#you can really tell i still don’t fucking know how to draw him i’m fighting it out

[flayyr]

yeah he disgusts me so bad i can’t draw him rihgt

[rafesangelita]

so anyway I was thinking about something about bitchy!Kook!reader (since she's my ultimate favorite)

maybe rafe has gifted her a promise ring at some point in their relationship, and despite all their highs and lows, even in their worst nights, she has NEVER taken it off

and maybe they are in a heated argument and they're mad at each other (but not broken up, just mad) and they are attending a party and he notices that she isn't wearing it, so he loses his absolute shit and drags her somewhere, making a scene and telling her how much he cares about her (in his own way, ofc) and how hurt he is until she simply smirks and tells him that she's taken it off because she's getting it cleaned up

-🦉

warnings: arguing, slight angst, light fluff

a/n: join my private community for girly talks! ♡ you can comment under this post, send me a message, or leave something in my ask box for an invitation!

“can you fix your face? ‘at least try to act like you want to be here with me right now?” rafe whispered in your ear, a slight pinch of irritation lacing his tone. you swallowed thickly, flashing him a glare as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders so he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention towards you two. “i told you i wanted to leave a long time ago and instead of wrapping things up, you disappeared for another drink. i’ve been sitting here on this couch with you for over two hours now, listening to your idiot friends talk about their latest escapades. how about you fix your fucking face?”

rafe looked around to make sure no one caught any of the words that just left your mouth, his jaw clenching as he gripped you by the back of your neck. “is that how you’re gonna act right now? that’s what we’re doing?” at this, you trailed a hand down rafe’s stomach, your nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him hiss and let go of you. “grab me like that again and i’ll leave your ass in front of everybody.” rafe knew that wasn’t an empty threat, considering you’ve already done it before and topper still hasn’t let him live the embarrassment down.

rafe gave you a curt nod, his eyes raking down your form before they rested on your bare fingers. “what the fuck?” he spoke out loud, the group conversation coming to a halt. without another word, rafe got up, dragging you along with him as he guided you two outside to his truck. “oh, now you wanna go home?” you scoffed, managing to pull away from him before he hoisted you into the passenger’s seat, his body wedged between the door as he took ahold of your hands. “i know we’ve been fighting a lot recently, and i’m sure we get on each other’s nerves all the time, but taking off your ring? are you fucking serious?”

your eyebrows knitted in confusion, your mouth barely opening before rafe started going on a rampage. “i bought you that ring to uphold a promise to you, y/n, and i’ve kept it. through all of our bullshit, through all of our problems, through damn near everything; you’ve never taken that ring off. even when we were close to leaving each other once and for all, you were still wearing it. that ring saved us, and now? you’re just giving up like that?” rafe sounded pained, his voice dropping slightly as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. “rafe—” you tried to interject again, but still he continued.

“i love you, and i know i fucking suck at showing it, but you know i do. you’re the only person who puts up with my shit and still loves me as i am. you work with me even though i make it really hard, and you don’t throw my mistakes in my face every chance you get. you’re patient with me when i least deserve it.. i could go on and on about everything you do for me.. please just put your ring back on.” you weren’t expecting rafe to pour his heart out to you, your anger from earlier dissipating into nothing as your gaze softened. “i can’t—” rafe groaned, kneeling down onto the step bar of the truck as he held your hands to his chest.

“why?!” you couldn’t help but laugh, your resolve crumbling as rafe looked up at you desperately. “what’s so funny? i’m literally about to have a panic attack right now.” you laughed harder, shaking your head. “rafe, i’m getting my ring cleaned! i’ve been trying to tell you since you dragged me out here but you kept interrupting me.” your boyfriend let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders falling in relief. “when did you take it?” you helped him off his knees, rolling your eyes as he pulled you into his embrace. “remember, i told you i was going to the mall with chanel? i dropped it off there and i’m supposed to go back for it tomorrow..”

rafe nodded, his hands running up and down your back. “well, we better get you another ring for when you’re getting the other one cleaned. i can’t have you giving me heart attacks like that.”

[moonstruckme]

love of my life, queen of all things smut and marauders..........I have a request if you don't mind 😈 I was thinking of this with Sirius, but it could truly be whoever you think fits. But what do you think of a fic where reader x Sirius have sex for the first time (FWB, relationship, whatever fits the vibe), and Sirius finishes and moves his attention to reader who goes "oh it's alright, I've never been successful at that part of sex before...." & then it becomes this fun challenge for Sirius who spends the rest of the evening finding out what works for her until he finally gets her off 😃 xoxoxoxooxoxoxo

Thanks for the request and for weathering the long wait gorgeous Elle <3

cw: smut mdni, reader is afab and has trouble with orgasming

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Fuck.” Sirius’ forehead crashes into yours, his breath hot on your lips. “Are you close?” 

“You should come.” Your voice is tight, strained, though not nearly so much as his. 

“Not before you.” 

“Please, Sirius.” You both moan as he thrusts deeper inside you, your legs squeezing tight around his middle. “Please, I want you to.” 

“I don’t—shit.” 

His brow tenses along with the rest of him as he spills into you. You feel the condom fill up with a heady satisfaction. You run your hands up his back soothingly, until he relaxes into you. 

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Sirius tilts his face to kiss at the slope of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would…you just feel too good, have you gotten that complaint before?”

You laugh. “It’s not usually a complaint.” 

“No, but in this case…” He tuts, picking his head up to look at you. You expect to be self-conscious—it’s your first time seeing each other like this, and part of you is still fighting the urge to cover up and preserve your modesty—but the heavy drag of his gaze only makes you feel admired. “Well, anyways, sorry. How close are you?” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You smile at him. Your finger traces the line of a tattoo on his bicep. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun.” 

Sirius blinks, and then his brows come down. “Hold on, that’s not fair. I want to get you off.” 

“Sirius, it’s really fine. I’m not…” You hesitate. You and Sirius have been friends for a while; it’s not as though you haven’t shared secrets before. And given what you’ve just shared with each other, you shouldn’t probably be embarrassed, but… “I haven’t exactly been…successful at that part of sex before.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as though he doesn’t quite understand what you mean. 

“I haven’t come,” you clarify. 

His eyes widen, lips parting. It’s horrendously attractive, worse with him still inside you. “You haven’t?” 

You shake your head. 

“Not ever?” 

You shake your head again. 

“Not even by yourself?” 

“Let’s just assume the answer to all of these questions is going to be no.” He shifts in you slightly, and you squirm. “Can you…?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Sirius pulls out of you, looking somewhat awed. “So, forgive me, but what exactly are you getting out of this if you don’t expect to come?” 

You give him a droll look. “I guess I’m just a giver.” 

It’s more true than you let on. You enjoyed yourself more than you expected just now, watching Sirius come, knowing it was the sight of you and the feel of your flesh under his hands that did it. You hope he lets you do it again.

“I don’t have to come to have good sex,” you say in a more genuine tone. “It’s still fun for me.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, but—” 

“Listen, I’m only telling you so you don’t take it personally. It’s not a you thing, it’s just…” You gesture helplessly. “I’m not sure I can.” 

Sirius looks indignant. “I’m sure you can.” 

“I haven’t found any proof.” 

“Well, it’s—there’s a first time for everybody, doll. Can I try?” 

You sit up, drawing your legs closer and forcing him to sit back. “I told you, it’s not you.” 

“It could be me, though.” He grins roguishly. 

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. “Don’t make this a pride thing.” 

“I’m not. I’m not, babe.” Sirius scoots towards you. He looks at you, sincere. “But it could be any number of factors, you know? Maybe you just haven’t tried the right thing, or there’s a lubrication issue, or something. It would be fun to try.” 

You rub your lips together. “It’d probably be a waste of time. And I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.” 

“I won’t be,” he promises. He crawls toward you on the bed, taking your ankle in hand to tug you closer. Your heart riots at the sight. “Let’s waste some time, gorgeous. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight. And you said you have fun even if you don’t finish, right?” 

“Right,” you admit. 

Sirius grins, flashing canines. “Lay back, then. Let me play with you a while.” 

It doesn’t take long to figure out that lubrication is not the issue. Between Sirius’ hands and his mouth, you’re spilled like warm honey across his sheets in minutes. He bites marks into your thighs, goes from gentle to masochistic to gentle again with his hands on your breasts, curls his fingers inside you so that you make sounds you don’t recognize. All the while, he calls you sweet names rolled up in taunts, making your cheeks burn and your body seem to give up any will of its own. It begins to feel cruel; the combination of who Sirius is and what he can do to you.

But it’s when he uses his tongue that you start to tremble. 

Your hand clamps blindly down on his shoulder, caught between keeping him close and pushing him away. Sirius’ hum, heavy with smugness and intrigue, is a vibration like you’ve never felt before. He takes your clit into his mouth. 

It’s altogether too much and not enough. You shift your hips, gasping, but after a while your breaths even into a steadier pant. You start to adjust to this new pleasure. Just when you think you’ve got it under control, you’re safe, Sirius slips his wicked fingers into your entrance again. 

“There you are.” His voice thrums with satisfaction as he kisses your clit. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. So patient.” 

“Sirius, I—”

“What?” 

“I feel—” 

“What, pretty girl?” 

“Sirius.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” He nibbles ever so gently at your clit, making you jolt away from him. Your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re just so much fun when you’re worked up like this, I can’t help myself.” 

He curls his fingers into that torturous spot along your inner wall, and what you want isn’t more sensation, but you can no longer find the words to tell him so. You dig your nails into Sirius’ shoulders and squeeze your eyes shut, feeling on the precipice of something great and terrible. Some kind of wreckage. 

“You’re okay, doll,” Sirius soothes. “You’re just fine. You like this, don’t you? Don’t you want to come?” 

With his low, sweet question, you do. You wreck like a ship against the shoreline. Splintering, screaming, crashing and drowning. Sirius laughs like the enemy vessel as you do.

It’s some time later when the stars clear from behind your eyes. You let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.” 

“Mhm. That’s usually how it goes.” Sirius is all tenderness now. He kisses up your sweaty, overworked abdomen until he reaches your collarbone, where he nibbles rewardingly. “Good job, sweetness. And good job me, if I do say so myself.” 

You open your eyes to peek at him through your lashes. “Aren’t I supposed to say so?” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Fairly sure you just did. I wouldn’t have guessed you had sounds like that in you.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Well, now I’ve got something new to work towards, I suppose.” 

“Sirius,” you sigh. “That was the first time I’ve ever come, and it took nearly an hour. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do that again.” 

“Oh, such a defeatist.” Sirius cups your face in his hands, thumbs moving sweetly down your cheeks as he presses a firm kiss to your lips. “I meant getting those sounds out of you again. But don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll manage both.”

[tgms]

sucker punch — kaji ren

you’ve never been the type to pick random fights with your boyfriend. unfortunately for him, this wasn’t just a random fight. (wc: 0.9k)

“i can’t do it anymore,” your voice broke the silence in the room. kaji, on the verge of sleep, stirs awake from his sprawled out position on his bed.

“…huh?” he asked after a minute of trying to process what you were saying.

“i can’t do it anymore, ren,” you repeated, pulling away from him and sitting up. he followed suit, slowly sitting up and pulling his sleep shirt back down to cover his exposed abdomen. “you always tell me to come over and end up doing this shit.”

“what shit? fuck you talkin’ about?” he grumbled back, traces of sleep slowly leaving his system.

“you know damn well what i’m talking about. we talked about it yesterday. i’m tired, too!” you whined, head lolling back and resting against the wall.

still confused as to what you were going on about, kaji remained silent as he racked his brain on what he could’ve done to illicit this reaction from you.

was it when he ate the last of your favorite flavor chupa chup? or maybe last week when he was twenty minutes late in picking you up? but if he were to think really, really hard on what he could’ve done to make you upset to the point of waking him up, he draws a blank.

“wait, can you-” he paused, lifting a hand up to squeeze his temples. “at least explain why you’re mad. can’t read your damn mind.”

“and i’m saying you should already know! don’t play with me, kaji ren,” you huffed out, arms crossed in front of your chest. “i can’t believe you. you never listen.”

“you serious right now?” he shot back, anger steadily rising. he took a breath, trying to find his composure before he snapped and made whatever he did worse. “don’t call me like that, either. y’know i don’t like that shit.”

“oh, i’m so sorry, baby. that better for you?” you snarled sarcastically, your own hostility rising in response. you scooted back farther away from him, legs uncrossing and feet now touching the floor. “i think i’m just gonna go home.”

kaji groaned, head falling back against the wall. “‘m not telling you to leave. can you just tell me what the problem is so i can fix it ‘nd we can go back to sleep?”

you shot another scalding glare in his direction, mumbling something under your breath that he couldn’t quite hear, but he’s pretty sure he caught something along the lines of asshole and i’ll show him. you stopped moving away and even brought your legs back up to the bed. but kaji’s eyes almost bugged out of his head when he noticed you pulling your (his) shirt up over your head.

“the fuck are you doing? ‘m not fucking you right now,” despite seeing all of that and more before, he respectfully slapped a hand over his eyes at the unexpected show of skin. he peaked through his fingers at your silence, hand falling when he noticed the light purple marks blooming on your torso.

you crawled closer to him, kneeling between his spread legs and pointing at the bruises littering your skin. “see this? i told you—”

“who did it?” kaji cut you off, voice low and eyes ready to kill. a rough hand came up to slowly trace the marks on your side. “tell me who did this and i’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.”

“go die then!” you hollered back at him. “been trying to tell you for the past week! i can’t sleep with you anymore, shit hurts!”

kaji stayed focused on the purple blotches, calloused fingers lightly running over them. “what’s that s’posed to mean? fuck does sleeping gotta do with this?”

“god, how many times have i said this already?” you rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest again. he couldn’t help the way his eyes zeroed in on your chest at the movement. “you keep kicking and punching in your sleep, stop having me come over if you can’t lay still!”

his hands stopped tracing over the bruises, retracting until they rested on his thighs. he wouldn’t look up at you, bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. “…i did that?”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “either get a bigger bed or come over to mine instead. it’s always come over and never on my way. and my room’s cuter than yours! i wanna sleep, too,” you whined, anger dissipating in waves at his lack of a response.

kaji started mumbling quietly, and no matter how close you brought your face to his you couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth.

you didn’t press though, opting to lean back on your heels and stare at him expectedly.

“‘m sorry,” he let out after a few more minutes of silence, head dropping forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. “never meant to hurt you.”

his arms came up to wrap themselves around you, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his. promises of won’t do it again and pleads of don’t go murmured into your bare skin.

you brought your own arms around his body, fingers running up and down his back, heart softening at his genuineness. you felt him shift and jostle you around in his lap, but his grip on you never loosened up, even when you heard tapping from behind your back.

“what’re you doing?”

“…buying a new bed.”

notes: is my characterization ass omfg. lmk your thoughts!

[solarmorrigan]

oooh. fic requests! how about 6 - fight or 19 - allergies for steddie?

Hello! I'm sorry it took so long to get to this one, but I hope it's alright! I went with:

6. Fight - Steddie

cw: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced domestic violence, unhealthy relationship dynamics (not between Eddie and Steve)

-

The most frustrating thing about fighting with Steve is that he doesn’t fight. Not really.

Sure, he’ll poke and he’ll prod and he’ll snip and he’ll snap; he’ll dole out bitchy, passive aggressive comments and roll his eyes and sigh pointedly, but the moment things get heated, the moment an argument gets real, it’s just–

“Fine. Fine,” Steve snaps, tossing his hands up with an exasperated huff. “You’re right, okay? I’m– I’m sorry.”

And at first, Eddie had always felt so vindicated, so flush with the triumph of winning an argument, that it had taken him a while to realize that it felt– wrong. That Steve—so confident, so sure in his opinions, so willing to stand up to people when he has something to defend—would just give in without a fight– it feels wrong.

So Eddie had tried to pay attention – really pay attention. They don’t fight often, but when an argument inevitably does crop up, Eddie always wins. Rather, Steve always lets him. He never raises his voice, never gets in Eddie’s face, never really even makes counterarguments. He cedes to Eddie’s points and then subsides and it’s– it’s infuriating, because Eddie doesn’t understand.

“Don’t do that,” Eddie growls, tugging a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Don’t– what? Don’t apologize?” Steve asks incredulously.

“No!” Eddie bursts out. “Not if you don’t mean it!”

“Excuse me?” Steve draws back, offended. “What the hell do you want me to do to prove I’m sincere? Get on my knees and fucking grovel?”

“That’s not–” Eddie leaves off with a frustrated noise, trying hard to keep his tone level. “I don’t want to win an argument just because you let me. I don’t want you to apologize just because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

“I’m not letting you win,” Steve says quickly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You are, though. You do. Every time. You won’t actually engage, you just say I’m right and then clam up and that’s it,” Eddie says.

Steve levels him with a look of disbelief. “So– what, you want me to yell at you? You want me to tell you that you’re wrong?”

“I want–” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a second to gather his thoughts. “I want you to feel like you’re allowed to argue with me. I don’t want you to just give in and then resent me or something.”

“I don’t resent you, Eddie,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.

“No?” Eddie pushes. “How many times have we gone to bed after an argument with me perfectly satisfied, thinking I’ve won, while you’re actually still mad at me?”

“That’s– I don’t…” Steve shifts uncomfortably. “If I’m still mad, that’s my problem. I can just get over it.”

“But that’s exactly what I mean!” Eddie insists. “That shit builds up! And besides, what if you’re the one who’s really right? I might actually be wrong, and you should tell me. Or maybe there’s some kind of, like, compromise we can reach, I don’t know! I don’t want you to be afraid to push back – I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Steve says, jaw jutting out stubbornly when Eddie fixes him with a considering look. “I’m not. I’m just– how long before yelling turns into a screaming match? How long before it turns into throwing shit around, or– or shoving each other, or worse?”

“Steve…” Eddie murmurs, the last of his heated frustration draining away, leaving a clammy kind of dismay in its place. “Steve, I would never do any of those things to you.”

“I know,” Steve says, and it sounds like he means it. “I know that. But what if I–”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, because he thinks he understands now – Steve isn’t afraid of him, he’s afraid of himself. Afraid of turning into everything he’d been raised around: the blowout arguments between his parents, his mom’s petty destruction of his dad’s things, his dad’s frustration turned back on Steve, a cycle of violent familial bullshit that Steve is determined to break free from, even if it means saying that he’s wrong every time. Eddie comes forward, grabbing Steve’s hands; he can’t even remember what they’d been arguing about moments before, but he knows he doesn’t care anymore. “You would never do that. I know you, Steve, you are nothing like that.”

Steve looks down at their joined hands, blinking rapidly. “This– you… You’re more important than winning. Than any stupid argument,” he says.

“That’s exactly why we should have stupid arguments,” Eddie says, grinning a little when that gets a choked laugh out of Steve. “I’m serious. Let’s have stupid, petty arguments so they don’t turn into big ones. I swear I’m not going to stay mad if you get on my ass about not doing the dishes.”

Slowly, Steve nods. He doesn’t entirely look like he believes Eddie, but that’s fine. It’s always been like this – Steve unwilling (or unable) to believe that someone will love him if he doesn’t make it easy for them. Eddie’s been breaking that down, bit by bit, and this is no different. This is no chore.

“I’ll still love you even when I’m angry. Even when you’re angry,” Eddie promises. “I just love you, full stop.”

Steve nods again, more certain this time as he looks up to meet Eddie’s eyes. “I love you, too,” he says, because he always, always says it back, which suits Eddie just fine.

He figures if they can agree on that much, every other disagreement will be a breeze.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Mrs. R Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist

Notes: Not beta-read. Last part for real this time, y'all. Thanks for your patience!

Warnings: Fluff; smut: oral sex, unsafe sex; excessive use of the word 'fuck'

Summary: Choosing the hardware for the coat hooks in the front hall…Fighting over what color to paint the kitchen…Spending hours deciding which light fixtures to install in the hall, the bathroom, the living room…

A thousand little thoughts went into making this your home. Are you really about to leave it? 

“Hey, uh, miss? Where are these going?” 

If you had a nickel for every time you’d been asked that question, you would be able to buy yourself a damn mansion. You scrub a weary hand over your eyes, sliding it down over your cheek as the annoyance builds. How much money would it cost you to tell them that you changed your mind, to just find an empty spot on the floor and open the damn boxes, you’ll sort this all out later—

“Everything lined up by the door goes on the truck today. If you need an extra hint, look for the boxes with the word ‘storage’ written on the top.” 

The easy authority in Robby’s voice shouldn’t make you relax as quickly as it does, and you can’t stop the amused huff that puffs out of your mouth.

You turn to see the movers starting to take the boxes lined up by the door, giving Robby nervous nods. 

You turn back to the cabinet, reaching for the next mug and wrapping it in newspaper before tucking it into the box with the others. You glance back when you hear Robby coming into the kitchen. 

“Perfect timing. I was an inch away from tearing my hair out,” You grumble. He chuckles, and you hear the light rustle of him removing his backpack before he joins you at the counter. 

“They’ll get it done. You got a lot left to do?” 

“Uh,” You sigh, turning to look around the kitchen, “These and the cups, and then—I did the utensils already, got the plates packed away. I’ve still got some books in the living room, some stuff in the bedroom—Oh, and the basement’s done, completely done, except for two cans of paint that—I don’t even know how old they are, I’m not sure if they’re still good—?”

“Okay,” Robby soothes, sliding his hands over your shoulders. “I’m a little sorry I asked.” He offers you a soft smile as you sigh, scrubbing your hand over your face again. 

“I’m very tired and you’re being mean to me,” You pout. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” He murmurs, crowding closer. “Tell me what you want me to do.” 

“...Bring the paint cans up and put ‘em on the curb. Write 'free' on top, make them someone else's problem.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And then pack the books up. I’ll take care of the rest of the kitchen and the bedroom.” 

“Okay.” 

“One other thing, first.”

“Anything.”

“Gimme a kiss.” 

Robby’s smile widens as he lifts his hands from your shoulders to gently cup your face, drawing you in for a tender kiss. You sigh, chest flooding with relief as you sag against him, and curling your arms around his middle. Neither of you push to deepen it, instead relishing in one another’s touch: the warmth of one another’s arms, the steady, kind pressure of your kiss. 

“Are these boxes goin’, too?” 

The call from one of the movers makes you wince, and you just manage to fight back a groan. Robby leans back, tipping his chin up and pressing a kiss to your forehead before drawing away with a murmur of, “I’ve got it.” 

--  

“How are we doing back here?” 

You don’t answer until Robby’s just beside you, then wave into the drawer that you’re staring at.

“You think I can get away with just leaving all this shit in here and taping it up?” 

Robby hums, reaching in and poking through the contents—cough drops, a couple of pens, a bottle of lube, a few stray condoms. 

“I think that’d be alright.”

“Done,” You sigh, shoving the drawer shut before flopping onto the bed, your legs hanging off of the side. “The guys still here?”

“Nope, just left. Said they’ll be here bright and early at eight.”

“Perfect.”

Robby lays beside you with a sigh. You let your head loll to get a good look at him. You take in his closed eyes, his slightly pursed lips.

“...Can I be honest?” He asks. You frown, rolling onto your side and propping your head up on your hand to get a better look at him.

“‘Course.”

“I didn’t think you’d really do it.” 

You consider that as you lay back again peer back up at the ceiling, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Honestly…I kinda didn’t think I would, either.” The two of you sit in that for a moment before you press, “Are you still mad at me?” 

“Mad at you?” 

“For deciding to move.” 

It’s Robby’s turn to roll over. You feel the bed shift as he moves, hear him sigh. 

“Not mad,” He insists. “I wasn’t before, either, I was, um…I think I was afraid.” 

Your brow furrows, and you frown as you meet his eye. “Really?” 

“So much has changed between us in the last couple of years. This was just one more thing—one more big thing. But I understand it now,” He smiles softly, “And I’m proud of you.” 

Heat rushes up your neck and sweeps across your face at his insistence, and you push yourself up with both hands. An uncomfortable, huffed, “Okay,” Leaves you as you start to stand, but Robby catches hold of you before you can get too far. 

“Hey,” His arm curls around your middle, “I mean it.” 

The urge to remove yourself from his sincere approval wells, but you stay there, resting your hand atop his as you settle back against the mattress. Robby gives a soft, approving hum, his thumb sweeping across the band of skin exposed by your top. 

“Look at us,” He teases, “Using what we learned in therapy.”

“Yeah?” 

“I’m communicating how I feel and you’re not completely running away from me.” 

You snort, raising a hand to toy with the tie on his hoodie. “I wasn’t running from you before.” 

“No, but you also couldn’t take a compliment.” 

You snort a laugh, nodding, grudgingly muttering, “That’s true.” You relax further as Robby scoots closer, nuzzling against your shoulder. “You staying? One more night in the old place?” 

“I didn’t pack my PJs.”

“Good.” 

-- 

Choosing the hardware for the coat hooks in the front hall…Fighting over what color to paint the kitchen…Spending hours deciding which light fixtures to install in the hall, the bathroom, the living room…

A thousand little thoughts went into making this your home. Are you really about to leave it? 

You comb your fingers through Robby’s hair, nails gently massaging his scalp. You glance down as he shifts beside you, his face pressing more tightly into the curve of your neck. It’s a moment before he draws in a deep breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your sleep shirt. 

“...You awake?” He mumbles. 

“Mhm.”

“Long?” 

“I don’t know. A while.” You turn your head, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Did I wake you up?” 

“No.” He tips his chin up, kissing the curve of your  jaw. “Time is it?” 

“Mm—” You reach out, grabbing your phone from the bedside table and eyeing the time before dropping it again. “Five after five. You workin’ today?” 

“Mhm.” It’s a warm, lazy hum. Robby’s hand skims along your side, teasing under your sleep shirt as he brushes another kiss to your jaw. You tip your head to the side, catching his lips in a sweet kiss, and smiling as his tongue teases into your mouth. It’s only another two passes before Robby is rolling over you, the sheets sliding away, exposing you to the cool air of the room. You hum as Robby’s lips trail lower, tipping your head back into the pillow as his fingers inch higher and higher up your sides, shifting your shirt up to just under your chin. 

You suck in a stunned, sleepy breath as his lips brush across the top of one breast, his thumb sweeping across the other pebbling nipple. You groan softly, hips tipping up toward the heat of his body as you feel Robby’s hardening cock against your thigh. You draw your knees up to cradle him, sliding your hands over his arms as he inches further down, beard tickling the sensitive skin of your belly. His fingers curl around the band of your underwear, warm eyes turned up toward you as he waits. You bite your lip, stomach swirling with nerves and anticipation as you nod, tipping your hips up for him. 

The underwear has hardly hit the floor before Robby’s shoulders are spreading your thighs wide, his hands tucked beneath them as he laps broadly across your pussy. You whimper, hands fisting in his hair as your head presses back into the pillows. 

“Robby—Mikey, baby, fuck,” You mewl, grinding up against his questing tongue, skin tingling from the brush of his beard. He groans against you, moving his head from side to side before he leans up, lapping over your clit with sharp, flicking strokes. 

You can’t help the whimpers that drop from your lips. It’s almost embarrassing, the sound you make as he spears in one finger, then another. Your cunt throbs around them as he curls and strokes, pumping them harder as the familiar coiling sensation in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

You whine as he draws back with a final sucking kiss, reaching out as he kneels up on the bed. You reach out, palming his cock through his underwear as he leans across you, fishing into the bedside drawer. 

“Let me—” You plead, pushing yourself up, and pout Michael shakes his head. 

“Next time.” 

Next time, he says, like the two of you weren’t at each other’s throats just a few weeks ago—next time like you hadn’t considered moving fucking states to try and move on. 

Robby drops a condom on the bed beside you before his hand curls around your jaw, tipping your head up. 

“I need to be inside you.” He dips his head closer, and your eyelids flutter as his slick lips glide against yours. “Can I do that? Gonna let me cum inside you, sweetheart?” 

You nod almost dumbly, tongue flicking out to tease at the taste of yourself on his lips. You reach out, taking the condom from where he dropped it and flinging it out of view. Robby glances after it, surprise washing his features. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Uh-huh—”

“But I thought you got off of the pill.”

“I did.”

Robby’s brows jump up, his eyes sliding closed as you reach down, slipping your hands into his underwear and grasping his cock. He groans as you stroke him, forehead resting against yours. 

“Are you—fuck,” His breath hitches as you thumb the head of his cock, “Are you out of your fucking mind?” 

“A little.” You tip your head, lapping between his lips. “I wanna feel you, Michael. Fucking all of you.” 

He reels back, you fear that you’ve gone too far. But Robby is shoving off his underwear, pushing them away before he’s settling back over you. Your heart pounds in your throat as you lean back on your elbows, shivering as Robby draws the tip of his cock along your slick folds. Your hips twitch as he teases over your clit before leading it lower. The head just catches against your opening before he goes still. You glance up at him and find him watching you closely, almost nervously. You reach out, cupping his cheek. 

“What is it?” 

“You’re sure?” 

You push yourself up fully, smoothing your thumb across the apple of his cheek. 

“I want you to fuck me like this, Michael.” You lean up as the flush already crowding his cheeks begins to spread down to his neck, his bare chest. “I want you to cum in me. I want to be slick with you while I boss around those fucking moving men.” 

Michael’s groan blends with an almost pained chuckle as he crowds a little closer. 

“Do you wanna fuck me like this, Michael?” You push. 

“Yes.”

“Yeah? Wanna fill me up?”

“Yes, fuck, fuck—”

Your jaw drops as Robby's hips shove forward, easing in. You whimper as your pussy throbs around him, clenching around his length as you lean back against the bed. Robby follows you down, curling over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head. 

"Jesus christ, you're so wet," He swears, breath hot against your lips. 

"Move—”

"Not yet."

"Mikey—”

"Just—mm, god," He leans in, pressing his forehead against your jaw. "Need a minute." 

Your lips curl into a devious smile as you slide your hands up and over his shoulders. 

"Yeah?" You coo. "Why's that?"

"Don't." 

"Do I feel good?"

"You feel so fucking good." His hips grind forward, and you whimper, sliding your hand up into his hair as he begins to fuck you with steady strokes. "You are so fucking good." 

You turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss.  He breaks it with a gentle nip to your lip, tugging it before drawing back, pinning your hips to the bed as his thrusts pick up in pace. You slip a hand between your bodies, swiping over your swollen clit as you struggle to press up against him, to meet his thrusts. 

The otherwise quiet morning fills with your joint groans, moans, sighs, murmurs of praise, of need. For a few stunning moments, it feels like it used to—desperate, and loving, and steady. 

You lean up, straining for another kiss, and Robby bows over you, lips sliding messily against yours. You whimper, toying with your clit more roughly as you grow closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Robby,” You warn, raising your other hand to wind in his hair, “I’m—fuck, just like that—” 

“Yeah,” He goads between panting breaths, “That’s it. Take my cock, sweetie.”

“Just like that—Right there, rightthererightthere—Fuck!” 

-- 

“We gotta get up.” 

Robby doesn’t answer at first, and you worry that he’s fallen back asleep. But he nuzzles against your collarbone, letting out a soft grunt of dismay. 

“You’re gonna be late,” You warn, “And the moving guys don’t need to see either of us like this.” 

Robby chuckles, picking his head up and resting his chin on his shoulder. 

“I bet a couple of them want to.” 

“I think you’re projecting.”

“Oh no. I’ve seen guys size you up like that before.” 

“Blegh.” 

He chuckles, leaning up and giving you a soft kiss. 

“I'll come by after work, help you unpack.” 

“Only if you want to. I’m not gonna get it all done today,” You reassure, smoothing your fingers through his hair. “Just—See how your shift goes before you go making any promises.” 

Robby props himself up over you, holding your gaze steadily. 

“I am coming by tonight. I’m going to bring takeout, and I’m going to make sure none of your light bulbs need changing.” 

"Don't want me to wind up in the ER again?"

"I love seeing you, but I don't love seeing you at work."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

@mad-girl-without-a-box ;  @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @veryprairieberry ;

@kittenlittle24 ; @ilariyalavorowrites ; @morgy3456 ; @emily-b ; @txtdreamss

@caramelised-onions ;

[miniwheat77]

Guard Dog. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!nsfw, violence, blood, wounds, brief mention of alcohol, talk of SA, unprotected p in v sex, Minors DNI!

“You know this is stupid right?” Gaz scoffs.

“Why’s that?”

“Getting into fights over the old man. It’s ridiculous.” He shakes his head. “This is like the 3rd time this week I’ve had to vouch for you over him, you seriously have to tell him how you feel or give up on it. This can’t keep happening. I mean she split your lip open today. It needs stitches. And god only knows what she looks like. I mean you’re a girl just like she is but you pack a much harder punch Y/N.” He sighs, he’s driving you to an urgent care. The simple bowling trip you had taken had turned into something much worse when you had run into some newer recruits to 141. One of them had said something slick about your captain, you can’t even remember what now. The blow you took to the face helped you forget.

You’re not sure what it is but people always seemed to have something to say about him. How he was an asshole, hard on everyone. This or that. You just couldn’t handle it anymore, not when you seen what you saw in him. He was so fucking kind. Always trying so hard, always trying to do the right thing. Looking out for his team. It’s all he ever did. And they still had something negative to say about him. It was infuriating.

Just how long could you even take this.

———

“Uh.. I’ll do a Jack and Coke please.” You ask. Words already slurring. The bartender nods and starts working on it. “Oh and uh.. tequila sunrise for her.” You nod over to Sarah. “Hey Y/N.” The familiar voice has you smiling. “Hey Lori. How you doing?” You ask. “I’m good.” She smiles. “You?”

“I’m great. Never better.” You laugh. “Still apart of 141?” She asks. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head. “I finally had enough, had to transfer to another base.” You tilt your head, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just couldn’t handle Captain Price anymore.” She sighs. Your hair stands up and you can feel yourself going into defense mode. The bartender sets your drinks down and you pay her, tipping her more than you intend, you’re sure how this is about to go. She deserves it for the trouble you’re sure to cause. “Really? I like him, he’s by far the best captain I’ve had.” You mumble, bringing the drink up to your lips. “No. I couldn’t handle him. Like.. he’s an asshole, hard on you no matter what. Everything I did was wrong.” She smiles, looking down. “Thought about lying and saying he was touching me to get a different captain on 141.” She winks. Your face goes hard. “I’m just joking of course.”

“Yeah… I hope so. I wouldn’t go around bragging about that.” You mumble. “It was just a joke. Don’t take it so hard.” She rolls her eyes. You know how this is about to go. “Yeah, maybe next time you see me in public you just walk on by.” You grab the drinks but she grasps you by your shoulder. “You’re fucking him aren’t you?” She scoffs. She’s got a laugh hidden behind it. “Actually, no.”

“Oh, you’re his guard dog? Or you just want to fuck him? Yeah I’m sure you do, but maybe look somewhere else in 141 because he’s old and a fucking pri-“ you set the drinks down while she talks and don’t give her the chance to finish, your fist crashing into her jaw, sending her back. A crowd forms immediately, Sarah, the girl off base you had come with rushes up to the bar where you’re on top of her. Swing after swing until she’s no longer fighting back but blocking your face. She sees a guy come forward, his fist coming down onto the back of your head and you draw away, holding onto your head. Another guy shoves him back and starts swinging. Yelling about how he doesn’t hit a woman. She grabs you by the jacket and shoves you back.

Someone else helps Lori and the 4 of you get shoved outside by the bouncers. They’re yelling for you to leave before they call the cops.

“You fucking bitch! Why would you sucker punch me like that?!”

“Cause you fucking deserve it! And you better keep your mouth shut or I’ll tell about how you like to lie about sexual assault too!” Your voice is slurred. She goes quiet after that, the person she had come with walks away. “Shit. How hard did that guy hit you?” Sarah asks. “Pretty hard but he had fucking brass knuckles on.” You hiss, yanking your arms away from her.

Pretty soon a bunch more people come spilling out, the guy who had hit you is barely walking now. Clearly having gotten his ass beat despite having brass knuckles on his hands still. You start yelling obscenities at him and Sarah has to pull you back further. You’re drunk and pissed off now, a bad combo.

“Sit the fuck down and keep this on the back of your head. We’re going to the ER damnit.” She hisses, pushing the cloth into the back of your head. You’re unsure of when she had snagged it. Mumbling as you sit with your head hanging. “Not going to the fucking ER.” You roll your eyes. “Take me to base”

She shushes you and puts the phone up to her ear.

“Hey uh.. Soap?” She says it into the phone. You try to stand up, trying to stop her but she pushes you back down. “Sarah? What’s up?” She hears his tired voice come across the phone. “We uh.. well.” She laughs. “We drank a little too much and some stuff happened. We could use a ride.” She mumbles. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Well. I’m trying to tell Y/N to go to the ER but she won’t listen, so I figured if I get her back to base maybe you or someone else could convince her.” She laughs.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Soap stands up quickly. This wakes Ghost up in his bed across the room. “Can you please just get here? We’re on the corner of 5th and 8th NW. Oh and whatever you do. Do not tell Captain Price.” She says.

He sets the phone down with a sigh. Sliding his boots on and grabbing his keys. This is the first time he’s ever gotten a call from her for the both of you, but he’s owed you one. The both of you coming to his rescue a time or two. “What’s wrong Johnny?” Ghost asks. “Uh.. apparently something happened at the bar downtown and Y/N and Sarah need a ride.” He mumbles. “I’ll come with. Give me a minute.” He worries as he creeps out of his shared base room with Ghost.

“Alright.” He hesitates outside and curses himself when Captain Price happens to be passing by, coming off of watch. “Soap, something going on?” He asks. “Uh..” he hesitates. “Y/N and Sarah need a ride from the bar so we’re going to get them.” He mumbles. Captain Price nods. “Mind if I tag along? I could use a drink.” He smiles. Soap knows he’s caught now. “Uhhh…” he hesitates. Ghost sighs. “Just tell him Johnny.”

Soap groans. “Something happened and Y/N needs to go to the ER but they wouldn’t say what for.” He mumbles. “You’ve got to be joking.” He sighs. “Well. What’re we waiting for? Let’s go.” He takes off walking down the corridor and Johnny beats himself up. Sarah is gonna be so pissed.

Price hops into his truck. Soap decides to take his car as well just in case. Ghost rides with him.

They meet at the bar, they’re all familiar with the area, having been to the bar a time or two. They pull up to the curb and see Sarah waiting outside with you.

Soap arrives first and gives Sarah enough time to complain. “What is he doing here Soap?” She seethes. “He overheard Sarah. Not my choice.” He mumbles back. You have your head lowered, a towel against the back.

“The hell happened? What’s going on?” Your Captain asks as he approaches.

“Uh.. well.”

“Fucking- stupid fucking bitch. Who brings brass knuckles to the bar and still loses the fight.”

They can barely make out what you’re saying your words are so slurred.

Captain Price kneels to see the damage, moving the towel for a second. “Oh shit!” He mumbles. Putting it back immediately. “Jesus, that’s a massive gash. She’s going to the hospital.” He breathes. “No! I’m fine.” You finally look up and that’s when they see the already bruised eye you’ve got. A busted lip and blood rushing down your face. “Fucks sake.” Captain Price. “Come on, I’ll take her to the ER.”

“No!” You start flailing the moment he helps you up.

He lowers you for just a second. Voice clear and daring as he says it.

“If you don’t relax and do as I say, I will have you running laps at 4am for weeks.” He seethes. You sigh. You give in, he carries you to his truck.

“Take Sarah to base.” He calls to Soap. He buckles you in and climbs into the drivers seat, pulling off of the curb in a hurry.

“She’s so dead.” Sarah mumbles to Soap. “Yeah? You are too.” He laughs.

“The hell were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself fucking killed tonight Y/N.” Price sighs. You scoff. “None of your business. You weren’t supposed to even be here.” Your words are still slurred. He tries not to get mad, knowing that you’re just drunk. “What did you even get into a fight over?” He asks.

You go quiet almost immediately. “Y/N?”

He glances over at you, seeing the way you’ve frozen up.

“I.. it..” you look away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.” He’s stern.

“Because of you, okay?”

“What?”

You groan. “Because. That stupid blonde girl that used to be on our base was there and she was saying shit about you alright?”

Hearing that you’d gotten into a fight with another soldier has hair rising on his skin. This was not good.

“What did she say?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“The hell is going on with you? You don’t act like this.”

“I’ll tell you when I’m sober alright?”

John’s head spins, he didn’t know what the hell was going on. You got into a fight over him, with one of his previous recruits? The hell was going on here.

He gets you to the hospital without another word shared between the two of you.

It’s hours later when you’re allowed to go home. You get into his truck, sober now. You’ve got fresh staples in your head and couple glued wounds on your face. They had to bring an officer in and take down a description of who attacked you and what he attacked you with since it was considered a deadly weapon in the state you were currently living in. “Alright, time to talk.” He sighs. “What on earth could she have said to warrant such a reaction out of you? I know you. You’re not like this.”

You laugh. Looking over at him.

“Alright but if I tell you, you can’t interrupt. You let me get every bit of this off of my chest and you don’t respond until I’m done.” You look at him, still parked in the parking garage of the hospital. He nods. Getting nervous because this seemed serious.

You sigh. Looking away from him, you start. “I have feelings for you. I have since we started that mission in Afghanistan. The first time I met you, yeah. Whatever. That girl, started in about you. She started it. I mean completely and totally saying some of the foulest things I’ve ever heard. She didn’t like you, she’s wanted to do this or that, accuse you of… of touching her to get you fired.” You pause with a sigh. “And than when I took your side she accused me of fucking you. Called you old and shit.” You shake your head. He’s looking at you, stunned. “So I just lost it okay? I lost it and I swung first. She hit me once in the face and then when I was on her some dude she was with hit me in the back of the head but he had brass knuckles on.” You finish.

“And it’s not out of the ordinary because it’s not the first fight I’ve gotten into over you, it’s the only one you know about.” You mumble.

“That’s it, that’s everything.” You sigh. He’s silent for a while. Thinking of what exactly to say to you. “How many fights have you gotten into over me?” He asks. “Several. Gaz takes me to Urgent Care all the time.” You mumble. After that, he’s silent.

When he still says nothing, you turn to the window. Clearly regretting your admission. “I know it was stupid.. I know that I shouldn’t hav-“

“Y/N?” He asks. “What?” You look at him. He throws the truck in Drive and pulls out of the parking garage. “You can’t fight every single person over me just because you like me.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that. It’s not just that I like you. It’s because you’re the best captain and the best superior I’ve ever worked for alright?”

He says nothing. It’s silent for the rest of the ride.

When you get to base, you get out of his truck. Assuming you’ll get booted off of the base in no time at your admission. About to lose your spot in the best task force you’ve ever been apart of all because of your stupid brain. He says nothing, letting you go. The others don’t hear you come in.

Sarah spots you but doesn’t show herself, only walking out of her room when she sees him follow you inside a few minutes later. “Is she okay?” she asks.

“She’s fine, no concussion.”

She nibbles at her lip. “Captain..” she starts. “Did she.. did she tell you anything?” She asks. “What do you mean?” He looks unimpressed. “About.. maybe how she feels about you? Or anything?” He laughs, looking down at the ground. “Yes she did. She told me about all the fights. All that.” He mumbles. “Oh.. good. I’m sorry about tonight, it caught us all off guard.” She says. “I’ll take any punishment you’re going to give.”

“No. I’m letting you off with a warning and putting Y/N on an extra watch for a couple weeks because she was the aggressor tonight.” He sighs. She nods her head. “Thank you Captain.” She whispers. “Go to bed now.” He nods. She smiles sadly and closes the door. She feels for you.

The next morning, you’re up and sitting in the mess hall. You’re not eating anything but you’re drinking coffee. You’re the first one awake.

“Why you awake lass?” Soap asks. “Head hurts.” You mumble. “Obviously. What’d they do to you? Stitches?” He asks. “Staples.” You huff. “Ouch. He must’ve got you good.” He laughs. “Cheap shot but I probably deserved it.” You laugh. Captain Price walks into the mess hall and it’s Soaps cue to leave.

He gets coffee and sits in front of you. You say nothing.

“I’m putting you on watch for a couple weeks, an extra one.” He mumbles. “Ten to one in the morning.” He says. “Yes sir.” He’s surprised you don’t fight but you never have before. Last night was a different side of you he’s never seen.

You stand up, grabbing your coffee and walking away. He sighs to himself. “She’s got it bad, Cap.” Gaz laughs. He’d walked inside after you. “Yeah, yeah she does. Apparently everyone but me saw it.” He chuckles. “Yeah, it’s very obvious. Just watch her.” He laughs. Price shakes his head.

Later that night, you make your way up the stairs to the watch tower. You expect anyone else but freeze when you see him.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. “Um.. here to take over.” You mumble. “No. I just took over for Soap. Have a seat.” He nods toward the other chair. You obey immediately. Something you’ve always done. He’d been thinking to himself for a few minutes before you came up. About how you always had those marks on your face. Black eyes, split lips. Busted knuckles. He saw it but never asked, and a time or two when he did, you said it was an accident from sparring. How much he’d truly missed, he’d asked around about it and it was a lot. He feels like a bad captain. For not asking and not noticing.

It’s quiet the first few days on watch with him. He checks up on you, asks you to look into a flashlight. Makes sure you don’t have a concussion or anything.

As you start healing and spending more time together. He sees you. Your smile is amazing, your laugh is unmatched. You really start to open up to him. Telling him about yourself and stories on missions. Listening and laughing when he tells you some of his own. You’re easy to talk to.

He’d just finished one, a story. You were laughing. Turning away from him. He’s smiling too. He starts to notice the little scars on your face and hands. Your knuckles are scarred and you have a couple scars across your lip. A couple that scatter your face. Cheekbone, brow bone, the bridge of your nose. It makes him sad, because those are there permanently. Because of him.

He sighs. “You’re a real nice girl, you know that?” He says it before he can stop himself. “Makes me wonder what it is you see in me.” He mumbles. Your smile falters as soon as he says it and he feels bad for ruining the mood. “I’m just an old man, and they’re right. I can be a real prick.” He laughs.

You shake your head, a tiny smile hints at your lips.

“You’re hard on people because you care about them. Your harshest moments are when you’re most scared, when people do stupid things that endanger themselves or others. You never yell or get mad unless you have a reason. Usually to reprimand or correct someone for putting themselves in harms way. You care about people. And you’re… respectful and calm and reassuring. When you see us going through our own shit, you send us home or send us back to base when we’re not feeling it. You try your hardest for us and that’s what I see.” You mumble. “I don’t see what everyone else does. I don’t think the things you do have any kind of malicious intent.”

He looks down at his entwined hands. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs. “But Y/N.” He looks at you. “You can’t keep getting into fights and stuff over this, alright? People will say what they want to say. They’ll do what they want to do.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s hard but you have to be the bigger person and walk away.” You nod your head. “I know.” Your nose burns and tears fill your eyes. Why are you about to cry? “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m not trying to let you down.” He can hear it in your voice that you’re getting upset.

“You’re not letting me down. You’re a great soldier and you’re a good girl. This is just.. a lesson.” He laughs. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You mumble. You stand up, going for the door.

You grasp the door handle.

When it opens a crack, he pushes it shut with his hand above your head. You gasp as it slams back shut, seeing his hand over your head. “What are you doing?” You ask.

You turn to look at him, but don’t expect him to be so close. Grasping your chin and lifting your face to look at him. “You know, out on the field.” He starts. “I pair you and I together, because I don’t feel that others will watch you as close as I do. I watch you like a hawk, I’ve killed over you. Do you know that?” He stares into your eyes. You shake your head. “Think about it for a second darling, go on.” He nods. He rests his entire forearm on the door just above your head. His sleeve presses into the top of your head. He’s insanely close to you.

There’s one scenario he needs you to remember.

When you remember it, you look up at him with wide eyes. “You… killed him because of me?” You ask. You don’t remember it well but well enough. The only time you’d ever seen Captain Price angry like that on the field. He surrendered even, but it didn’t matter. You told your captain you’d keep it to yourself after the fact. The list of secrets you’d been keeping for him kept growing.

“He commented on how pretty you looked. Said that when they got their hands on you…” he pauses. “Wouldn’t let it happen. But you know that.” He laughs. “Wasn’t the first time I’ve killed over you and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Not with how savage and ruthless these terrorists are, they’re bound to say something about you that will push me over the edge. Apparently you defend me just as much as I defend you.” He leans in closer and you close your eyes, taking in a breath.

Your heart races in your chest, the things he’s saying. It’s overwhelming.

When he’s pressing his lips to yours, you’re jumping for a second.

His lips are on yours, this is real.

You’re stiff for a minute but eventually melt into him as he kisses you. He lets you adjust and then he deepens the kiss, reaching for your thighs to lift you up, pinning your hips to the door with his own.

You gasp into his lips when he ruts his groin into you. This is what you had dreamt about for months and it was actually happening.

Your mind is foggy, you go with whatever he’s doing. Letting him memorize every curve of your body, the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin and the burn that they leave. He pulls away from your kiss and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. Tracing the small line scars with the pad of his thumb. The grooves of his fingerprints rough from callouses. His hands are rough and calloused but his touch is soft as he glides his hands over you. Sliding them up your shirt and gripping your hips. He’s all but panting as he tears into you.

Your lips and cheeks flush red, breathless from nearly nothing but the thought of him. The feel of his tough hands on you.

He tugs your shirt up and over your head, thankful that it was just you and him alone. For hours. Once the fabric is discarded, his lips are on yours again. He refuses to think of anything other than you. Not worried about the cameras or what could be going on around him. He slides his shaft through the hole in his jeans, zipper unzipped enough to expose him. Letting you down long enough to get one leg out of your cargo pants before he’s raising you up again. Lowering you onto his dick. Sheathing you entirely on his fat cock.

When he bottoms out a gasp leaves your lips, a hiccup of the remaining air leaving your lungs. He’s a lot. More than you’ve ever taken and it’s been so long that you’d forgotten. The stretch of him burns a bit and tears corner your eyes. It’s unexpected. He shakes, hissing through gritted teeth at the feel of you wrapped around him. Your smooth skin and gentle pleas have him shaking more. “S-shit you feel good.” He breathes, burying his face into the crook of your neck, raising you up more at the bend of your knees. He slides deeper, places untouched by anyone but him. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold onto him. He wraps his arms around your middle, like a bear hug.

Only his cock is buried in you to the hilt and he’s not stopping until he’s made you his. He was always a selfish man.

John doesn’t care anymore, you’re his. You’re his and he’ll show you that you belong to him. That you’ll never feel this way with anyone else. He’ll make sure of it. He uses the wall to hold you still, hips jackhammering into yours at a ruthless pace. Just when you’re about to tap out, he adjusts just slightly and you can take a little more. Your thighs shake in his hands and he’s not letting you out of his grasp. Not until he’s ruined you. Not until you realize just what you’ve signed yourself up for you. A shaky cry leaves your lips and that’s how he knows he’s found it.

“Found it ah?” He laughs, it’s a taunt.

“That special little place, that feels so good? Such a good girl for me.” He breathes. “Ah! You’re s-so deep Captain.”

He hisses, your unsteady voice and how you say Captain has his nearly finishing right there. It’s straight up sinful leaving your lips in such a tone. “Fuck- got me close already.” He growls through gritted teeth. He’s a wild animal. Chasing after that high, desperate for it. A mewl leaves your lips when you cum. It’s unexpected and fast, the tip of his cock abuses that sensitive spot inside of you. Too much to handle. He sends you right into a blinding orgasm and you shake in his hold. His belt rattles with every hard thrust he takes. Over and over until he’s hissing out, nose wrinkling up as he finishes inside of you. Not a second thought about pulling out.

He’s breathless, panting hard as he halts his thrusts. Letting you throb and convulse around him. The little sparks shooting through you, remnants of what he’s just given you linger.

He lets you down and your legs shake, you have to hold onto him. He can’t help but laugh.

He helps you clean up before walking you back to your room. Asking Gaz to take over watch a little early.

He licks his lips as he hesitates leaving you at your door. “Um.. we’ll talk more tomorrow. Alright? Just uh.. try not to get into anymore fights darling.” He laughs.

“You want to stay?” You ask. Opening your door up wider for him. He laughs. “How about you grab some clothes and come back to mine hm?” He tilts his head. “Okay Captain.” You smile. When you turn your back to him, he can’t see your blushing red cheeks or the wide smile on your lips. How all of this time you’d waited and it was finally here.

The both of you walk back to his room, your change of clothes in hand.

Sarah and Soap watch from down the hall, trying to contain their laughs.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 6

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Amren bashing, Azriel is an idiot, Eira has a well-deserved crying fit and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"Do I want to know what your mother said to you?" Cassian asked him with a sigh the next morning. They were at the River House. 

Eira was still sleeping. Or again. Resting. Pure exhaustion apparent in every fibre of her being. She had stumbled up the stairs the night before, fell into her bed and hadn’t moved. Feyre and Nesta were both with her, had been with her since then... 

Azriel let out a small huff, and glanced at Cassian from his couch seat.

“No,” he said bluntly. “No, you really don’t want to know.”

"You're brooding," Cassian pointed out. Azriel snorted at his brother’s observation, crossing his arms.

“And you’re observant,” he said dryly. “Your point?”

Cassian huffed in amused annoyance and shoved him playfully. “Come on. Out with it,” he said, propping his feet on the coffee table, his wings shifting behind him. “You’ve been quiet and broody and grumpy all morning. You need to talk about it.”

"Talk about what? Talk about the fact that whatever Amren said to my mate was enough to push her head first into a panic so bad that she winnowed? Burned down half a forest accidentally?" Azriel asked, his voice forcedly even. "Or about the fact that I needed my mother to call me out on my bullshit because I am a fucking idiot ?"

"Language," Rhys said with a sigh, trying and failing to feed Nyx his porridge.

Cassian rolled his eyes in annoyance at Rhys’s words, while Azriel gave his high lord a flat look.

“Are you seriously going to get on me for my language?” he asked Rhys dryly. “Out of everything I just said?

"I do not need a fight with Feyre, because our son starts repeating your curse words," Rhys muttered.

Cassian snorted at that, and Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, shaking his head.

Somehow, even right now, when everything was such a mess, Rhys still managed to find ways to be a caring father.

“Can we focus on something more important?” Azriel said, his voice a grumble. “Like the fact that I’m failing as a mate?”

Cassian’s snort turned into a choke at Azriel’s comment, his eyes going wide. “Failing as a mate? You? You’re kidding, right?”

Azriel scowled at Cassian’s shocked response.

“And how exactly is it possible that I’m not failing?” he demanded, his hands clenching into fists. “Because I can think of many, many ways, Cass.”

“What exactly have you done that qualifies as failure?” Cassian countered, shifting position so that he mirrored Azriel’s pose. “Because I’m really drawing a blank.”

"I fancied myself in love with her twin sister and pretty much used Eira as nothing but a source of information about Elain. Then, when I realised that Eira was my mate, I asked for permission to court her and within that conversation somehow found it prudent to say that Elain was the pretty one but Eira was the kind one and would protect our children fiercely. Then I gave her a harp as a courting gift, while she needed to sell her old one to keep her family from starving and nobody ever even thought about the fact that maybe that would bring up some bad memories. Then instead of asking what she wanted to do, I decided on the symphony, where I spent 3 hours sitting next to her in silence because all I could concentrate on was the fact that she held my hand . I have no fucking clue if sewing and baking and cooking are actually her hobbies or just the chores she liked best and I don't even know her favourite colour. Tell me how I am not failing, Cassian!"

Cassian opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly at a loss for words.

Azriel let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.

He knew he had screwed up. That he had failed miserably in so many ways. But saying the words aloud…hearing them said out loud…somehow just made it even more real.

He slumped down in his seat, burying his head in his hands.

“You…you really are an idiot, Az…” Cassian finally managed to say, his voice quiet as he spoke. 

Azriel knew that. 

"I told Nesta that everybody hates her," Cassian admitted quietly. "I didn't tell her that I loved her until after our fucking mating ceremony. I have no clue what her favourite colour is either, now that I am thinking about it."

When Cassian told him that, Azriel’s eyes flew open and he looked up at his brother, his jaw slackening.

“You what?” he demanded, not quite believing what he’d just heard.

"Not my best moments," Cassian admitted drily.

Azriel let out a choked snort at his brother’s reply, and he buried his head in his hands again.

“And you said I’m the idiot?” he asked faintly.

“We’re both idiots,” Cassian said matter-of-factly, flopping back against the couch cushions. “Maybe all males are idiots.”

"I didn't tell Feyre about the dangers the pregnancy put her in," Rhys said quietly. "I didn't tell her we were mates at first either. I am sure there are dozens of other things I did, where I failed as a mate."

Azriel sighed, and he let his hand drop to his lap, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re really not helping,” he said, his voice quiet. “I shouldn’t feel better about being a failure as a mate because my brothers are failures too.“

Cassian snickered at Azriel’s response, but Rhys let out a huff and gave him an amused smile.

“I’m just saying,” he began, his eyes soft. “You’re far from the only person to have ever messed up with a mate, Azriel. Hell, the list of things I did wrong with Feyre is longer than your arm.”

Azriel closed his eyes again, letting out a sigh as he rested his head back against the couch cushions.

He knew that Rhys was right. Knew that all the males around him were speaking the truth. He wasn’t the only one to have messed up with a mate.

But somehow, knowing that didn’t make the knowledge that he had failed feel any less raw. Any less painful.

“I don’t want to fail,” Azriel said quietly. “I don’t want to put her through…this pain. But I feel like that’s all I’m doing. All I did was let my own emotions and wants and desires drown out what Eira really needed“

"Then maybe you should ask Eira what Eira actually wants," Cassian said with a snort.

...And he was already back to making the exact same error as before, wasn't he? That should have been his first thought.

Azriel closed his eyes again, letting out another weary sigh.

“How?” he mumbled. “How do I go to her and say ‘Hey, I realize that I did everything wrong so far. And I failed you and I’m an idiot, so how about you and I can start everything over from the beginning?’”

A hand, strong and heavy, descended on the top of his head and ruffled his hair.

“By doing it,” Rhys said firmly, a hint of a smile on his face. “By looking her straight in the eye and telling her what you just admitted to us. She deserves the honesty.“

“And when she says ‘no’? When she says she wants nothing to do with a failure and idiot of a male like me?” Azriel asked bitterly. “What then?”

"She won't," Rhys said calmly. "She won't, Azriel. She has been in love with you for years."

Azriel let out a sharp huff at Rhys’s statement. “Even more reason not to take me back,” he grumbled in response. “She’s loved me for that long and that’s all I come up with? Silence and stupidity? If I were her, I would reject me too."

"Just talk to her," Cassian said with a sigh. "We have enough other problems to deal with that aren't your brooding, Az."

There were so many other things to deal with. So many other things more important than his brooding.

Maybe there weren't many other things that were more important than his relationship with Eira, but still…

“Fine,” he mumbled at last, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll talk to her.” 

He needed to talk to her. Once she was awake. In the meantime… "What did you do to Amren?" he asked Rhys, who looked up startled.

“We had words,” Rhys said clippedly. “I suggested that she'll stay with Varian in the Summer Court for a few weeks. She’ll be welcome in Velaris when she can apologise to Eira and actually mean it.” Rhys’ voice was icy when he said that. “And I am due to have another conversation with Morrigan because I am not letting her get away with it either. Which reminds me, Cassian, you also owe Eira an apology,” Rhys pointed out evenly.

Cassian grimaced. “I know,” he admitted with a sigh. “I just really doubt that she wants to hear it,” he admitted quietly. 

Rhys sighed. "Which brings me to our next problem: I didn't want to push it...but we need to get Eira to train."

Azriel inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Of course, they would need to talk about that. Part of him was even surprised that Rhys had waited that long to bring up training.

"She needs control," Rhys continued, holding up a hand. "I am not talking about training her to kill anybody. I am talking about her learning to control her...lightning. And maybe some self-defence if she is up to that."

Azriel nodded in agreement. As much as he hated the thought of any sort of violence being aimed toward Eira — hated the mere idea of seeing her get hurt again — he knew that Rhys was right.

She needed to know how to control herself. To protect herself. She needed to know how to fight.

Azriel nodded again, raking a trembling hand back through his hair.

A part of him felt like he was betraying Eira by agreeing to this. Like he was failing her again. But another part, the part of him that was a warrior, that knew how to fight, that knew the dangers that came with not being able to defend yourself…that part of him agreed with Rhys.

"I'll be the bad guy," Rhys said with a sigh. "I'll be the one asking her. I hope I'll get away without outright ordering her."

Azriel let a small huff at Rhys’s comment.

He knew that if anyone had a chance at convincing Eira to train, it would be Rhys. But that didn’t help the pang of guilt at the thought of his mate receiving further training — being forced into training to begin with.

“And this arrived yesterday,” Rhys said with a sigh as he dropped an envelope in front of them. 

Azriel’s mouth flattened as he looked down at the envelope, his heart dropping at the sight of the Day Court symbol.

Cassian let out an identical, weary sigh as they also caught sight of the symbol.

Everyone in the room knew what that invitation meant.

"Feyre and I are required to attend," Rhys said quietly. "If Nesta won't go...there will be talk. Maybe less talk if Eira doesn't attend, but there will be talk about strive between the sisters, regardless of what information we feed them."

Azriel had to grit his teeth to hold back from letting out a snarl.

He knew Rhys was right. Knew that there would be talk no matter what.

But the thought of Eira being forced to attend that wedding...forced to endure Elain’s presence… He clenched his fist and took in a deep breath through his nose.

He was not going to like this. “If Eira goes, I go,” he spat out. 

Rhys’s mouth flattened for a moment, and Azriel braced himself for a fight.

Instead, his brother just gave him a short nod. “I expected nothing less, brother,” he said quietly.

****

Eira had slept. The first restful night in quite a while.

She still felt exhausted. Still felt like the world around her was...blurry. But it didn’t feel like all her energy had been sapped from her body, forcing her into unconsciousness.

It was an improvement.

"How are you feeling?" Feyre asked her softly. Nesta and she were curled around Eira in her bed...reminding her of their days in that bed in that cottage. Just one thing was lacking: Elain.

“I’m...better than I was last night,” she mumbled truthfully, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “…Still tired though.”

"You winnowed without training. That should probably be expected," Nesta said drily. 

"You also nearly put Amren on fire with your lightning," Feyre said with a grimace, and Eira flinched.

"She had that coming," Nesta growled. "What did she tell you? Were you a waste of life as well?" Eira flinched again, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.

She didn’t want to talk about Amren. Didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened. Didn’t want to think about anything that had happened.

She just wanted to…sleep. She wanted to forget. Let her eyelids close. Drift away. Not feel so goddamn tired…

"She told her that not training her powers was a waste," Feyre said quietly. "That Eira owed it to me because I hunted and apparently kept her alive . It was absolutely out of line and ridiculous."

A fresh wave of heat rushed to Eira’s cheeks as Feyre explained what had happened, and a pang of shame went to her stomach. 

Because Amren was right. She did owe it to Feyre. That, and so much more. Feyre had cared for her. Hunted for her. Protected her. And what had Eira done in return? Nothing. Nothing but fail.

“You know-“ she began to ask, her words cutting awkwardly off as she felt a pang of guilt stabbed her chest.

“Yeah, I know what she said to you,” Feyre replied, her eyes soft. “Rhys got the whole thing out of her…He had a few things to say…I had a few choice words to say to her myself.”

Eira’s heart dropped into her stomach. She should’ve known that Rhys would have found out. He seemed to find out everything sooner or later. She winced, suddenly feeling even more guilty.

"I am sorry," Eira whispered. "I didn't want...I'll...I'll train. I'll learn how to control it. I'll..." She would hate every minute but if it made it easier for Feyre, she would...

“No,” Feyre told her softly, but firmly. “You will not be doing anything to make my life easier, Eira. You owe me nothing. Do you understand me?”

She wrapped her arms around Eira tightly and rested her head against Eira’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything. For me. For anyone. Understand?” she murmured softly. 

"Training would be a good idea, but you don't need to do that for me," Feyre whispered. "Do it for yourself, Eira."

Eira’s throat tightened, and she swallowed thickly.

She didn’t want to do any sort of training. She didn’t want to do anything in that moment.

She just wanted to lie in bed. Forget about the world. And yet…she knew that training would be a smart idea. That she did need to learn how to control her...lightning. And she didn’t want a repeat of last night. With great reluctance, she swallowed again. “I…alright,” she mumbled. “I’ll…I’ll train. And learn how to control…my…lightning.“

She hated the words as soon as they escaped her mouth, but she didn’t take them back. She knew it was the right thing to do…even if she didn’t like it.

"I know you're not looking forward to it," Feyre said drily, and Eira smiled despite herself. A tiny, reluctant smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Who's…going to…" she began, before trailing off. “Who's going to be training me?”

"Not Amren," Nesta snapped immediately.

The words were like a weight being lifted from Eira’s chest. She was relieved more than she cared to admit that Amren wouldn’t be the one training her…and then guilt immediately set in. She shouldn’t feel so relieved. So happy. Amren had done nothing but be harsh but the truth to her, and yet…she still couldn’t stop herself from being happy that the female wouldn’t be training her.

“…That, we know already,” Feyre deadpanned as she shot her sister a fond smile. “But you’re right. Nobody is thinking about having Amren train Eira. It’ll probably be Rhys if you are comfortable with that.”

She took a deep breath.

Rhys.

Rhys was…good. She could deal with Rhsy training her. Out of all the options…he was good. It could be worse, she tried to tell herself.

“Doesn't he have...anything more important to do?” Eira asked hesitantly.

She knew that Rhys was the High Lord and…surely he didn’t have time to deal with her. Surely, he had more important things to deal with than training some…somebody like her. 

She was…waste of time, and she didn’t want to be any more of a burden on him than she already was.

“He’ll figure it out,” Feyre replied, giving her a soft smile. “He’ll make time, Eira. He’s good like that.”

Nesta made an annoyed sound, making Feyre roll her eyes.

Eira swallowed again, the words not really doing anything to reassure her that she wasn’t wasting Rhys’s time.

Rhys was important. The High Lord. He shouldn’t have to waste his time with her . She knew that she couldn’t say those things. Couldn’t make Feyre or Nesta realize how ridiculous this whole thing was…how insane it was to have the High Lord of the Night Court as her teacher .

“It’ll be fine,” Feyre repeated, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Now...how was...your meeting with Azriel's mother yesterday?" Feyre asked. "I need to admit, I didn't even know that his mother was still....alive," she admitted with a grimace.

"He mentions her...very rarely," Nesta disagreed quietly. "She's a seamstress though...She made him a jacket he wore for solstice once."

Eira hadn't known that…but then she also hadn’t known that his mother was still alive. He had never mentioned her to Eira at all. And Esmeray…Esmeray was the last thing Eira wanted to talk about. Eira didn't want to walk about...about what she had said.

"She…was nice. Sweet, like Azriel," Eira answered quietly, swallowing. "She was...maternal. Not like our mother was." It was true. She was sweet…kind…lovely. 

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a glance. "But?" Feyre prompted her quietly. "Did she say....anything?"

Eira didn’t say anything, just closed her eyes. “Talk to us,” Nesta said softly. “What did she say, Eira?” 

"She figured out who I was after I told her my first name...and then she said that Azriel is fond of me but he is fonder of Elain..and that it's too bad that she is mated to another," Eira blurted out, her voice shaky. "He didn't tell her...He didn't tell her that our…that the mating bond had snapped." She could feel the tears burn in her eyes.

"Oh, Eira," Feyre breathed, sounding heartbroken for her.

"I am going to fucking kill him," Nesta muttered.

“Get in line,” Feyre grumbled, and Eira could just feel the scowl her friend was shooting at Azriel in her head.

She swallowed again, feeling the guilt and the shame and the hurt and the….everything, rising up in her chest.

She didn’t want to be upset at this. Didn’t want to feel like…like she had a claim over Azriel, but she couldn’t help the painful pang in her chest at the words Esmeray had said.

Too bad that Elain is mated to another… 

He is fonder of Elain… 

Those words, they just hurt. They burned. And she felt so...helpless.

And the thought that he hadn’t told his mother about their mating bond…it just made the pain even worse.

"Azriel...he said…when he asked me to court…he said that Elain was the pretty one but I was the kind one," Eira choked out. "He wanted her. I am just...I am just a consolation prize to him, aren't I?"

For a moment it was silent. 

"First of all," Feyre said firmly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You are not a consolation prize. Don't ever let me hear you say that again, alright? You are not a consolation prize, you are a treasure ."

"Second," she continued, her voice growing cold. "He is an idiot. Who the hell tells you that? Why would he say that?"

Eira shrugged, feeling her eyes burn.

She didn't know. She didn't understand why he would say that. Why he had said any of what he had said? 

But she knew that...part of her, part of her hoped that he had meant it in an endearing way. That he had called her kind because he liked that about her.

"I thought...I thought just having him could be enough," she whispered. "But how am I supposed to live my whole life knowing that he would be happier if he was mated to Elain? To be compared to her day, after day, and found lacking?"

"For Fuck's sake, Eira!" Nesta snapped.

"He only wants me because of the bond. And maybe because of the vision he saw...he wants the babies we would have together, but he doesn't want me," she choked out. "Every other female would suffice as well."

"Stop that. You know that's not true," Feyre said firmly, wrapping an arm around Eira's shoulders again. "He cares about you; I've seen it for myself."

Eira choked on a bitter laugh. "What does it matter," she whimpered. "He might care...but Elain is still what he wants. Nothing will change that...not even the Mating Bond."

"Azriel...he's an idiot," Nesra agreed angrily. "A complete idiot who can't see that you...you're right in front of him. Yeah, Elain may be the most beautiful out of us all, but she’s clearly bone deep ugly, if she…she tried to keep your babies from you?” Nesta asked and Eira just nodded, tears pouring out of her eyes. 

“A girl,” she choked out. “A girl. Azriel’s wings but my hair. We looked so happy in that stupid vision. And I was pregnant again.” 

Feyre’s mouth fell open as she stared at Eira in shock, while Nesta’s eyes hardened furiously. “She...really…” Feyre’s voice trailed off, sounding heartbroken.

Nesta let out a loud, furious snarl. “She’s a monster . Elain is a monster ,” she spat, her hands forming into fists. 

“She…she tried to keep my babies from me,” Eira repeated, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Azriel and I…looking happy…and...and now...I..."

She had to pause, the tears making it impossible for her to continue.

Both Feyre and Nesta wrapped their arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“It’s not fair,” she choked out. “It’s not fair. I saw us. I saw how happy we were…”

It was as clear as day in her memory. That vision of them in that garden, of Azriel kissing her, of the little girl being hoisted up in the air by him…

Eira had looked so happy. Everything had been so perfect, so right…it had almost made her dizzy. It had been everything she had ever wanted. 

Only to have it ripped away. To know that she’d had a chance at happiness, a chance at…of a family, of everything that she had always wanted…only to have it ripped away so cruelly…

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she’d ever felt in her entire life.

"It's not fair," she mumbled hopelessly, burying her face against Feyre's shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's not fair...He wouldn’t have even cared…he wouldn’t have even…looked in my direction…if the bond hadn’t snapped…he wouldn’t even have looked at me…”

Don't cry, the shadows whispered, coming to wrap around her hands. Don't cry. Master was an utter fool. Blinded by a pretty face. But he does care about you. 

She let out a sob, feeling more of the shadows slide up her arms to wrap around her.

She didn’t know that. Azriel cared…but it didn’t change how he felt about Elain. It didn’t change that he didn’t care for her, for Eira. He only…he only wanted her because of the bond.

He only felt responsible for her because they were mates. All the...feelings...he had towards her...were all just because of the bond.

The shadows only continued to coil around her as she wept silently into Feyre’s shoulder, her heart aching.

She had known from the beginning that Azriel didn’t care for her beyond the bond.

But...until she had heard what Esmeray had said, and learned that he hadn’t told her the truth, she’d still had some tiny part of hope. Some small, stupid part of her that had clung to the hope that maybe, maybe, he would start to feel for her the same way that she felt for him.

"I loved him from the moment I saw him. I looked at him and it was...it was like coming home," she choked out.

“Of course you did,” Feyre said softly, gently stroking her hair as the tears continued to fall. “Of course you did…”

Nesta said nothing, the only sound that escaped her was a low, furious huff.

"I am really going to kill him," she hissed.

“Save some for me,” Feyre grumbled as she held Eira fiercely, her free hand rubbing soothing circles into her back.

His Mother had words for Master, the shadows said quietly, coiling themselves into her hair. He's brooding. 

“Good,” Nesta said firmly. “I hope he’s miserable.”

“Nes,” Feyre said quietly, giving her sister a gentle nudge.

“What?!” Nesta said, scowling. “Seriously, he deserves it.”

Eira couldn’t help the tiny part of her that felt bad for him…that felt guilty thinking about him being miserable.

She knew Azriel didn’t love her, and didn’t feel the same way, but…a part of her cared about him. She didn’t want him to be miserable.

 "Why is he brooding?" she asked quietly.

The shadows hummed again, making a soft whispering sound before they spoke again.

His Mother told him he was an idiot. 

"She did?" Feyre perked up in surprise, while Nesta’s mouth curled into a satisfied smirk.

Yes, the shadows confirmed, coiling themselves into Eira’s hair like a strange, sentient snake.

It made something warm stir in Eira’s chest, imagining Esmeray calling Azriel an idiot to his face. Master realised that he hasn't been doing right to you...Not with the courting and not with...anything else. 

The words made more tears burn in Eira’s eyes, while Feyre shifted to give her a gentle hug.

“He’s realising, huh?” she grumbled. “That he’s been screwing up?”

Yes. The shadows coiled a little tighter around her, almost as if they were trying to comfort her. It made her heart ache in a different way, feeling warm and painful at the same time.

Will you talk to him? the shadows asked softly. Let him apologise? 

She was upset, she was hurt. She didn’t want to talk to him. She wanted to avoid him and forget this whole mess even happened.

But the shadows...they wanted her to talk to him. They…wanted her to let him apologize.

Another wave of guilt and shame washed over her.

Azriel had done…nothing wrong. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he merely didn’t…care towards her.

He wanted the bond, he wanted the comfort, he wanted a mate, he just…he just didn’t want her .

The thought made a fresh wave of tears fill her eyes, which she promptly buried against Feyre’s shoulder.

Feyre hugged her tightly, while Nesta gently rubbed her back as the shadows continued to coil themselves around her. “It’s alright,” Feyre whispered soothingly, as more shadows drifted down to comfort her. “It’s going to be alright.”

The shadows continued to hum and shift, wrapping themselves around her like a protective, comforting blanket. It was somewhat soothing, the sensation of their coolness, the feel of them wrapping around her, almost like they were trying to tell her it would be alright.

Master has a lot to say to you, the shadows spoke up again. Please, just listen to him, Eira. 

So she just nodded.

Thank you. 

The shadows hummed again, coiling a little tighter around her, and it was almost as if she could feel a sort of pleasure coming from them that she had agreed to talk to Azriel, to listen to whatever he had to say.

"But they'll stay," she choked out, pulling Nesta's hand tight around herself.

“Of course,” Feyre said instantly, wrapping her arms around her as well. “We’ll both stay. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Damn right,” Nesta said, tightening her grip as well. “I may need to restrain myself from knocking any sense into him.”

In any other situation, Eira may have laughed at that, but instead, all she did was give a shaky nod, letting herself be pulled in tight by her sisters.

The gesture was comfort, the feel of them around her reassuring and warm, even as her heart ached in her chest.

A few seconds later, the door opened slowly, and Azriel walked into the room.

Every bit of his usually impassive, stoic demeanour was gone, replaced by a look of anxiety and worry. Eira could see the tension in his shoulders, and the way his hands were clenched into fists.

He stopped a few meters away from them, his gaze locking on Eira instantly.

She could feel his eyes raking over her, like a physical caress, taking in the sight of her clearly tear-stained face. The way her hands were being clutched by Feyre and Nesta.

He looked desperate like he wanted to walk over and touch her, but one glimpse at the way Feyre and Nesta had her wrapped in their arms had him hesitating.

"How...how are you feeling?" he asked her, and she could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

“How do you think she is, you idiot?” Nesta snapped, her voice low and cutting.

Azriel didn't pay any attention to her, his gaze firmly locked on Eira, staring at her as if he was waiting for her to say something.

And Eira…she had no idea what to say. She had absolutely no idea.

She sat there silently, letting words and thoughts and questions swirl in her mind, but saying nothing. And it only seemed to make the tension in Azriel’s shoulders grow even more, the worry in his gaze deepened.

“Eira…” he breathed out, his voice soft and raw, and she could see his hands twitch like he wanted to reach for her. “Can…can we talk?”

Both Feyre and Nesta tensed, their grip on her tightening.

"You can talk. She will listen," Nesta said, her voice icy. "And then she can decide if she wants to take pity on you, or if she never wants to see you again. Did you seriously tell my sister that Elain was prettier than her in the same breath as you asked to court her?!?"

Azriel closed his eyes, looking pained at that, and she could see his shoulders slump. But he didn’t deny it, didn’t try to defend himself, and Eira just…felt her heart ache even more.

"I was an idiot," he said quietly, his voice low and thick. "I…I was a fool."

He sounded so miserable when he said that, and something in Eira just…wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him that this was hurting her more than he seemed to comprehend…but she just sat there, saying nothing, letting the tears still fall silently down her cheeks.

Azriel took a few steps closer, his gaze still firmly fixed on her. He looked miserable, like a wounded animal, like he was in pain.

And a small part of her…a small, stupid part of her wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to tell him it was going to be alright, to hug him and tell him she wasn’t angry.

But it wasn’t going to be alright, and she was angry. So she said nothing.

The silence seemed to drag on, the tension rising thicker in the room. The two sisters held her tighter still, their hands clenched around her, their own gazes fixed on Azriel, shooting glares at him.

It made him look even more miserable, and she could see him taking another cautious step forward.

“Eira…” he tried again, his voice so soft and pleading. “Please, please say something…”

The silence seemed to drag on, the tension rising thicker in the room. The two sisters held her tighter still, their hands clenched around her, their own gazes fixed on Azriel, shooting glares at him.

It made him look even more miserable, and she could see him taking another cautious step forwards.

“Eira…” he tried again, his voice so soft and pleading. “Please, please say something…”

"What do you want me to say, Azriel?" she asked, her voice weak. She wanted to scream and shout but she didn't have it in herself.

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to talk about how your mother had absolutely no clue that we are mates ? How she told me that you were fond of me but fonder of Elain? How it was just too bad that Elain was mated to another male?!"

She could see his body go tense at that, his eyes widening.

It hurt her, to see the realization and pain slowly spreading over his face. He knew what she had gone through, what she had to hear, the truth that his mother had revealed.

But he didn’t understand. He had absolutely no idea just how much all that had hurt her.

"I thought I was alright with it. I thought I could live with it. I could live with the fact that you didn't actually want me. That you wanted the life that vision promised you...that you were in love with my twin sister and not with me."

The words stung both Azriel and her.

She could see him shifting, and hear a low, pained sound leaving his lips. She could see something in his expression…a pain and hurt so deep she couldn’t even find the words to describe it.

"You…you think I don't want you...?" he breathed out, his voice so low she almost didn't hear it.

"You don't want me," Eira choked out. "You wanted Elain. And before that, you wanted Morrigan. And then Elain's vision promised you me and you go along with it, because of the mating bond."

Azriel flinched at that like each word was a physical blow. He looked sick, the misery on his face growing with each statement.

And a part of her was satisfied, seeing him look like that, seeing him look in pain. It was what he deserved after everything that he had done.

But the other part of her…the other part of her ached and bled at every expression of pain on his face.

The silence again continued to drag on, the air still and tense with the heavy atmosphere between the two of them.

He hadn’t denied it, she knew he hadn’t denied it. He hadn’t said that she was wrong, that she was wrong in thinking the only reason he pursued her was because of the bond.

The thought made her eyes sting, tears brimming and overflowing. Her heart ached, hurt, felt like it was bleeding.

"I am sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry, Eira."

The words stung, just as much as they gave her hope.

Her heart was aching in her chest, tears still falling slowly down her cheeks. Her shoulders trembled, and she took in a few shaky breaths.

She had been hurt by him. He had never even considered her before the bond had snapped. And he hadn’t denied it when she had called him out on it.

And still, she wanted him to fix this. Wanted him to find some way to fix this.

"I am not...I am not going and try to defend myself," he whispered. "I am not going and lie to you. And yes, Eira. I did see that vision and I felt that Mating Bond and I did want to pursue you. Because I want that future. I want that future with you."

She wanted that future with him as well, she longed for it, but she wanted him to come to her because he wanted her. Because he desired her, the vision be damned.

But instead, she came second fiddle to an image in a vision. Instead, she came last to Elain and Mor.

"And I went about it wrong," Azriel continued. "I should have...I should have actually made the effort to get to know you, Eira. I should have talked to you. I should have asked what you wanted. I should have asked for your favourite colour. And I should have..."

He trailed off, the words leaving him in a choked gasp. Eira could see the misery on his face, the suffering.

He looked completely miserable, his hands clenching into fists, his shoulders hunched and tensed, but he kept on going, his voice thick and low in his throat.

"I should have cared. I should have seen you. I should have noticed you."

"And I can't change it. I can't change what I did know. I fucked up, Eira. I fucked up so badly, that you have every reason and every right not to want to see me for centuries."

The words stung, and Eira just…she ached.

She ached, she hurt, and everything inside her had tears welling. She ached because…she wanted to forgive him. She wanted to give him a second chance.

But the thought of being second rate again, of being the last choice…it hurt.

But…she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, either. Couldn’t look away from the sight of how miserable he was, how distressed and in pain.

It hurt, it hurt so badly…but a part of her just wanted to hug him, to reassure him…Azriel took another few steps towards her, his eyes fixed on hers. He looked so wretched, his eyes pained, his whole body shaking as if it was taking him a monumental effort to remain standing there. To force himself to remain standing so close to her, to keep looking at her.

He was still a good few meters away from her, but the expression on his face, the look in his eyes…

It was like he was in agony.

She could see his hands clenching into fists, and could hear him taking a shaky breath.

"You…you don’t have to forgive me, or even want to talk to me again," he said, and she could hear how hard it was for him to form those words.

It hurt…it hurt seeing him look so miserable, looking like he was in pain. And it hurt because she wanted him. She still wanted him.

And the fact that it hurt was what got to her, what finally made her move. She shoved off Feyre and Nesta, who were still holding her, both of them looking startled.

They protested, clearly wanting to hold her back, but Eira pushed her way through, walking towards him.

Azriel hadn’t moved, his body going tense, his eyes going wide as she approached him.

And she hated that part of herself. She hated how much she still wanted him, despite everything that had happened. How much she ached for him, in ways that should be impossible.

It was a sharp, dull ache, a desperate and constant pain, a desire to reach out to him, to pull him closer, and at the same time, shove him as far away as possible.

She wanted to shove him away, push him further away. She wanted to tell him to suffer, to hurt the way she was hurting.

But at the same time…she wanted to pull him closer. To feel his skin against hers, under her fingertips. To feel his arms around her, holding her tight, his lips against her skin.

It was maddening. He was maddening.

���I am sorry,” he said, the truth flowing like clear spring water from his words. “I am so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

His words…she wanted to believe them. Wanted to believe that he was being sincere, that he truly was sorry, that he wanted to make it up to her.

And a small, naive, foolish, hopeful part of her, the part that was desperate and hopeful and greedy, did believe him. Wanted to latch onto the words, to hold them tight and not let go.

“I want to get to know you. I want to learn your favourite colour and your favourite place in Velaris. I want..”

He paused, taking a shaky breath. His eyes were still fixed on hers, pleading and desperate and aching, his entire body practically aching with the need to come closer.

“I want to learn everything there is to know about you. I want to learn about your smile and your laugh and your tears. I want to be with you, Eira.”

The words…they were everything that she wanted to hear. Everything that she had wished he would tell her, and more. They felt like a caress, like a gentle breeze, a soft comfort. And they hurt.

They hurt because she wanted to believe him, wanted to reach out and hold him close. Wanted to forgive him and let herself be close to him in the way she longed for.

“I want to be with you,” he repeated, his words a choked gasp. “I want to court you. I want to mate you. I want to…I want…”

He trailed off, choking on the words, taking another deep breath. His body was shaking, his shoulders tense, his expression aching with the effort of it all.

He looked in pain, so utterly hurt, like every word out of his mouth was agony. But he was still talking, still trying to get out the words, trying to make her understand.

“I want to spend every waking moment of my day with you,” he continued, his tone so raw and open and aching. “I want to wake up with you and go to sleep with you. I want to hear your voice and see your face every damn day.”

“I’ll do better, I’ll be better,“ he whispered.

He sounded so desperate, his voice thick and raw and pleading. It was like he was being ripped apart from the inside like he was in physical pain.

And Eira…she couldn’t help it.

She couldn’t help but believe his words, couldn’t help but let her stubborn, foolish heart hope.

“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking. “Please, please give me a second chance. I’ll…”

Another breath, another choked gasp. His shoulders hunched, his fists clenching tighter.

“I’ll do anything, just please give me a second chance. Give me the chance to right this. Give me the chance to prove to you…prove to you how much I want you. Just…give me another chance.”

His voice was so raw, so open, the look in his eyes pure pleading. He looked like he was ready to beg, ready to do anything for her. Anything to give him another chance.

And her heart, her foolish, stupid, hopeless heart…the part that wanted to hold onto him, to forgive him, to give him that chance ached.

She still hurt, still ached, the words from his mother still so fresh in her mind. The thought of being second, of being his last choice…it was a sharp blow against her.

But at the same time, she couldn’t stop the part of her that wanted to hold onto him. That longed for just a chance, just a moment where he was hers, where she was first and last and everything in his heart.

Azriel looked ready to continue, but he stopped when he saw the look on her face, her conflicting emotions warring inside her chest.

He closed his eyes, his shoulders dropping. He was probably expecting her to say no, to turn him down. He probably expected her to…

To do the sensible, rational thing. But sensibility and rationality were the last things she was feeling right now.

Her heart was aching, her body trembling, her emotions a swirl of conflicting feelings. Her mind was screaming at her, telling her just how idiotic she was for considering this.

And at the same time, her heart was yearning, longing for him. Wanting to grab onto him and never let go.

Azriel’s entire body was shaking, his eyes still closed, looking like he was bracing himself for her answer, for the words he expected her to say.

The words she should say, the words that would send him away, that would make her turn and walk away.

And yet…she found herself taking a step closer towards him. And then another.

She wasn’t even sure why she was doing it, why her body was moving before she even knew it, her mind screaming at her to stop and turn around and walk away.

But she kept moving towards him, each step sending a strange, giddy rush shooting through her, her heart aching and fluttering at the same time.

And she stopped in front of him, less than a foot of space separating them, her eyes fixed on his.

Azriel still hadn’t opened his eyes, his face tense and taut as if waiting for the blow to come.

But the blow never came.

Because Eira reached out, her fingers trembling as she reached up to touch his cheek.

Azriel's entire body jerked as if he had been struck, a gasp leaving his mouth. His eyes flew open, shock and surprise clear on his face.

But he didn’t move, didn't pull away or even flinch as her fingers made contact with his skin.

He just stood there, frozen as he stared at her.

Her hand trembled, her throat tight as she felt the warmth of his skin. His face was tense, his breath catching with every moment her fingers remained against his skin, like he was fighting the urge to turn his head and press his lips to her skin.

“Eira,” he breathed out, the word a whispered plea, a prayer. And then he seemed to realize he had moved, was on the edge of reaching out to her in turn.

But he caught himself, his hands hanging at his sides. He was holding himself back, holding himself from reaching for her…

And somehow, that made her even more determined, her decision stronger.

She wanted him to reach for her, wanted his hands on her skin, wanted him to hold her close and never let go.

She slid her hand along his cheek, her palm caressing his jaw. And she stepped even closer, closing the very last bit of distance between them.

They were so close, her body almost pressed flush against him. He was so warm, his body burning, and so large, like a rock, unflinching and steady against her.

She could feel him trembling, just barely holding himself back from wrapping his arms around her. His eyes were fixed on hers, longing and pleading and aching.

Her breath caught when she realized how closely she was pressed against him, how only a fraction of distance separated their bodies. She could practically feel his racing heart under her skin, hear every quick and desperate breath leaving his mouth.

He was breathing fast, ragged and sharp, every little inhale shuddering from his lips like a gasp. He looked like he was about to snap, his entire body visibly trembling like a taut thread on the edge of snapping.

“Don’t do it again,” she said softly. “I won’t…I won’t be able to go through it a second time.”

Her words seemed to hit him like a physical blow, his breath hitching in his chest. She could see the pain that flared on his face at her words.

“I-I won’t. I swear,” he responded, and his voice was so gentle, like he was talking to a wounded bird. “I swear on my life, I’ll never let you go through that again.”

He was holding himself back, every muscle and sinew in his body tense with the effort of it. It was like he was fighting the urge to pull her flush against him, to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.

“I swear, Eira,” he repeated, his voice a low and achingly sincere promise. “I swear I’ll be better. I’ll be everything you need, anything you want.”

“The only thing I want is for you to be yourself. I want you. All of you.”

A choked gasp left his mouth, his eyes going wide. He looked almost stunned like he couldn’t quite process what she had said.

“I…you want me?” he asked, his voice rough and raw, filled with disbelief.

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yes. I want you,” she confirmed, her voice firm and unwavering.

The words had a strange effect on him. It was like they had knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him looking completely awed and shocked.

He took another shuddering breath, his body trembling as he stared down at her. “You…you really still want me?” he asked his voice barely a whisper.

And just like that, the dam broke inside him. He reached out, pulling her flush against his body, his arms wrapping tight around her.

His head dropped to her shoulder, his body shuddering as he pressed his face against the crook of her neck. “I’ll do better,” he whispered, his voice ragged and raw and desperate. “I’ll be better. I’ll be the male you deserve. I promise.”

His body was shaking against hers, holding her tight like he was afraid she would disappear. He was breathing fast, hard and frantic, his chest rising and falling against her body frantically.

She could feel him shaking like a leaf, every muscle in his body taut and tense as he held her tight but oh so gently. And under that, she could feel his racing heart, beating so fast and intense that it was dizzying.

“I’ll be everything you need,” Azriel repeated, his lips moving against her skin, his words spoken in a low, ragged whisper. “I’ll be your male, your mate. I’ll never leave you, never hurt you or let you down again. I swear it, Eira, I swear it on my life.”

His fingers were digging into her skin, clinging to her so tightly that she could feel the slight, sharp pressure of his hands against her like he was trying to hold her to him, keep her as close as possible.

He was holding her so tightly that it should have hurt, but it only felt good. It felt like a comfort, a reassurance like he would never let her go.

[mrs-meeks-martin]

On Chill

ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: after a couple of fights and repeated back and forth, you both come to a collective decision.

a/n: my fault for being gone so long, insane writers block grabbed me by the collar

also, shoutout to @sister-lucifer for dividers!

song:

warnings: reader is thiccc, smut, the tiniest amount of arguing, MADD ethan, dom ethan, small amount of smut

You and Ethan have been arguing.

A lot.

But you really were in the right, you swear. Ethan has been in and out of the house with zero warning, he’s been coming back at way later times, and weirdest of all, he won’t tell you anything. Not even one detail.

This makes you skeptical. What could he possibly be doing?

Cheating?

You’d rather not think about it.

You’re laid down on your sectional, using some random show on Netflix as background noise while you draw something on your tablet. This is usually how you spend most of your weekends. Cooped up and comfortable, how you like it.

And then you hear keys jingling in the lock.

The door slowly pushes open, Ethan slowly walking in after, clad in some sweats and a loose fitted tee while holding a black duffel bag.

“Where the hell have you been?” You put your tablet on your couch and stand up, walking towards him.

“At the gym.” He says flatly, trying to walk past you. However, you stop him right in his tracks.

“I need to know what the fuck is going on. This is the last, and I mean last day I’m tolerating whatever this is-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks down at you, still managing to keep a monotone voice.

“You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. The repeated absences, the coming home late, the obvious lies as explanation. I’m done.” You snap at him, looking right in his eyes as you go off.

“Babe, please.���

Oh please, not that baby shit. He knows it makes you feel some type of way.

“I told you I’m done.”

“I swear I’m telling the truth. Can you just agree with me for one time? We’ve been arguing too much lately.” He softens his voice, sounding pleading.

“And whose fault is that?” You retort, raising a brow in contest.

“Again, I’m sorry. Maybe we can just… Be on chill tonight?” He suggests, grabbing your hand.

“I still don’t forgive you,” you grumble, looking down at your feet.

“Then how about maybe…” He bends down until he reaches your ear. “I can give you chills too?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice sounds confused.

“It means I’ll fuck your brains out. You seem like you need it.”

Well, you were agitated.

And who are you to deny some good sex?

Without even thinking, you pull him into a kiss. A long, passionate one. The duffel bag in his hand suddenly clatters to the floor as he reaches his hands out to touch you. His hands immediately reach down to your ass like a second nature.

“Fuck, I missed this ass, baby..” He whines in your ear, hopelessly groping at your cheeks.

Suddenly, he picks you up and starts trotting up the stairs.

Your clothes are haphazardly strewn across the floor as Ethan pulls the umpteenth orgasm out of you.

“Come on, give me another, I know you can.” He groans in your ear as he ruts into you mercilessly, his pace not even stuttering for a second. His looong cock is just constantly bullying your gummy walls, eliciting wanton mewls from you.

“Can’t… too much…” You whine fruitlessly, his cock failing to slow down.

“Just- one- one more. You can do that for me, yeah?” He looks at you and nods, his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in fast, frantic circles.

You let out a guttural moan and you start seeing stars. You finally let go, climaxing with a powerful flow of clear liquid.

“Holy- shit…” That has Ethan busting on the spot, his cock mindlessly thrusting up into you as he empties his balls, painting your walls a nice pearly white.

He collapses on top of you and manages to find the strength to roll over, heaving as he lays on his back with his hand on his chest.

“Are you still mad at me?”

You’re practically knocked out at this point, and he looks over to check on you, seeing you fast asleep.

“Guess not.”

You yawn, eyes fluttering open. Feeling groggy, you check the time on your phone. 2:34 AM. Well, ain’t that a bitch. You figure you probably won’t fall asleep for a while, so you slip on a pair of slippers and walk downstairs on shaky legs to go and get some water. As you’re walking to the kitchen, you see something in the corner of your eye.

Ethan’s black duffel.

Would he mind?

It doesn’t matter anyway, because curiosity already killed the cat. You expected to find nothing more than gym clothes. When you open the bag, your face contorts in shock and in disgust as you see a bloody knife paired with the bloody Ghostface costume.

He wasn’t cheating.

You couldn’t contain your scream.

[fujii-draws]

Been meaning to ask, what /did/ inspire your reading of dadnoir?

I like it a lot, i even use it, but i got it from you and i want to know more about what inspired you to write it?

Hihi!! I am more than happy to explain it :3

Admittedly at first I really wasn’t thinking too much about Ribbons/Aimilios’s relationship with him. I was also originally of the opinion “Oh those three would just hate eachother like some sitcom but tolerate the other’s existence for Grovyle/Celebi’s sakes” But that was before I made this art piece.

(Ironically the first one I did of those three before the madness deadass consumed me)

I was originally drawing with my feelings towards Dusknoir in mind (Which was absolutely trusting and loving the guy before he did the whole betrayal thing. And hating his ass) but something about it legitimately made something click. There was such an interesting, complicated, and tragic relationship to be had with those three. That had so much god damn potential for interactions/dynamics/angst that I saw equal to the whole Grovyle/Dusknoir’s uneasy truce in EP5.

“What if Aimilios(partner) wasn’t the only Pokémon who looked up to Dusknoir, but Ribbons did, too. And even more unfortunately, Dusknoir going from playing the role of their “friend”, only then get attached to them, too. Causing a whole mess of internal conflict while those two are snuggling up to him.”

Now, before I get into this next segment, I’d like to preface that I’m aware that it was never the writers intention to imply or insinuate a relationship between those three. This is just a veryyy fun what-if scenario that is unintentionally backed with some context if you squint at certain segments. I frolick in the field of headcannons and different interpretations because it’s fun, and I don’t like trying to justify the dadnoir Au’s existence over and over again with ‘ahhh sorry guys I know this is ooc :(((((‘ and am very much past that phase. I have nothing to apologize for, and neither should you if you enjoy the hc! and will now unapologetically enter my joker arc 👍

(I am also okay with people not liking /enjoying it! We can still be chill :3 so long as you don’t actively try to put the hc down out of sheer disdain. Other than that!! Cheers to the folks who don’t understand or even like Dadnoir, who are still willing to hear me out! (And even the ones who don’t and respectfully click off this post!)

Long Dadnoir Tangent undercut

—

1.

Worrying over Hero/Partner genuinely even though there’s virtually nothing to gain from saving two random Pokémon who you’re gonna leave in a world of ruin regardless.

2.

Defending those two while showcasing both sides of Dusknoir (where he’s willing to be merciful to the Manectric, but fight on behalf of Hero/Partner after what Team Skull pulled.)(if he was just an overly cynical, unbearable asshole why is he even bothering with this)

3.

While this is absolutely leaning more towards him making sure they’re alright so he can prepare to officially and personally execute them, I think it’d be more sweet if this was more of a slip of the tongue on his part. “Hoho! Farewell little, vulnerable Pokémon I’ve gained a small attachment to. Wait what.” (WHILE I DONT HAVE THE SS, if you talk to him again, he tells them to be careful. Again.)

4.

I remember a post from @defendglobe that was equivalent to “did he seem more uncomfortable with praises now that he knew he was basically deceiving everyone” and I love that take so much that I’m putting it here.

5.

Ohhh Crystal Lake. How I love you.

Another instance. Where Dusknoir absolutely could have let everything play out. Get rid of 1/3 of his targets while incriminating Grovyle even further as a villain. He knew who partner and hero were at that point. He knew his mission. And yet he acted. It’s so hilarious how similar this and Dusknoir pushing Grovyle out of the way of the stalactite in EP5. My ghost in Christ you could have gotten rid of them so much sooner.

6.

I fucking loooove this little scene so much. How Mespirit and Uxie go over to Azelf in pure worry. How close they get near them. How Dusknoir Hero Partner have the same interaction, yet the renowned explorer keeping physical(emotional) distance away from them. How it’s exactly three Pokémon checking up on eachother in back-to-back scenes.

7.

I Don’t think I Need a Screenshot for the elusive “Well… this is… good-bye… Or is it? Scene; BUT. Something I never considered was him stalling bc I thought he was being a theatrical asshole and pausing for dramatic effect during his betrayal. But i remember a post of someone saying the “…”‘s in his dailouge almost felt like he was hesitating and. Shit. that makes me so insane.

And now, onto the angsty future bits.

Again, Dusknoir absolutely did the shit he did to those two. And I don’t want to take away from it by softening the blow or woobifying him. If anything, the previous explanations/Dusknoir enjoying his time with them(and Vice versa) adds onto the tragedy and angst so much more and I love it. From this point on he is as cold and calculating as he is in game. I only hc the moments of hesitation during the Stoneship fight.

8.

There is something so genuinely heartbreaking about partner’s denial throughout the entirety of the Paralyzed future segments. The refusal to admit that Dusknoir was a horrible Pokémon, and clinging onto hope that he was still good.

AND THE GOD DAMN TEARY EYED SPRITE. YOU CANNOT MAKE THIS UP. HE LOOKED UP TO DUSKNOIR SO MUCH AND FELT SO BETRAYED.

And the implications Hero gave up too from Partner’s words alone. The fact Hero has no dialogue after Dusknoir revealed just how cruelly and easy it was to manipulate them.

And just. Partner’s teary-to-determined sprite pipeline after *finally* getting their shit together and realizing the truth. That they need to stop defending him and be there for Hero. I am going to die. Badly.

And even after all that Dusknoir put them through. Partner doesn’t just go “yeah lmao pretty much” and reels back on calling him heinous and wicked even though that was absolutely justified. (Oh and don’t get me STARTED on the Drowzee/Dusknoir parallels)

Like. God there’s so many crumbs that made me realize on rewatches that the concept had actual merit and potential. And I love it so so dearly. There’s so much potential oozing and fun to be had with Dusknoir being close to those two (or any other Pokémon you see fit.) regardless of Celebi and Grovyle that can work. I still think futuretrio is an amazing dynamic and trio of Pokémon.

And i am also of the opinion of him only rarely showing devotion and care for Pokémon he loves. But still is fairly respectful to randoms he doesn’t know as well. And I think it not being solely restricted to Grovyle/Celebi can can make for some really sweet dynamics. Again, I love Grovyle/Celebi/Dusknoir so much. And Ribbons/Aimilios/Dusknoir’s relationship makes me equally as insane if not more.

It’s why I adore it when I see Dusknoir x oc or Dusknoir x sona’s in the fandom that are unapologetically lovey. I hold hands and continue to love whatever new future trio art my mutuals/friends have in store. I appreciate majority of this fandom for it’s open mindedness and kindness.

And on one last note, the reason why the concept of Dadnoir appeals to me so much, is explained so masterfully by one of my good friend’s @gaydiation-poisoning that I will now share with you all

^^^ they’ve been on the dadnoir train for the longest out of anyone I’ve ever met (EVEN ME.) and they put it. So well. (Without even mentioning the pure drama and bittersweet tension upon his return to Treasure town.)(Like fuck man. The idea of Hero/Partner slowly learning to retrust him after… everything. Emotionally and Physically. The time it’d take. The conflict and continued back-and-forth dynamics between them. and the one ghost who desperately wanted to live in retribution for their lives; trying genuinely, no stings attached this time, to try and reconnect with those two.) [not even mentioning the fun switch up of famous explorer + two recruits trying to impress and get close to him, vs famous explorer(s) + fallen from grace explorer trying to get close and rekindle a tainted relationship.] take these three away from me they make me sickkk

And I really hope I, alongside the many others who’ve adapted this hc, can inspire u to keep loving whatever you want anon. Regardless of how in-character or out it may seem. Don’t be afraid to make what you love.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

Word Count: 627

Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago

Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.

“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”

“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.

“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”

“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.

Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.

“It’s over, (y/n).”

It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.

But it definitely is over.

“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”

His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.

You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?

“What is it?”

“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.

Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.

“What is all of this about?”

You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.

“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.

“Dumped.”

“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”

“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.

No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.

“You know what makes me so damn strong?”

What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?

“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“

“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”

“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.

What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.

“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”

You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.

“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”

Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?

“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.

Yeah, you got it.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazini @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

[marks-bby]

LOVE TRIANGLE ! ! | with both morales’

— what happens when you have both of the morales boys in love with you ?

— love triangle trope , best friends with miles , miles g being that annoying brother , best friends brother type thing , no smut but heavy heated making out … with miles g IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! THEY ARE BOTH MINORS ! !

best friends since the womb. your mama and mrs. morales with best friends before they were pregnant, which made you and the morales brothers become close.

well…only one morales brother.

miles g. was closed off and never wanted to be around you.

when the both of you were younger, he’s cut up your toys and your favorite clothes.

but miles?

he was an angel. your partner in crime. the both of you were always together at any given moment.

car pooling with mama morales? he would sit next to you. at a restaurant with them? miles was there next to you.

fast foward to teenage years

nothing has changed. well, except that they both have an alter ego. but miles still made it his job to still hang out with you.

and miles g….was just there.

he wasn’t really that mean anymore but he still teased you.

lightly punching you, pinching you, holding stuff over your head, tickling you out of nowhere.

deep down, you thought it was cute. he finally changed.

you couldn’t lie, you had feelings for both brothers. but you showed your feelings more for miles. he was your best friend.

then things changed drastically when miles started talking about gwen a lot.

you’d just be sitting in his room, trying to chill with him but he would just keep talking about gwen…while drawing her in his journal.

one day you had enough, you needed to get out his room. “i’m gonna watch tv in the living room.” he didn’t even notice what you said. he just kept ranting about the girl. you shook your head, leaving the room. there was miles g. “don’t you have a room with a playstation?” you lean on a wall, looking at him. he puts his controller down, looking at you. “this is my house, right?” you scoff, sitting next to him, “i think i can actually take watching you play this. better than listening to your brother.” you cross your arms. “whatchu mean?” “he won’t stop talking about some girl. like every time i’m with him, it’s about that girl.” he laughs, “he don’t know how to treat a girl.” you swing to him, “and you do? you just stopped terrorizing me after all these years.” you laugh. “want me to start again?” his hands grab your waist, flipping you on the couch where he is above you. “miles…?” he didn’t respond. he was too focused on your lips. he’s wanted to kiss them since was 13. “fuck.” he curses before pressing his lips on yours. in instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck, telling him this was okay. he pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting from both of your lips. “that’s new.” you laugh. “been wanted to do that, ma.” he pulls you on his lap. “you’re fine with this, right?” he wanted to kiss you once more. he needed to. “yeah. i’m good with it.” this time, you went in for the kiss. he was shocked at first but quickly loosened up. his hands rested on your thighs, squeezing them from time to time. “[ name ]? where’d you—” miles finally noticed you were gone and wanted to find you. but the scene he saw you in would burn in his mind forever. “what the fuck, miles?” miles pulled you off of his brother, pulling him up from his collar. all miles g could do was laugh, “all you did was talk about that white chick, what was she supposed to do?” you knew a fight was about to stir. you had to leave. your pillows were soaked with your tears. you almost had lost your best friend. but your phone was blowing up from the both of them. what were you gonna do?

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hallowed

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.

Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.

Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.

It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.

She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.

“Michael…” she whines.

He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”

His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”

She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”

“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”

She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”

His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”

“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”

“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”

“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.

“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”

“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”

His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.

“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”

The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written. 

They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.

It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.

By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.

Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.

A first.

She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.

“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.

“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”

“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.

“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.

She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.

“Come here,” he commands softly.

She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.

“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”

He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.

His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.

She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.

His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.

She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.

He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.

“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”

She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.

Part one || Series masterlist

[froagles]

I have- a lot to say about Chapter Four, so-

I sound a bit salty, because I am, but I promise it’s all not that serious and it is just a game! Let’s all remember that and be respectful

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD BIG RANT BELOW ⚠️

❌ There’s about to be a lot of negative so if you don’t want to see it skip to the positives! Totally fair! It came out yesterday and I was hyped and it didn’t meet my personal hype, so I am a bit salty ngl! So totally fair to skip ❌

I can’t really talk much about Yarnaby because his death was SUPER glitched? So I was kind of just like “…okay- I mean yikes for him but-“ I can’t even tell if it was something I did that made him burn? I’m someone who hates chase sequences (not because they’re bad I just get too stressed lmao) but his felt kiiiind of underwhelming? But again one of the places I assume he was supposed to be chasing was- glitched as all hell he didn’t chase me at all, but anyways, my son that I can’t draw, I’m so sorry

Pianosaurus- honestly? I didn’t give him the time of day during promos and such, and honestly now I’m ashamed I didn’t, I’m someone that needs time to just- stare at a character’s design for more than four seconds, just to picture their potential, and staring at his design after the fact, yeah, a MUSICAL chase scene? Are you KIDDING me?? I would’ve fucked with that, SO. HARD. I think Mob was trying to go for the funny route, that or just to show how unstable/strong Doey is, but- I don’t know maybe he could’ve come in and saved us.. after an actual chase scene? My man had ten seconds of life including the cutout, Mob hates dinosaurs fr

The Doctor- I don’t know man I wasn’t too hyped about him like- fight wise? But I knew he’d come with lore and it’d be a different kind of villain so I was still hyped in a sense, and- since I can’t say much about Yarnaby’s death- then the Nightmare Critters stuff? Like it was interesting he was playing with us, but he just dies so easily, like I guess it makes sense, he’s an immovable(?) computer, but for someone everyone expected to be the main villain, and who was talking so much shit to us the whole game, he was also kind of underwhelming, disappointing really the mindless drone computers was also all glitchy so I couldn’t tell you much there

Saved this for last (critique wise) because if you follow me/like my stuff you probably know I love the Nightmare Critters, they got me into actually drawing Poppy Playtime stuff instead of just fixating on the Smiling Critters but not drawing them, helped that I had finally gave in and watched chapter three (out of order.. I finally watched chapters one and two like a week ago, fake fan I know) in September, and then they came out in October

Maybe it’s dumb, but these stupid emo critters mean a lot to me for personal reasons, a lot more than they probably should, so to say I was excited was an understatement, and- the trailer didn’t give me high hopes, but I stayed hopeful, thinking maybe that tease of a Bigger Baba would lead to something? Like- “maybe she’s actually an ally! They did say multiple allies, she’s the black sheep of the Nightmare Critters! It makes sense! They have their own jingle made too, maybe there’s a commercial!” And then to not even get cutouts of them felt kind of like a stab in the heart

They started their big promotion of the chapter with a week long introduction and- nothing, and yes you can argue the same thing happened to the Smiling Critters in chapter three though comparatively they got way more than the Nightmare Critters, which they gave us more of in chapter four, but that’s just the thing, why make the Nightmare Critters in the first place then? It’s not like it’d tarnish the Smiling Critters’ brand, they were introduced AS antagonistic plushies trying to eat us, and if the idea was that they were such a failed attempt (in universe) at trying to attain the same popularity as the Smiling Critters.. why not say? Give us a note? A line? An acknowledgment besides them visibly attacking us to their existence? Even as a villain despite the symbolism Baba could’ve been a parallel to Catnap, something, but nope, she was just the main grunt character, like actually, that’s what her and the Nightmare Critters were, Yarnaby was a pet, they were like The Doctor sent out bugs to come at us, in the cage room they were just slightly bigger bugs, like what is that about by the way? Are they not Bigger Bodies? Are they the “main” Critters? Like tell us things about them please, even their little jingle is an Easter Egg there’s NO acknowledgment of them, at all, and to top it all off, no cutouts, when characters like Daisy have cutouts despite never being a character we face, why have us see the Smiling Critters cutouts again with the same dialogue- and all the other new characters get cutouts, but not the Nightmare Critters?? Why????? I dunno, it’s not that serious but it’s incredibly disappointing for me personally, as we had months of hype for- literally nothing

Edit: I have more to say actually, why the heck was Baba even advertised as different from the rest of the Nightmare Critters? In everything we get of them she’s in the middle, or the main focus, the spotlight, for.. what? She’s the only one attacking us? Like I just don’t get it, I still believe a better plot were to have her be a parallel to Catnap, because they’re similar situations in a way, Baba’s Prototype was just Dr. Sawyer instead, just.. minus having a hinted personality, but maybe this time, we could’ve saved her when we couldn’t Catnap or something? So like it’s not too similar, but I dunno, literally anything would’ve been better than what we got

✅ But! It wasn’t all bad, this chapter did have a bit of good in it that I enjoyed, case in point- ✅

Doey, GOD I love his colours, I jokingly hated him because I fucking hate drawing circles, and this man is nothing but circles, but my actual opinions pre release I just couldn’t wait to see him animated, I love characters that don’t have to deal with anatomy, I hate anatomy, stretch away king, but I didn’t have much of an opinion otherwise, then we find out he’s made up of three people? The lore is hot, his jingle is a bop also, the fact he killed his (well one of the people’s) parents, that was illegal, stop that, and I’m glad that he didn’t just agree with Poppy’s plan, but also I wish they talked about the long term? Say they defeat The Prototype, it’s not like they can go back into society, I’m surprised no one had that existential thought, his death though- a bit convoluted but yeah, also to my understanding The Prototype set off the bombs right? But we still planned to do it, just maybe we could’ve moved the Safe Haven guys out beforehand I dunno, but that was such a sad death, he said SORRY TO US. US???? BRO WE SUUUUUCK, RIP the king of this chapter

Safe Haven, omfg that was just such a cool concept to me, I guess you could say that it’s not really original but I don’t really care about all that, kind of wish there was more of a variety of toys in it though (yeah I know there were a couple Boogie Bots and a Mini Huggy but it was still clearly Smiling Critters focused y’know? I swear I don’t hate the SC guys I’m just trying not to be biased towards them) I’m glad they had a memorial room, and it’s SO lucky of them to have a doctor I don’t know how if they were all children but that doctor is the goat, in the thumbnail of the trailer they make a point to show that Doey could put things in himself, and we also know from tapes that he can make it where others can’t, surely there’s big enough cracks to where he could go up in the surface and lowkey rob a store to get them food right? Pretty please? Give these people food T^T ALSO I’m glad they actually talked, I didn’t expect that to be honest, yay :3

I was not expecting to see BBI Hoppy but I’m so glad we did, my fav Smiling Critter hiiiiii :3, I love her voice, and it makes me wonder if she was the last Critter besides Dogday and Catnap, because maybe they would’ve mentioned the others if they were alive? I dunno, but I’m just glad to see her

Bouncing off of those two points ^, we got more Smiling Critters shit!! Not much in the grand scheme of things, but we got a whole BBI Hoppy tape, a blurry image of I thiiiiink BBI Bubba on one of the TV screens, and an entire room full of the little Smiling Critters, that counts probably, we got more that makes me happy :3

Out of order but seeing that Kissy in the train car- omfg I think that was who Riley from the notes was- RIP Queen, Jesus-

By the way I WILL be using the fact that Touille’s tail is lowkey kind of like Catnap’s that shit is so long, we sure he’s not an opossum lol?

The jingles made by Black Gryphon slaaaapped bro, make them longer puhleaseeeee 🙏

Kissy Missy, send tweet, she’s alive my angel she’s so TRAUMATIZED go AWAY PROTOTYPE

Poppy joining the realistic panic attack club- I don’t blame her for running, and I don’t think any of us should, we the player suck LMAO we deserve this, it was sad for Kissy though the queen

Also people saying fuck Ollie- why? Ollie was real, it’s The Prototype that did all that, not him, leave him alone he’s a bean

I kind of expected Huggy Wuggy was alive, these fucking wuggies are made of titanium I guess, what if the two reunite? They should give each other a hug with their long velcro paw pads, that’s what should happen Kissy and Huggy need to hug as probably the only BBI’s left (presumably, if Boxy is alive we cheer)

As disappointed in the chapter as I am, as it was my first time seeing it release live, it wasn’t all bad, maybe I could better judge some parts when they fix the glitching

I am working on some more drawings! Sorry I’ve slowed, I’m still not used to drawing so much lowkey, at least not like fully colouring and even doing backgrounds, if you couldn’t tell I only ever really do sketches lol, but yeah sorry things slowed I think I hurt my hand somehow, but sorry for the rant! I can get really ramble-y I’ve just never had a place to do so, despite my opinions I won’t be stoping posting art! So fret not, anyways, byeeeeeee!

[miley1442111]

what about reader (jj's sister) and rafe getting into a fight and they go to a party separately, and reader makes him jealous and he ends up exposing them to the pogues and it's huge fight

omg this is such a fun idea! idk if i did it justice but I hope you like it <3

family feud

a/n: this isn't exactly canon rafe bc this rafe isn't fully insane so sorry if that bothers you lol. i wrote this for a fem reader and reader wears a dress but imagine whatever you want :) also sorry, jj is kind of an a-hole in this one :(

pairings: rafecameron x reader, brotherjjmaybank x sisterreader, platonicpogues x reader

summary: rafe pisses you off, you got to a party and piss him off... but what happens when jj, your brother, finds out about him?

I'm mad. I'm really fucking mad. I want to piss Rafe off just as much as he pissed me off. The one day a month that my house is empty and we can actually spend time together, Rafe ghosts me and goes fucking golfing. So yeah, I go to the party in a dress that he got me, one he wanted me to wear for him. So…. I wear it to dance with Pope. Pope and I will never see each other like that, we're like siblings, but he’s the only pogue who knows and is even slightly ok with Rafe and I dating. He still hates him, so he’s enjoying this. I catch a glimpse of him. His eyes are dark and he’s staring, a red solo cup in his hand. He nods at me to come over, I shake my head and focus on dancing. The music is loud, really loud. My feet hurt from dancing and honestly I want to make up with Rafe. I want to be near him. I want to stop ignoring his texts. His hundreds of texts. His hundreds of calls.

I had to start leaving my phone at home he was calling me so much. I feel bad, but the idea of reconciling with him feels far-fetched and I'm not bothered to text him back. I don't even know where my phone is.

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“He’s looking,” Pope shouts over the music. I haven't seen Rafe for an hour, I don't even see him now.

“Let him look!” I chuckle back. “He fucking deserves it!”

Is this the best way to communicate my feelings? No. Should I probably just tell Rafe how upset I am? Maybe, but knowing him he’d just treat me like one of his groupies, which I am not. I’m his girlfriend of 8 months. 

I feel a hand grab my arm and I gasp. I look up to see Rafe. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” I hiss, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Pope steps away, saying something about getting another drink.

“You. You’re my fucking problem. You come here, in that fucking dress I bought you and you dance with Pope fucking Heyward. You don’t give me any fucking attention after I’ve been blowing up your phone for days,” He’s mad. He’s really fucking mad.

“Sorry, I was too busy,” I smirk, snatching my arm back. 

“Busy doing fucking what exactly?” He smiles one of his bitter-angry smiles and my sense of pride strengthens. I’m making Rafe Cameron mad. I’m making Rafe Cameron jealous.

“Golfing,” I smirk and his face drops.

“That’s what this shit is about?! If you would’ve just fucking asked baby- I would’ve come over, and none of this would’ve fucking happened! I wanted to be with you that day- fucking Topper pissed me off all fucking day- baby, you should’ve told me-” He gets cut off by a swift punch to the face.

“Get the fuck away from my sister Rafe, or I’ll kill you myself,” Jj shouts, John B holding him back. Rafe gets up from the ground, I can see how furious he is and I grab his hand, leading him away from my brother. He obliges and follows behind me. I weave him through the party-goers, Kiera and Jj shouting my name as we slip away. I bring him into the bathroom, sitting him on the counter as I search for a first-aid kit. 

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Rafe sighs, his breathing sporadic. “Topper, he’s- he’s gonna- he’s gonna beat him u-up. He-he’ll kill him i-if he gets the chance.”

I look up at him, first-aid-kit in hand. “Baby, breathe. I’ll text him now.” I take out my phone and send Topper a message, making him promise to not touch my brother or friends. He promises he won’t, but I know better and tell him to get the car started and that I’ll bring Rafe out to him in a few minutes. “See,” I show Rafe the messages. “He’s going to the car.” 

“Ba-baby I’m so sorry,” His eyes start to water, and my heart breaks. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s ok Rafe. I was just mad, I’m sorry,” I smile and start to clean his cut lip. His hands find their way to my waist, holding me gently. 

“I love you,” He blurts out and I drop my hand from his face. His face goes red and he looks down, I smile. Rafe Cameron; Kook King- loves me. Hm. 

“I love you too handsome. But right now, let’s focus on not getting mauled by my brother again, yeah? Let’s get you to the car and then home,” I smile and kiss his cheek, taking his hand to bring him home. He nods and follows. Outside the bathroom is Jj.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?” He grunts, stopping us from walking by.

“We’ll talk about this later Jj-”

“We’ll talk about this now,” He pushes. 

“Jj, fuck off!” I push past him and bring Rafe behind me. We get out of the house to the backyard where almost everyone is and I hear Jj practically scream my name. Everyone looks either to him or me and Rafe and I sigh. 

“Jj please-” I try but he cuts me off.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on between you two? Or do I have to ask around?” Jj shouts and grab someone’s collar, “You know somethin’?” The guy shakes his head, cowering back. He drops him and walks closer. 

“Jj, stop being a dick-”

“We’re dating. We have been for 8 months,” Rafe pipes up from behind me and Jj’s mouth drops open. He lunges forward, but instead of getting to Rafe, he knocks me to the ground. My head hits the hard ground and I whimper in pain. Rafe is immediately by my side.

“You’re ok baby, don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine,” he soothes as he cradles my head in his hands. 

“Rafe,” I start to cry into his touch as I feel Jj’s hand in mine. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Jj sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, back up,” John B pulls Jj away as Rafe helps me up. 

“Can we go home?” I whisper to Rafe as I wrap my arm around his bicep, holding onto him for steadiness. 

“Of course baby.”

I knew I would inevitably have to deal with Jj but tonight, tonight is for Rafe and I.

[riddlessecretss]

plsss some brando de santis x fem!reader i beg you!!

Focus on me

I have also got a Theo fix ready just finishing it. Hint (involves a plink);) please use the request it helps me understand what you guys want to see. If you want smut/fluff/angst just tell me, ive made this one a fluff but I can do a smut.

Wc-700

Summary- Helping Brando calm down after a fight.

Warnings- just some touching, strong language and kisses 💋.

You just heard the bell and as you were getting up you see your boyfriend and all his friends run down the hallway, screaming. “Cazzo Brando what is it now?” You roll your eyes to yourself. Following the crowd running towards it you hear it’s a fight but you can’t see. Luckily Chiara comes running up, “It’s Brando come on!” Your stomach drops, Brando can’t keep getting in trouble. Your relationship is made up of Brando’s protectiveness and your people pleasing. Sometimes he really annoys you because you feel like he doesn’t care about his future and sometimes even you. To your rich family he looks good and respectful but it’s far from that. “BRANDO?!” You scream hoping he’ll jump of the kid he’s punching. No. Actually he does the complete opposite. “Brando come on leave him alone!” You wait. His head turns around, “Y/n, you dont know what he said about you…” “…aand I don’t care, come on Brando let it go.” You say patiently, knowing he’ll give up soon. He doesn’t make any moves to leave so you have to drag him of the poor boy. “Come on please Brando, we’re having dinner with my parents tonight and we can’t have you with marks on your face.” I take him to the bathroom to clean his hand. “Yeah I know baby I’m sorry you know I can’t bear when stupid fucking assholes think you’re their property.” You smile at his caring words. Before I finish Niccolo barges in, “Yo he’s telling the principal come on let’s get him!” Brando goes to leave but you lay a hand on his chest. “Come on Brando please leave it alone, focus on me, stay with me please he’s not worth it.” “Yeah she’s right Niccolo I’m staying that fucking rat will get whats coming to him but not know.” Niccolo storms off angry, ”thank you Brando, I love you.” “I love you too my dear.”, you last heard of Brando. You’re on a chair waiting for him to come out the office, grabbing your bag when you see him come out, “are you ok baby?” “Yeah come on let’s just go home I wanna be with you.” You smile as you drive home letting Brando rest. You two are lying on your bed thinking of what to wear, “ooh that one my love.” I look at his eyes following me everywhere I go. “I don’t know, I mean we can’t have you getting a hard on in front of my parents now hm?” You giggle as Brando smirks patting g his lap. You sit down and kiss his lips before moving down to his jawline hearing a groan emerge from his lips. His hands wandering further down to you waist to draw circles. “You know I was thinking what if we go to a party after the dinner? Get drunk and have some fun?” You giggle and whisper in his ear, “like what type of fun? I could do this?” You tease as you start to grind on his lap. “Baby we can’t do this now tha dinner is in seven minutes.” He moans out into your mouth mid-kiss. “I know I’m sorry come one get your suit on, it’s a nice restaurant.” He laughs at your cuteness. He comes out in his new suit as you wolf whistle. He smirks and stands you up and spins you around, “your more deserving of that whistle my love.” You smile and share a passionate kiss before walking out to the car you called. “Umm to Uliassi please.” You smile feeling brando’s comforting hand rest in your thigh. You take your phone out and take a selfie for you story, saving the photo of Brando smiling. You step out of the car handing your bag to your waitress of the evening and walk in with Brando, seeing your parents already seated. ~skip till after~.“My parents loved you baby, so do I. How was your meal?” “It was great ive never tasted that many flavours before. Still doesn’t compare to you.” He winks as you giggle. “Behave we still have that party to go to.” He smirks “or we could just go home.”

Thats it I hope you love it. 🤍