal's mind. Anything she does, her worries are not calmed down. If by day 10 irayo does not return, ronal can only fear the worse. 

“A little bit dramatic, don't you think?” Irayo asks as she plays patty cake with little tsireya. Ronal was too busy hugging her from the side, saying how worried she was and what possible routes irayo was going through. 

“Not dramatic, only worried,” Ronal says, a bit stubbornly. 

Irayo can only laugh at the tsahik’s antics. 

“What happened? Why were you gone for many days?” Ronal finally asks. Needing to know if whatever happened, that irayo was alright. 

“I am fine, its just I wasnt feeling well and I had to be examined to find out what was wrong” irayo answers. This made Ronal more worried. “And? Are you well? Why didnt you come to me? I could have helped you” ronal gently scolded. Irayo only shook her and answered in her own way. 

She smiled and grabbed Ronal by the hands, guiding them to her belly. 

“I am pregnant” 

Those three words echoed in ronal’s head, slowing taking in what the human just said. Her eyes were wide, almost unbelieving what she said. 

Irayo laughed at Ronal’s reaction. Tsireya laughs as well even though she doesn't know why. 

“And who is the fool who believes he is worthy of you?” 

Word spread of Irayo’s return and the news of her pregnancy, the people went a bit wild. Welcoming her back, many gave her gently hugs, being mindful of her belly. Even though irayo said she was only 2 weeks pregnant, none took it lightly. Pregnancy at an early stage, any stage really, is the most important. Anything can happen. 

So the villagers, and by extension ronal and tonowari, made sure irayo only did safe, light tasks. Some had given her many things for her baby when its born. Children would follow irayo and ask her so many questions, like what is the difference between a na’vi baby and a human baby. Will the baby be blue or a different color? Small or big? Cute or ugly? 

So many things and Irayo was just happy to resume it all. Even more now that soon, her little one will get to experience the same excitement as she does. Her stage is still early, but no doubt her motherly instincts kicked in. 

As time goes on, ronal allowed irayo to take care of tsireya more often, to practice in how to take care of a baby. Would talk about her experiences in taking care of an infant and so on. However Ronal does not know how much of the information will be useful to her friend. As she does not know how different a human baby is to a na’vi baby. 

And as the months go by, ronal witnesses irayo’s belly growing. While she may not fully show it, Ronal is secretly excited for the baby to arrive. One day, when Irayo was 4 months pregnant, she asked a sudden question. 

“Would you like to feel the baby?” 

This question surprised ronal. 

In na’vi customs, pregnant females only allow their mates or really close family members to touch their bellies.

Is it the same for humans? 

“Can I…?” Ronal asks hesitantly. 

Irayo nods and gently places ronal’s bigger hands onto her growing belly. 

“The baby is still small, but in future months, they will move and might even kick,” irayo explains. Being still, Ronal can sense a small heart beat. From her experience, this small heart beat sounds healthy. 

“You baby is strong,” she comments. Irayo giggles, she doesn't doubt ronal. She can feel her baby. 

“Baby?” little tsireya echos the word as she waddles over to the two mothers. Practicing how to mother with the little one, irayo feels she is ready. But slight doubt still lingers in her. 

Playing with the child's hair, Irayo confesses her inner struggles. 

“Ronal…do you think I will be a good mother?” she asks. 

Ronal looks at her friend, a sad smile on the human's face. “Of course you will be. Perhaps not perfect, but a good mother. I have seen you around my child, with the villagers' children. Why think you will not be?” 

“I don't know, maybe it is just my mind playing games. I see how you raise tsireya, when she was born to now. You are wonderful to her. You have far more experience than I. the other women, I see how they handle their babies. I fear that whatever I will try, it won't be enough. That maybe I will fail and-” 

Ronal places her hands gently on irayo’s cheek, making her look at her. 

“You will be a wonderful mother to your baby. Anything you will do, shall do, will be seen as perfection to your baby because it will be all that they know. I am not perfect irayo, no one else. I make my own mistakes, but we learn and so will you” 

“Learn!” tsireya repeated. 

Both ladies look down at the little girl with soft smiles. 

Irayo leans a bit to kiss tsireya’s head. 

“At least my baby will have someone to look up to”

9 months had come to completion. Ronal wasnt able to see irayo for a while. Irayo explained she will need to be under constant supervision since the due date was nearing. Ronal understood, but the inner fears and anxiety creeps every night. 

Will irayo be alright? Will the birth be safe? Will the baby be healthy? 

So many questions, ronal even suggested she helps to deliver the baby. Willing to push aside her own personal views of the sky demons for the sake of her friend. While irayo was happy, she couldn't. 

And it wasn't for another 3 months that finally, irayo returned. This time she wasn't alone. 

She came to the village with her baby. 

Everyone was so ecstatic! 

They all surrounded her and her baby. Welcoming her back and welcoming the baby as well. Her baby was so cute! Mothers praised the little one, seeing how healthy the baby looked. And many more for being curious, it was the first time they have seen a human baby! Who knew they could be adorable? 

However the crowd was quickly disbursed by the presence of ronald and tonowari with tsireya in her father’s arms. 

Ronal of course was the first to hug irayo, letting out a long relieved sigh. 

“Thank Eywa you have returned” she whispers. Looking at irayo, she didnt know if it was the sun, or something else but the human had a natural glow in her physic. That motherly glow all females have after birth. It made irayo look stunning. 

“I am happy to be back,” irayo says. 

Soft babbles were heard, in the small bassinet was the human baby. 

Leaning down, ronal took a good look at the human baby. 

“Has your eyes…” she comments. 

The baby stared at ronal, no fear, only fascination. 

“Would you like to carry my baby?” Irayo asks, knowing ronal wants to. Without needing to answer, ronal carefully and gently holds the baby into her arms. 

“Baby!” tsireya squeals. 

Tonowari chuckles, “yes me’ite, it is a baby. We must be careful and be gentle” he says, tsireya nodding. 

“Your baby is so beautiful…oh Eywa, maybe you bless this baby with a great life and a wonderful future” ronal prays. 

Tonowari gestures irayo to a certain direction, “come, there is much to talk about”

Tsireya was entertaining the baby, showing many toys and singing little songs. Never keeping her eyes away from her new friend. 

Irayo sits beside ronal, “I have a gift for you~” she teases. 

“I wonder what it could be” 

Already knowing what it is. 

As predicted, irayo brought out 4 bracelets, “new BFF’s bands!” irayo says happily. 

Carefully tying it around ronal’s wrist, doing the same for herself, tsireya and her baby. “We shall commemorate this day as our first mother’s day!” she goes on. 

Ronal looks at her curiously. 

“Mother’s day? What is that?” 

“Mother’s day is a human tradition. Once a year on a special day, we celebrate our mothers. Giving them gifts, a day to relax, and appreciating them overall. So, this is my gift to you and to myself. It is not often celebrated here with my co-workers but at least I can celebrate it with you!” irayo happily answers. 

Looking down at her new bracelet, tracing over the beads and sea glass, she likes it. 

“Gifts huh…well then, I have a gift for you as well” ronal says. 

This makes irayo get closer, already excited. 

“What is it?” irayo answers. Ronal answers deadpanned. 

“I am pregnant” 

NGL I got carried away but I like it! So, until next time! See ya!

[loggiepj]

illicit affairs

part 2 | part 3

YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.

Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.

It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.

You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.

Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.

"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.

You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?

"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."

Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.

"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.

"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."

"Froot Loops?"

The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."

You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.

"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"

"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."

"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"

Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"

Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"

"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"

Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."

You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.

You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"

"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."

Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."

"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.

Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.

Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.

TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.

It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.

Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.

"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"

"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"

And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.

Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.

You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.

You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.

"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.

"How's Tommy?"

"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."

"That's good," you said.

"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."

"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.

There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.

"I don't want to impose—"

"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."

She nodded. "Thank you."

YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.

"You going to be fine alone?"

"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.

"Will your father visit?"

The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."

That was news to you.

"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."

Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."

He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."

You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"

Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."

You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.

"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."

Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.

Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.

Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"

Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.

"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."

Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."

"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.

Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"

"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."

"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.

WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.

"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.

"Mm?"

"Is it true?"

You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"

There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"

You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"

"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."

"You infuriate me!"

"That's not a no—"

"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"

"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"

You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.

With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.

"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.

You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.

Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.

The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.

The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.

But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.

"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.

"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"

"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"

And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.

"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.

"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰

[yrbladie]

♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎WHEN THEY LOSE YOU ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ ayato, diluc, kaeya, neuvillette, zhongli

warnings ：angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of death and body (yours), sad bois, some have quite a comforting ending, others not so much, gn! reader, established relationship, implied marriage (ayato, diluc, zhongli), reader is called 'beautiful' (kaeya), spoiler free, non fluent writer

ㅤHe doesn't weep at first. Don't get him wrong, though, it's just that how could he ever fathom the thought of not having you by his side anymore?

��You were taken from his arms so suddenly that he wondered if you were ever real since the start, or only a fragment of his imagination, something that had always only belonged to his most beautiful dreams.

ㅤThe only way he knew you were indeed real was by the way people would talk behind his back when they thought he wasn't paying attention, talking about how sloppy he had become. Or the way he would still find small bits of you sprawled over his desk. Trinkets you gave him, and the letters you had sent to him the last time you went to visit your homeland for a week, knowing your lover would miss you too much.

ㅤIt suddenly dawns on him at that moment. How you were not there anymore, how he would never see you again, see your bright and beautiful smile or hear your giggle at his poor cooking skills.

ㅤAt that moment when he suddenly misses you, Ayato gets up and goes to visit you. In a place he never thought he would see you. Buried under the Sakura tree you planted with him last summer, the one where you both had wished for it to be as eternal as your love for each other.

ㅤHe sees your grave filled with flowers and gifts from the people you had known, and even finds the bouquet of flowers Thoma had sent under his name. And he kneels beside it, staring at your name written there.

ㅤHe still felt guilty, that he was not there for you when you needed him the most. That he was busy with work above anything else again. He could have protected you oh so easily, and he wasn't there.

ㅤ"I hope you can forgive this stupid lover of yours, my dear."

ㅤForgive him for everything. Forgive him for not loving you better, and for not being strong enough to be there when you died nor when you were buried.

ㅤAyato now knew, dreams are never meant to last.

ㅤWhen people saw you both together on the streets, with Diluc carefully holding your hand or touching the small of your back to guide you through the streets, like you were made of the finest porcelain, everyone thought they were going crazy.

ㅤThere was no way, the master Diluc Ragnvindr, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt, unmatched in every possible way, had gotten himself a lover.

ㅤWhen you arrived it was like a breath of fresh air for everyone who knew Diluc. You made him a different man, made people see a different side of him Diluc himself doubted existed.

ㅤAnd you were everything to him. Until the fateful day you were forcibly taken from him.

ㅤBut still, he couldn't hope to grieve, he had no time to let himself stop and rest, not even for a minute. In a minute so many things can happen, just like in a minute you were gone.

ㅤDiluc still had Mondstadt to protect, and he would focus solely on that for as long as there was still air in his lungs. Even if his torn heart still churned in pain everyday.

ㅤEven if in the darkest hours of the night, just before dawn, he would still sit alone in his dimly lit room, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. The walls of his manor, once filled with laughter and love, now seemed to echo with the emptiness of his loss. The air was heavy with the scent of fading memories.

ㅤEverything in your shared room is a bittersweet reminder of the warmth that had once been, now slipping through the cracks of time.

ㅤOutside, the world moved on, without you. And Diluc couldn't understand it, for his world was you. Every moment without you felt like an eternity.

ㅤAnd in those short moments he wept. Letting the pain flow freely, as if by releasing it, he could somehow reach across the chasm that separated you both. And he still could somehow feel your presence in brief moments, a soft whisper in the breeze or a fleeting glimpse in a dream.

ㅤDiluc had experience in mourning, and he knew that one day, the sharpness of his pain might dull, but his love for you would remain eternally vibrant, a testament to the life you had shared.

ㅤIn his own way, he would carry on, honoring your memory with each step forward, holding you close in the chambers of his heart, as he navigated the path of grief, one tear and one memory at a time.

ㅤIn that way, Diluc could forever hold you close to his heart somehow. The idea that you would have liked that he kept protecting those you had come to love, gave him comfort as he got up for another day.

ㅤYou were his first, but also his last.

ㅤOh, to be loved by the Cavalry Captain, with his deceiving smiles and well thought words. People used to call him such a heartbreaker before you came along and showed to all that Kaeya Alberich could be so much more than that.

ㅤIt seemed like he always had a smile reserved only for you. Different from the grins and crooked smiles he gave for others. With you nothing was ever fake, you had managed to tear down the walls he built to keep himself safe each and every time, no matter how much he tried to keep you at an arm's length.

ㅤBefore Kaeya even noticed you had already made a home in his heart and had no plans of leaving.

ㅤBut of course, fate had always found its way to mock him. He could but only watch as your life slipped past his fingers like sand, no matter how much he held onto you and begged the skies not to take you. Not you too.

ㅤIn the end, Kaeya still had to carry back your lifeless body to Mondstadt, back to your home where you belonged.

ㅤBut did he still belong there now? He was once again reminded of his purpose, the destiny that hung heavily above his head, like a death sentence forever haunting and taunting him. A destiny he just couldn’t seem to escape.

ㅤCursed to loneliness, to destruction. He should have known he didn’t deserve all the happiness you had brought along with your love to his wretched life.

ㅤYou had slipped away, leaving behind a void that seemed insurmountable. In the beginning, Kaeya refused to acknowledge the cruel twist of fate. He clung to the hope that this was all a nightmare, a cruel illusion that would dissipate with the morning light.

ㅤDays turned into nights, and reality set in, stubborn and unyielding. The denial that had once shielded him from the harsh truth began to crumble like a fragile dam battered by the relentless waves of sorrow.

ㅤHe still remembered everything about you. While others would talk about how sweet you were to everyone, Kaeya would remember the laughter shared on lazy Sunday mornings, the whispered promises exchanged under a blanket of stars, and the simple joys of a life built together.

ㅤHe still had your portrait on his desk, a painful reminder of how beautiful you looked when you smiled up at him. And he still wondered how you were. Are you happy now, wherever you are? Are you safe?

ㅤOr do you miss him like he misses you?

ㅤKaeya only found solace on those lonely starry nights, where he laid by himself on the grassy field he always hated, saying the grass always got stuck at his hair as you laughed, calling him such a drama king.

ㅤAnd as the first rays of dawn began to set in, he smiled.

ㅤThe pain remained, a constant companion, but it transformed into a tribute—a testament to a love that transcended the boundaries of mortality. With a heavy heart, he got up, in a silent acknowledgment that life, though forever altered, would continue.

ㅤHe would carry your cherished memories with him into an uncertain tomorrow. With a newfound strength—a resilient ember burning in the ashes of loss, Kaeya had to carry on.

ㅤEven if his fate overtakes him once more one day, the whispers of your voice, urging him to embrace life would always remind him that there was something out there worth fighting for. And that one day, when his body and heart rests for one last time, he will meet you again.

ㅤThe skies of Fontaine have never been cloudier than since the day you died. The rain poured down, seeming endless. Like a mourning prayer for another loss the nation held.

ㅤYour funeral was quiet and quite lonely. You had not really been a person that went out each and everyday, or that easily befriended all that you met through your day. You were a common person, like any other in Fontaine, maybe just a little weird with your outlander ways.

ㅤBut Neuvillette still loved you anyway.

ㅤYour love for each other was nothing grand nor loud. It was almost timid, but shined brightly like an unwavering ember.

ㅤSo it didn't come as a surprise that no one knew about your relationship with each other. Neuvillette was, before anything, an important and key figure in Fontaine, his every move scrutinized under the city's gaze, yet whose true emotions remain hidden behind a mask of stoicism.

ㅤEven to the end, he couldn't even attend your funeral. Watching from the sidelines, like an outsider. He watched as your loved ones paid their respects, leaving their flowers and good wishes that you now may be safe, in the arms of the gods.

ㅤNeuvillette wanted to scoff at this. The gods were silent as their people suffered under their gaze. And most of all, there was no space for people like you on their golden mighty thrones.

ㅤWhen everyone parted and left only your lonely tombstone, did Neuvillette finally came to pay his own respects as the rain fell heavier, a reflection of how he felt inside. Like a storm that could never break free from the clutches of a well maintained facade of a composed judge.

ㅤYou made him so vulnerable as each time you touched his skin, his heart longed for more of you, with feelings he couldn't understand.

ㅤIf only he had noticed sooner, if only he had met you sooner.

ㅤIf only you were still here. To show him comfort once more.

ㅤBut as the calm and collected Iudex wept by the lonely grave, you were still gone.

ㅤAnd in the next day and even the next after that, every day became an act. An imperturbable, endless theatrical piece. Worthy of even being presented at the opera house.

ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still conducted each trial with unperturbed accuracy, the outside seemed to have forgotten about you. But not him, never.

ㅤHe still heard your voice, just outside his office, while you laughed with the Melusines. He still asked for two cups of tea to be prepared and people wondered who the other cup was for. And he still had the official documents where you accidentally doodled on and had apologized profusely for doing it, but Neuvillette had never held it against you.

ㅤAnd he still loved you. Each day when the rain started again, the pitter patter sound followed the judge as he disappeared through the corners of Fontaine to find you once again.

ㅤHis life was destined to be eternal, and so was his love for you, despite the fact you weren't by his side anymore.

ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still found small flowers and trinkets left on your grave, he knew he would not be the only one to forever remember about you.

ㅤThe God of Contracts was no stranger to loss and to mourning. He himself had buried more friends than he could count.

ㅤHe had an immortal soul and an unyielding memory. His friends were forever reminders on his everyday life, that he got to walk the places they never had a chance to see.

ㅤEvery time, he caught himself reminiscing about you, about your shared laughter under the bustling night time of Liyue, and the dreams over breakfast.

ㅤAnd how fate took you away from him.

ㅤThe town now seemed to be filled with a haunting silence, even if nothing much had changed. The vendors still called for him to eat and buy their products, he still watched the same plays and stories. But now every corner held a memory, a reminder.

ㅤDays turned to nights, and nights into days, but the pain persisted, insistently. Zhongli found solace in the shadows of the past, where memories of your happiness still lingered like a sweet melody.

ㅤHe never thought of himself as someone to be stuck in time. But your presence and your loss seemed to have made an ever deeper impact on his life than he initially thought.

ㅤAs the years went by, he would still wait for you. With the hope and the heartache that the skies would relent at his incessant prayers and return you to his arms, in another form, in another life, it didn't matter.

ㅤStill, he knew he was not alone. Hu Tao would pat him in the back gently in an almost nudging manner every day, encouraging him to go out again, to rest more. And slowly Zhongli felt like he could gather the shattered pieces of his heart again. Like his wounded soul still had a purpose.

ㅤEven if his body and mind eroded until there was nothing more left of him, he thought that all the memories of you would still be his most cherished treasures.

ㅤAnd so, in the quiet town where love once blossomed and sorrow cast its shadow, Zhongli would learn once more to carry the weight of loss with gentleness. The stars above forever witnesses of his eternal and enduring love for you.

ㅤIn the small shrine he built above your grave, where Zhongli could still feel your presence sometimes, through your pictures and the incense. His heart was finally at peace.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ《◇》

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

[hellisharchive]

﹒﹒﹒the orginal dick

▶ Adam was not who you expected him to be as the first man, you expected someone prim and perfect and can do no wrong. He was far from that, and quite frankly kind of an asshole. You hated him- so why did you agree to a one night stand?

▶ Adam x fem!reader

▶ 18+, virgin reader, fingering [r receiving], oral [r receiving], pnv, Adam calls reader "Babe", "Baby, and "Bitch"

▶ adam masterlist | ao3 link

You arrived in Heaven a few days ago and it was amazing. Everything was perfect, no crime, no abuse, everything was bliss. The strictness of rules didn't get past your radar though, makes sense though, Heaven was no place for terrible people. What you didn't understand though, is how much of an asshole Adam was. He was the very first human ever created and ascended to heaven, so why was he allowed to swear and talk sexually like there was no tomorrow? He seemed to be the only one allowed to do so, anyone else was quieted or given consequences. Maybe because of him being the first human gave him the right? You didn't know, but didn't care.

You never personally talked to him, preferring to stay as far away from him as possible just so he never would start up a conversation with you. Besides, he was always with Lute, those two were inseparable. Honestly, you thought they were together. You asked a few others who knew him and they all said that those two were a friends-with-benefits situation- at least from what they assumed. You don't know why you cared so much, he was such a rude guy, you hated him.

So why was he walking directly towards you on the Promenade while you were chatting with your new friend? About him nonetheless. Did you somehow summon him from that? You didn't even realize until they told you and pointed behind you. Your eyes went wide as they asked why he was coming over and you answered honestly. You didn't know why. He had a smug look on his face as he approached you, only then did you realize that Lute wasn't around. Wait, where was she? What's going on? Were you in trouble?

"Heya newbie, heard ya asking about me and Lute, really if ya wanted to fuck me could have just asked, Baby" Now panicking, your face burned as you waved your hands, denying that you ever asked about him. Why would you want to ever have sex with him? He's such an asshole. Wait, how did he know? Damn, those bastards must have told him. Even in heaven you can't trust anyone without it coming back to bite you in the ass

"No I didnt! And I certainly do not want to do that with you no way!" You were so flustered, why so flustered? Anyone hitting on you that you didn't find attractive made you feel disgusting, never flustered and warm. God- were you really finding the idea of fucking Adam hot? No, you were just a virgin who never got laid when they were alive so this is just too much, yeah that must be it. The angel just chuckled and smirked, he was such a bitch.

"Mhm sure Babe, why so flustered huh? C'mon admit it, you want a piece of THE Adam, THE first man, THE original dick. I see you avoiding me, don't think I don't. I know it's because I get ya worked up, don't I?" He suddenly leaned directly in front of your face, only being a few inches away. The close distance made you look over at your new friend, they just looked awkwardly and shrugged, not knowing how to help. Gulping, you turned back to him and took a deep breath.

"As if, in your dreams" You rolled your eyes and started to move away, feigning confidence, as on the inside you were shaking like a leaf. Before you could get far though, he wrapped his hand around your arm and pulled you back up to him, putting his free hand on your other arm. He held you close, so close you two were mixing open mouth breaths.

"Let me show you a good time Babe, you're a hot piece of ass I don't wanna pass up. And don't think I haven't noticed you staring at me too, you were practically eye fucking me!" Oh god, he really did notice every single thing about you? You thought he wasn't even paying attention to you as you stared at him, ok admittedly maybe you stared at him too much, but you hated him. Taking another gulp, you considered his offer. The fact that you were considering his offer at all concerned you, but maybe you should let go a little, get laid, you could say you fucked the first ever man in existence at least. Hyping yourself up, you said yes.

"Fine. BUT, only for one night. This will not become a normal thing! That is- if you're even good" The way his eyes lit up as he laughed from glee, screaming "yes" as he pumped a fist. He was such a child, you thought.

"You are going to have the BEST night of your life Toots, trust me. You will LOOOVE it, you'll be begging for me to fuck you every-" he leaned closer "single" and closer "night" and he leaned up and whispered in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Fuck- did that really arouse you? He didn't even do anything besides insist he was a good fuck and say you were hot unprompted. You hated him, he should not be making you feel this way. Pushing him away slightly, he "whooped" again and flew up in excitement, reminding you why you hated him. He acted like such a child, it was annoying. Coming back down, he smirked and got closer to you get again. He has no sense of personal boundaries, does he?

"You won't regret it Babes. My place. Tonight at dawn. Don't be late" Winking, he started to walk away when you realized you had no idea where his place was.

"Wait uh...where do you live?" You hated asking, hating you agreed to this ridiculous bet. He explained where it was and said he would have Lute bring you over. You make sure to say no at least ten times as that would be incredibly awkward. Sure, they fuck casually and aren't in a relationship, but its still not something you want to get directly involved with Lute for. But, he left and said to wait right here for her, leaving you alone with your new friend.

"Dude! You got a date with Adam!" They smiled and nudged your shoulder, ignoring the fact that you were processing the entire interaction and that it was happening tonight. Wait, what should you wear? No- this wasn't a date, it was just a hook up, that's all. Shaking your head, you looked back at them trying to calm down.

"Ok first of all, it isn't a date. It's just a one-night stand. There will be no other associations with him past tonight, ok? Besides, he's been...with Lute anyways so" Shrugging, you slowly start to calm your nerves or at least act like everything is fine.

"Wait...you're jealous, aren't you?" They excitedly exclaimed, causing you to grab onto their shoulders and shush them. You? Jealous? As if! This was just a quick fuck- you hated his guts, but couldn't resist knowing what sex with him was actually like.

"No, I am absolutely not. You know how much I hate him" You made sure to express your hatred every time you saw him, because you wanted them to know.

"Yeah, you've only been here for four days yet you don't shut up about him" They smirked, which caused your face to get hot again. Ok...maybe they did have a point. But it was all in hatred, not in thinking he's attractive in any way. Before you could argue this though, they seemingly read your mind.

"And no, if you think because you complain about him, it's denial" That was practically a slap in your face as you mulled over your time here since the first day. Could it really just be denial? But he was a huge asshole and very "college frat boy" to you. Did you really find him attractive and just didn't want to admit it?

"No it is not denial- I really do hate him. This is just to make him go away permanently" You convinced yourself, at least in the eyes of your friend, that there is no shred of attraction for Adam. How could there be? Any normal response to something like that would be to be flustered after all, taking about being fucked. But then again, it was unwarranted, so why did you kind of enjoy it? No- you're just being stupid. Did you already forget that you were in Heaven? This stuff would most likely cast you out of for this- but if Adam can act like this, why can't you?

"Ok then, fine, be in denial. But tell me, are you going to abandon this opportunity to get with the very first man ever created?" Sighing, you said no and told them you had to prepare for tonight as dawn was only come in a few hours and you had to mentally psych yourself up for it. They rolled their eyes playfully and said they'd meet up with you tomorrow so you can tell them everything. Heading to your new home, you mentally prepared yourself for this very unexpected night and trying not to worry about your friend calling it a "date".

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was dawn and your nerves were through the roof. Walking out to the Promenade again, a few were still out and about, but you stood in the exact same place he approched you earlier. Nervously twiddling your thumbs, you realized that there shouldn't be nervous or anxious- this was Heaven, everything was perfect and worry free. Was Adam already affecting you this badly? You didn't know how long it was until the familiar view of Lute walking down with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"Come with me" She spoke monotone, face unreadable, was she upset? I mean- it's not like they're actually a couple, unless she has some unrequited feelings? You were nervous as she weaved you through the various streets- some familiar and some not- and only then you realized that she was taking you to the center of Heaven. It didn't shock you- Adam was the first man in existence after all and the first human soul in Heaven. It made you nervous though, as you've never been there before. The only other beings that lived there was mainly Heavenborn. Nothing was spoken between you two until she pulled you close when you were in the hallway, a few feet away from the door.

"If you even THINK about hurting him- I will find you and cast you out of Heaven myself. Got it?" All you could do was nod as she shoved you to the door and then walked away. Taking a deep breath in, you exhaled slowly and knocked before you could walk away. A few seconds passed before the door was practically thrown open with a very excited Adam smiling at you.

"Fucking finally Babe! Took ya long enough. Let's get to fucking now" You gasped as he wasted no time and rushed you to his bedroom. Throwing you on his bed, he ripped off his mask and before you can process what his real face looked like- smashed his lips against yours, pinning you to the mattress with one hand- capturing you with your hands above your head- and the other at your sides. You didn't kiss back at first because it was so sudden, but then you started to kiss back. His huge garbs only pinned you down further as he started running his hands underneath your shirt. You lost track of time so you didn't know how long it was before he pulled back, panting heavily, you look at him as he stared at you with a hungry expression. He licked his lips as he looked at you like you were his prey, and he was the predator. Only then, you finally managed to see his face. He had short, brown hair, a stubble, and gold eyes. He was attractive even under the mask.

"Take..." You spoke quietly, not used to being the assertive one and too nervous to take action. Looking to the side you still felt unsure about all of this, I mean, you barely had action down on Earth. And this was Adam, first man, one of the head Angels, and he was just violently making out with you. You then felt his hand pry away from your chest and he grabbed your chin and lifted up your head to meet his.

"Take what, Bitch? You gotta tell me what you want" He smirked with a smug face as your face grew hot, you really did not want to say it. But...fuck it, right? This night was only for one night, might as well make it count.

"Take off your clothes" The burst of confidence was a surprise to you, but it pleased Adam very much as he kissed you again, but this time, it was a little softer than before.

"There it is, that's what I like to hear from Bitches I'm fucking" In no time, he stripped himself down to just his underwear- maybe to not fully overwhelm you at once? Your heart beat faster as you stared at his very hard dick covered by cloth, shit, this was really happening.

"Now let me take off your clothes, shits been annoying me for AGES. Your body is too hot to cover up" Only then what he was saying hit you like a train- did he really find you attractive even before? This entire time? He was just the one who wanted to let you make a move first? You let Adam fully undress you like he did you until you were just in your underwear. Gulping, you looked up as he pulled you into a sitting postion and crawled on top of your lap, running his hands up your arms as he started to kiss your neck. You could already feel yourself starting to get worked up- you tried to hold it in but a small moan escaped your mouth. Then, his hands drifted downwards- down to your underwear. He slips it under, lightly touching your clit, which caused you to jump from the sudden feeling.

"Damn Bitch, I barely fucking did anything and you're already fucking SOAKED. I'm gonna have a fun time with you tonight oh my fucking god" He laughed at the end as he started to gently prod your entrance and you shook in anticipation. Before you knew it- he pushed his finger in little by little, causing you to squirm from the intrusion. Whining, you felt it thrust in and out as the first man started to kiss and lap at your neck. He then added a second, causing you to moan and grab onto his back.

"You're definitely a fucking virgin aren't you? HA, don't think I can't tell Baby, I've fucked many before you and can tell when someone has or hasn't got a good dicking" His words cut though like a knife- of course he could tell, of course he's fucked countless of other people with how he behaves. You aren't special and will never be. That thought ended up being forgotten though, as he pulled out his now wet fingers covered in your juices, the feeling of being empty caused you to squirm again. He held up his slick appendages with his classic smug look before shoving them in his mouth. Making sure to lick them clean, he took them out of his mouth with a 'pop!'.

"Fucking delicious. Fuck I gotta taste the real thing" Adam got off of you and pulled up to the end of the bed, getting on his knees, he got closer to your crotch and you helped him take off your underwear. Feeling the air hit your pussy made you nervous as you were now almost fully naked for him and he was about to eat you out. Leaning back, you weren't ready as he dove in without wasting any time, you could feel his tounge enter you as he sucked on your clit. Moaning, you shook as he ate you out like he hasn't had anything to eat in a month. It felt so good, feeling his tongue wiggle inside you as he nipped on your clit, fuck.

"Adaaaaam..." You whined, now squirming, you felt the familiar pool of heat in your stomach as he sudeenlt latched onto your thighs, and he held them tight. Leaving your pussy, you watched as his face was covered in the slick juices as he stared at you with a slightly annoying expression.

"Stay still Bitch, kinda hard to eat you out when you're moving around" You just nodded in a slightly dazed state, not wanting to feel put off by his attitude. But, he went back down for seconds and you tried to stay still, even if it was incredibly hard. Everytime you made a sudden jerk, he gripped your thighs tighter. You couldn't resist as you couldn't grip the bedding very well, you rushed up to his hair and yanked on it, holding it so tightly. He moaned- you made him moan! He must have liked it, you had no time to think about it though as he just went deeper into you, causing you to moan his name again. After a few minutes, the feelings of arousal kept growing and the feelings in your stomach was too much to bare. You moaned out his name as you orgasmed, shaking as he wiped his face and licked up his mess. Standing up, he smirked as he pushed you down on the mattress again, caging you in. You just stared at him with wide eyes as you caught your breath.

"Damn, I knew you were a virgin but this is almost pathetic! Ha! Don't worry Bitch, it's time for you to be skewered by the original dick" Yanking off his underwear now, you couldn't see his dick very well, but you knew it couldn't have been small. Sliding you back so he had more room, he lifted up one of your legs and used his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance. Biting your lip, you stared up at him, still nervous that this was the one who took your virginity- in Heaven nonetheless. When he had the tip ready to plunge in, he looked up at you with a smirk, however, it quickly softened up even if just a little. Rubbing his hand on your leg, he wanted to make you feel...safe?

"Hey, if you're not up for it you don't gotta bang me yet Bitch. You can still back out now- even if you did scream my name like...twenty times" He must have seen your face and mistook it for being scared, which in all honesty you were, but that didn't mean you didn't want it. Reaching up to hold his face, you gave him the most genuine smile you could manage.

"No, no, I do want this I just...it's my first time, ya know?" He was the biggest manwhore around, he probably fucked thousands upon thousands of people in the past, he definitely fucked virgins before. Why did you even care? Why would HE care if you were nervous?

"Yeah, I get it Baby. I may have the best fucking dick in all existence, but I'm not into forcing others if they don't want it because that shit? Isn't cool. Unless they want to be forced- then that's hot as fuck. So, I am going to ask you" He leaned closer and his mouth was right next to your ear. "Do you want to be fucked into oblivion by the original dick? I need a yes or no Babe" His reassurance made you calm down as he could have just not cared like a lot of guys on Earth would. However, he made you shiver with his whispering and you nodded your head in agreement. He raised an eyebrow before you quickly sputtered out a "yes" and he smirked.

"Get ready for the BEST fucking night of your life. And welcome to Heaven, Bitch" The feeling of his dick entering your vagina was uncomfortable but not painful, he was being careful. Your breathing got heavier as he pushed in further, the feeling of being full wasn't unfamiliar as you fucked with toys as a human, but he was bigger than any dildo or vibrator you used. Whining the entire time as he slowly made you get used to him into you, you squirmed and grabbed his hair again and tugged. He moaned and growled and fuck it was hot.

"Fuck, keep doing that Babe and I'll fuck you so hard you'll have to stay in bed this entire week" He then bottomed out, fully pushing inside you until he couldn't no more. You screamed and your eyes started to water. Whining, you stared at the first man as he leaned down and gave you another passionate kiss as he started to thrust in and out. Moaning loudly, the sensations of his cock being dragged back and forth inside you was just too much- he was slow to help you ease into it. You tugged on his hair again and closed your eyes which made him push harder into you.

"Fuck!" Adam increased the pace and you felt the feelings of an orgasm creep up again the longer and harder he fucked you. You then felt his lips on yours as he kissed you again and you kissed back. It was too much- you broke away and screamed his name as you shook even more than the first time. You felt his cum leak into you as you spaced out, breathing heavily falling back on the bed. You stared up at the ceiling as you felt his cock exit you, causing you to cletch your now-empty vagina at the feeling. You couldn't even think right now- all you knew was that he was the real deal.

"Told you you'd have the best fucking night of your life Baby" You couldn't even respond as you were truly that far gone. You heard him laugh awkwardly and swear as he said he would be right back and you were too fucked out to care or fully process what that meant. Sometime later he came back, gently lifting you up into a sitting postion, he pressed a warm and wet rag to your nether regions and started to clean you up. His hesitance and awkward strokes makes it obvious he never did much aftercare, so why was he doing for you?

"I really fucked your brains out, huh? Well...stay the night with me, ok?" You looked at him with a shocked expression, who wouldn't? Half the time he spoke about the person he fucked like it was another casual day, he doesn't have time for his fuck to stay over and him and Lute are just sex with no intimate feelings attached.

"You haven't said a fucking word in what? Ten minutes? Just stay with me because I don't even think you can fucking walk right now, it's nothing special. I was right and you were wrong. Now get in bed Bitch, I'll wake you up tomorrow morning" You had no room to argue, still mentally out of it- you crawl back and into the covers. You were having trouble because your body was throughly fucked, so luckily Adam swooped in and helped you get comfortable. Laying on your side with a pillow between your legs, you were too tired to fully process that he wrapped around you and was swooning you.

"Goodnight Baby, see you tomorrow morning" You didn't register the small kiss he gave to the crown of your head as you fell asleep and had the best sleep of your life.

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Two

Summary - As the ways of the world shift, you find yourself torn between those who have always cared for you and the life you feel like you were made to live.

Warnings - some angst, mentions to past trauma, fluff

Part One

The crescent moon scars peered out from the neckline of your nightgown, still raised and angry, threatening to split open in the hope of having their former partners restored.

It wasn't often that they caused you pain, and if they did, you had learnt to live with it, but there was a knot twisting around the muscle there and every movement was causing you to hiss and wince. After you had managed to lift yourself out of bed, you stood braced against one of the posters of the frame, eyes closed and inhaling deeply to halt the contractions pulsing around the area and shooting down your spine.

A gentle knock pulled your attention, the swirling pain striking hard and threatening to send you crumpling to the ground, "What's wrong?" Azriel appeared at your side, no doubt hearing the deep breaths and audible whimpers from the other side of the door.

Azriel's room was across the hall from your own, a silly decision on Rhys' part when you thought about the complicated relationship you shared with the Shadowsinger. It wasn't odd for you to enter your room at any point of the day to find him splayed across your bed or sat by the window, he'd always liked the comfort of your room more than his own.

"There's a knot in my shoulder, I can feel it moving," Azriel nodded in understanding and led you to the bathroom at a pace that was comfortable to you, helping you to sit on the edge of the tub before moving to your medicine cabinet.

Azriel knew where everything was in your room, he knew exactly where you kept the expensive ointments and where you kept the cheaper ones that Cassian would 'borrow' from you unknowing to the fact that you knew full well that he took your things. All you needed to do was mutter what you wanted and his shadows would slither back and tell him, moments later he would return with the item and a warm smile on his lips.

Soon enough Azriel had returned to you, tub in hand and glancing to your clothed back, "Do you mind if I lower it a little?"

Shaking your head, you caught the straps of your gown before they fell too far and exposed your chest to him. Azriel's touch feathered over the scar, and he could clearly see the muscle spasming beneath the skin, you entire body convulsing along with it. It was usually Mor that tended to you in these situations, but you didn't mind Azriel helping at all, you had seen the most gruesome parts of one another. An angry muscle was nothing.

The cream was cold against your skin but you leaned into it and the owner of its appearance, Azriel's fingers worked meticulously, applying pressure in just the right place to bring you untold relief but also a surging amount of pain. Azriel apologised softly as his fingers worked their way into the muscle, rolling small circles into the skin and wincing with you as you hissed in pain.

"I know it hurts. I'm sorry," his shadows had flowed over your shoulders, hugging themselves around your neck and purring softly in your ear.

Azriel always tried his best to be mindful of your loss, going as far as to tuck his large wings behind him as much as possible when you were around despite you telling him that it wasn't an issue. It was obvious how much you missed them from when you looked at his wings, or Cassian's, or Rhys', even Feyre and Nyx weren't safe from your gaze.

A few more minutes went by of Azriel's fingers rubbing into your skin and you weren't in pain anymore, it had floated away in the abyss and you exhaled from your mouth as his hands came to rest atop your shoulders, "Thank you."

"Of course," he glanced about the bathroom, "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"I should be fine, thank you."

The touch of his fingers were still on your bare shoulders and you could feel his gaze trailing down the thick waves of your messy morning hair to the large scars carved into your shoulders. Warmth spread across your skin as his digits lay unmoving on you and you turned your head to the side to capture his gaze, “Is everything alright?”

Pulling him from his trance, Azriel cleared his throat and took a step backward, bumping into the jagged edge of the tub with a dull thump, “Fine. Everything is fine,” it didn’t go unnoticed by you how his shadows had restrained his wings, pinning them behind his back, but before you could tell him to stop, to not hide from you, he had spoke, “I should go. Rhys is sending me on a mission with Nesta.”

You stood, pulling the thin strings of your nightgown back over your shoulders as you faced him, “You and Nesta?” Your voice echoed in the large bathroom, rattling against the windowpanes that were begging to be opened to allow the sweet sonnet of Velaris to reach you, “Why both of you?”

“I can’t say,” he couldn’t say? Or he didn’t know? “I just wanted to come and say goodbye.”

“And to tell me to watch my mouth whilst you’re gone?”

Azriel smirked, “That too,” he wound his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, swaying softly with you in his arms, “I’ll be back soon.”

Cedar was consuming you and you swayed with him, eyes fluttered closed and enjoying the contact of his arms around you, “Be careful,” it was all you could say to make him aware that you cared, he knew that too.

Pulling back from you slightly, he looked down on you, running his thumb along the curve of your jaw, “Always am,” he pressed his lips to your forehead, where your hair met the skin, and paced from the room, his shadows fighting to stay back for one more moment with you.

It was no coincidence that Rhys had decided to send both Azriel and Nesta on a joint mission, the two people closest to you suddenly being ordered away from the Night Court. Away from you. It was unsettling to say the least. Rhys had been keeping a wary eye on you since the morning Eris had left a few days ago, he had noticed how Eris had lingered around you that night at dinner, how the High Lord had unknowingly dressed in the same colours as you, and he didn’t like it one bit.

It felt like punishment, to force you into solitude for aiding Eris at that meeting. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy spending time with the rest of your family, or that you didn’t like them, it’s just that Azriel and Nesta understood you in the deepest way possible, from the intricate ticking of your mind, to your wit, to the abuse you had suffered and the darkness that lingered inside of your soul, tainting it with its inky mist.

The entirety of Prythian, whilst they knew of you, wouldn’t be able to pick you out in a crowd if it weren’t for your telltale eyes. It was always something that had bothered you, why exactly were you so hidden, like forbidden fruit born from a poison oak. To look at but never touch, to never be intrigued by, to never interact with unless they wished death upon themselves.

You were the last resort, the one Rhys would call upon if there was no other option. At first you believed it was because he truly wanted to keep you out of harms way, to protect you and the future of the court, but as time ticked away, it became glaringly obvious that protecting you wasn’t the reason for it at all.

Rhys was supposed to be the most powerful High Lord that Prythian had ever seen.

What would people think when they saw you, his lesser than sister unworthy of any true title, possessing power that even he found unfathomable?

Sure, Rhys could mist a portion of an army away with a lift of the finger, but you could decimate entire battlefields without even blinking if you so wished it. It wasn’t information he wanted to be common knowledge, so it wasn’t.

The reflection in the mirror was the perfect rendition of the mask you had worn your entire life, soft, elegant, naive, unknowing, it disguised the raging wildfire that consumed you daily, that begged to be unleashed, to devour the world in your fury and conform anyone who stood against you to ash.

A practiced smile fell onto your lips, your hands were neatly folded atop your form fitting plum purple skirt, and your shoulders dropped with a sigh. In that moment, as you stood before your reflection, dressed in fitted fabric of onyx and purple, did you realise how much better you looked in red.

The library had always been your sanctuary, perhaps that was the reason you and Nesta had become so close. She too sought out the comfort that only the library could provide, maybe it was the smell of worn parchment or the faint aroma of oak from the sturdy shelves, maybe it was how the light trickled through the stained glass windows or the comfort of the deep seated armchairs. Whatever it was, it definitely owned a part of you, of you both.

Nesta had found herself idly glancing at the titles on the shelves, it was the week after she had been Made, and one of the first moments she had left her bedroom since finding herself in Velaris. The eldest Archeron sister knew little of you, so little in fact that she didn’t realise you were Rhys’ sister until you told her.

You’d found Nesta in one of the many hidden pews of books, clutching a particular title between your fingers, she had looked awful back then with her hallowed cheeks and sickly pale skin, and she had commented on your inability to announce yourself, and you had told her that she better watch how she spoke to you in your home. Of course that meant that you would become close friends.

Silence swirled about you, a room that was usually rife with Nesta’s sharp humour and chatter about the books you had swapped with her was nothing but a wistful memory.

The library was off limits to everyone bar you and Nesta who came and went as you pleased, other members of the inner circle had to ask for special permission to enter the sanctuary you had made for yourselves. It was an uninterrupted space, a place of harmony and exploration.

Which is exactly why you scowled when you saw Lucien sat in your usual seat with his legs propped atop the vintage coffee table, sifting through pages of a random book he had removed from its perch without giving it much attention or care.

“Care to explain what you’re doing here, Lucien?”

Lucien glanced up at you then, cocking his head to the side and examining you. His mechanical eye whirred, filling the space, as his gaze narrowed in on you, “You look better in red,” his eyes moved to the space behind you which led to the open hallway with walls adorned with various portraits, namely one of yourself that Rhys had commissioned before the happenings of Amarantha, midnight purple wings and all; Lucien silently beckoned you inside with his stare and you closed the doors behind your entrance with a soft click.

Floating to the nearest open seat, a plush black armchair opposite him which homed a red wine velvet cushion, you waved your fingers and the atmosphere fell dense, “You can speak freely,” a shimmer clung to the air like speckles of glistening starlight, and Lucien knew that if anyone were to enter in search of you that they wouldn’t see anything but an empty room before their eyes.

Glamoured.

Lucien was by no means an unpleasant male to look at, he shared so many aspects with Eris, the elder brother than you could see in Lucien’s fire red hair and russet eyes, in his chiselled cheekbones and golden skin, even in the distant surveying glint in his eye. You didn’t know much about the Vanserra brother that resided in your city, but from what Feyre had told you, Lucien was trustworthy, one of the few males in the land she would always be able to count on.

Reaching into the back pocket of his deep brown briefs, Lucien held a piece of parchment before your narrowed eyes, turning it over in his fingers whilst contemplating whether or not to give it to you. Lucien knew little of you, only fragments of you from what Elain had told him in passing, but he had a feeling that you were much more than what you appeared to be. Such was obvious from the subtle notes he picked up from watching you converse with Eris a few evenings prior.

The parchment was rough under his touch, calloused paper that was singed at the edges. Lucien hadn’t dared to open it when it had appeared under his mug that morning with your name intricately scribed onto the folded surface, instead awaiting for his own note to appear, which it had moments later with strict instructions to make sure the note reached you no matter what.

“This is from Eris,” you sat up straighter in your seat, the once unbothered and passive stare now replaced with one of excited intrigue. He smirked.

Lucien held out the parchment to you, and you were ashamed at how fast you rose from your seat to claim it from your fingers. It smelt of him, of autumn pine and cinnamon, the same scent that had lingered on your skin since the morning he had left.

You sent him a sidelong glare and tried to keep your features as trained and neutral as possible, holding it lax in your fingers like you weren’t itching to flip it open and read away, “You know that Rhys would nail your balls to the wall if he knew you were giving this to me?”

Lucien hummed, grinning at you, “Yes. But something tells me that he’s not going to find out.”

Damn Lucien Vanserra and his keen eye, and damn you for allowing a sliver of your true nature to shine through for him to see.

Deep down you were a young girl in love with the idea of fated mates, of true love and happiness, of bright tomorrows and forevers, and it taken a lot of darkness to try and squash that hope that lingered within your soul. Centuries of believing that your power and name made you unlovable, to be feared only.

“What makes you think that?”

Lucien cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down, confirming to himself that there was no way that you would tell a soul, not even Nesta, “That hope I just saw in those eyes,” he rose from his seat and approached your position, “Perhaps it’s time for you to wake up,” he spoke in a tone that indicated that he knew something that you didn’t, many things actually.

Casting his gaze downward at the beautiful cursive rendition of your name, he spoke, “Write your response and will it back to him, it will dissipate into ash in your fingers and float to him in the wind.”

“Why have you delivered this?”

Lucien shrugged, “So many questions,” his voice trailed off, shoving his hands deep into his pockets he stepped toward the door, “Because y/n,” he turned from you, talking to you over his shoulder, “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever seen Eris be so openly kind to, do you know how hard it is for him to apologise about anything?”

Then he was done, and the moment he stepped out into the hallway the glamour dropped and you shivered at the sensation of it.

The portrait of you stared at him and he stopped before it, drinking in the beauty of the starlit backdrop and your wildfire ringed orbs that cut through the darkness like a beacon of enveloping safety. Lucien glanced back to you, noting how you stood in the room peering down at the parchment, turning it over in your hands and thinking about whether or not it was a good idea to indulge the new High Lord, “Life has its challenges, y/n. It’s up to you to decide if they’re worth the struggle.”

He spoke from knowledge, of his own truth, “Were they worth it to you?”

Lucien smiled fondly, no doubt casting his mind to his beautiful mate that breathed life back into his weathering essence, “Very much so.”

It had taken a lot of back and forth mental arguments to bring yourself to open Eris’ note. There was a delicious foreboding about it all that made it all the more tempting, Rhys would lose the reigns of his consciousness and submit himself to his own darkness if he knew.

But Lucien was right, there was no way that you were going to tell him.

With your heartbeat thundering in your chest, you slipped your thumb between the fold and flipped the note open.

Eris’ writing wasn’t as you thought it would be, you were expecting messy handwriting with little personable tone to the words, but how wrong you were, how wrong you were when you could hear that sultry whisky deep voice linger in every neatly curved word you read.

I apologise for putting you in the position of keeping something from your family, but I had to speak to you, and this is the only way I can.

Allowing your gaze to linger on the words, the paper rustled in the breeze from the open window, like Eris had sent the element to give you a little nudge. Reaching for a pen, you scribed your reply, watching the paper engulf in contained flame and the ash dance away in the wind, just as Lucien had said.

It’s not just yourself that you’re putting in danger. Poor Lucien for becoming entangled in another scandal.

A moment passed, and another piece of parchment appeared in your lap doused in his scent.

Any danger is worth even a mere second of your time.

Even if it means pissing off the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history?

Even then. But we both know that Rhysand isn’t the most powerful, don’t we Fawn?

Butterflies pulsed in your stomach at the name, you were by no means a fawn, but the sincere softness of it made your heart clench.

If you’re alluding to yourself then I’m afraid you’re severely mistaken, High Lord.

The paper vanished, reappearing again moments later and you could have sworn you could see Eris tucked away in the office of Fir Manor, dressed in an unbuttoned shirt and forest green briefs, hair tousled and smirking into the air with a quill resting between his digits.

This is perhaps the one and only time where I will happily be mistaken… and please, it’s Eris.

Do I not threaten you?

Should you?

You thought about it, there wasn’t a bone in your body that wished to be feared or appear as threatening, it was the role you had grown into, the one you had always played with little say in it, and it was like he knew that.

No, I shouldn’t.

The paper vanished and you waited a stretch for it to return, confiding yourself to staring at the starlit skies beyond the window and wonder where exactly Nesta and Azriel had been sent off to.

Where would Rhys have sent them? And why couldn’t Azriel tell you about it? Did he even know himself what the aim of his mission was? Did Nesta? Why had he chosen the two people closest to you and knowingly left you without someone to lean on?

I see the mask you wear. I see what it’s done to you. You’ve worn it for so long that you feel lost within it, as though the mask has consumed your light. I want to tell you to let the fire burn, to be yourself is the greatest gift you could ever give.

Who knew that the fox could speak with sentiment?

And, like you could hear the earthy chuckle through the inked words, you could practically hear him say,

There are many things that you don’t know about me, Little Fawn. Perhaps one day I’ll let you close enough to find out.

The ghost of his voice lingered around you, like faint whispers of a lover at sunrise.

No, you wouldn’t tell Rhys, or anyone for that matter about the oh so wrong pit burying itself into your gut, or about your nerves prickling with flaming desire.

Blood and loyalty be damned.

Authors Note

Hope you love this x

Feedback is, as always, appreciated

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh

[mvltisstuff]

hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot with evan buckley where reader is having a horrible time and asks to come over but once they do they attempt to undress buck and have (ya know) with him but he realizes like right after his shirt was taken off that reader is trembling and shaking.

maybe it’s because of a fight with their sibling or something but it ends with him just holding them until they fall asleep and he’s all like “i’m gonna marry them.”

OFC you can take this into a whole different route!! thank you so much in advance!

in for it - e.b

summary: when y/n gets hot, and especially bothered, buck has to figure out why.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: hi!! again, so sorry for how delayed this is, but i hope its still enjoyed for those willing to read :))

buck and y/n had been texting all day, shooting each other suggestive messages and flirty little remarks. buck knew he was in for a treat when he got home, considering all of the bold things his girl had said to him throughout his shift.

however, that was not the case. when he returned home, he called out for y/n, but got no response. he got slightly worried, but y/n's a big girl, she knows what she's doing. he placed his bags down by the front door and pulled out his phone.

Hey, just got home. Everything good?

Yeah. I'm on my way home

he obviously believed her, he has no reason to not trust her. so, he took a beer out of the fridge and went to go sit on the couch and wait for her.

when he heard the doorknob twist, he got a familiar feeling of excitement he always knew when y/n would come home. he heard her kick her shoes off and throw her bag down. it sounded louder than normal, so she must've been really excited to come home to him.

when she came over, she threw her jacket on one of the chairs, leaving her in jeans and a white tank top. she looked as beautiful as always, never needing to dress up for buck because anything she wore was pure fashion in his eyes.

"hey, sexy," buck flirted as she walked over to him. she instantly grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto hers. he could smell the wine on her breath and the taste of it on her tongue. her hands wandered around his neck, slightly gripping onto it. he could feel her racing heart against his own chest, almost faster than he has ever felt it. "how were things at joes?"

her fingers quickly ran down to the hem of his t-shirt, tucking underneath and starting to pull it up. right before the fabric covered his eyes, he took note of y/n's red eyes and furrowed brows with her jaw tight. "fuck him." she spat out after his face was out. he looked her directly in the eyes as her hands continued to wander down to his crotch.

her fingers twitched against his belt as she struggled to unbuckle it, and her breath became more hitched. her face had not changed expression, like she only wanted to get this over with. when she would take her hands away, the only thing buck could notice was her shaking.

'wait, wait-" buck starts. "slow down for a sec."

"are you not hard?"

"well, i was, because im always hard with you, but not anymore. i can't be when you're so visibly upset."

"i'm not upset," she murmurs under her breath, down on her knees in front of him.

"and im not blind, baby," he grabs onto her side and pulls her onto his lap. "tell me whats wrong."

"he acts like i owe him everything. he acts like i do nothing for our parents and he doesn't even want me as his sister. why do i always have to make everyone happy?"

"but you need to be happy first."

"he doesn't care."

"is that an explanation for why you tried to suck me off while being so pissed?"

"i thought i'd start with making you happy," she tells. "and you love blowjobs."

buck chuckles while running a hand down her back. "but you make me the happiest. and he's a douche. you deserve more as a sister and a daughter."

y/n grins at him, her body starting to calm down against his. "thank you. you make me happy, too."

"of course, angel," buck leans back to get a better look at the beautiful girl on his lap. "we can keep going if you want, but you look tired."

"i am, but i want you to be satisfied."

"i will be fully satisfied taking you upstairs, getting changed, pouring us more wine, and laying with you all night."

"are you sure?"

"i will spend the rest of my life assuring you that that is all i ever need from you."

she places a more gently hand on his cheek, pecking him on the lips and pulling away with a smile. "i love you."

"i love you, too." he taps her hip with his finger. "now, go put on our show and change, and ill go get the pinot gris."