#you’ll take what’s a fair point and pitch the rest

[monochromayhem]

Gonna add to this.

This is a fear that I have, and it’s funny how you mentioned Stephen King, because I talked about this fear with my partner on a recent excursion.

The “crazy” fan in Misery is a fear that I imagine many writers have had. The entitlement over how an author writes, the sense of betrayal when a twist they don’t like happens or a character dies or becomes evil (or good or anything that they aren’t before) is something that is, in my opinion, what can kill the authors will to keep going. It has the usually unintentional quality of being anti-art because it attempts to railroad a creator into a narrative they never wanted.

On one hand, I’m definitely the person who feels there are ways to say “fuck off” while encouraging creativity. If someone complained about how a character died, I’d tell them that I understand why they’re upset. That I was that kid reading Michael Crichton’s Micro and I screamed when a character I didn’t think would bite the dust died in a detailed and frankly gruesome manner. And I’d tell them that my writing just sorta unfolds, and that’s how it unfolds. And that they should write fanfiction to work through those complicated feelings— I encourage it.

On the other hand, there are bitter truths to writing that all authors should be more clear about, and the chief one in this instance is that all criticism that an artist faces is ultimately arbitrated by the author and the author alone. All criticism is sorted through by the creator and is sorted into whether it’s in good or bad faith, and then from there what is legitimate criticism that should be considered, or invalid claims that can be dismissed.

It’s something I took from my Writer’s Workshop program that I hold dear, that not all criticism is born equal. Sure, offensive stereotypes and such are something that should be remedied, but things like unhealthy relationships and miscommunications and crimes happening are a normal part of plot.

Imagine if someone hated Robin Hood for being a thief and demanded the author rewrite him to be a priest or a merchant or anything that could be twisted into absolute morality. The author would look at them, go “haha, no!” and keep doing exactly what they were doing. The artist has the right with their IP to reject things that don’t make narrative or thematic sense.

The final judge of criticism is the artist, full stop. If you wanna write the story for the author, you don’t respect their art. A good artist knows that balanced discernment of comments is an important part of shaping their creation, and if you just want them to bend to the whims of the fans, you don’t want their art—you want your fanfiction version of it.

In other words, go write a fanfiction if you don’t like something an author does.

Oh, and fuck off.

I think more creators should openly tell their fans to fuck off and stop being weird

[babydollmarauders]

ONE PRESENT — ALEX TURCOTTE

alex turcotte x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Alex lets y/n open one present on christmas eve, and puts that present to use

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, toy use, oral (m receiving). (2.6k words)

notes: merry Christmas eve!! it’s day 11 of the 12 days of kinkmas, which means tomorrow is the last day! fair warning; i wrote this while sick and on multiple medications.

“it’s not a christmas movie.”

my hand is covered in salty butter from fresh popcorn, my glasses perched high on the bridge of my nose as i argue with my boyfriend.

“it absolutely is!”

my head snaps towards Alex, lips parted in disbelief.

“Die Hard is not a christmas movie!” i huff, my butter covered finger pointing at the tv, in which said movie is playing, “it’s an action thriller!”

“but it takes place during christmas time, therefore making it a christmas movie!”

“therefore.” i mock in a squeaky, high pitched tone, my boyfriend gaping at me in disapproval.

“you are such a child.” he shakes his head, but i can see the way he bites his cheeks, fighting back a smile.

“and yet, you’ve been with me for two years.” i grin, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the indented dimple that appears when he cracks his smile.

“you didn’t let your immaturity show until a month ago, when we moved in together.”

“bullshit,” i roll my eyes, grabbing another handful of popcorn, “i let my immaturity shine in all its glory on our first date, when i laughed after you said ‘balls.’”

Alex grins, pressing a kiss to my forehead before he responds, “i love it.”

it’s not too much longer before the movie ends, my boyfriend clicking off the tv as i get up to wash my hands and put the popcorn bowl in the dishwasher.

“do you think my mom is mad?” Alex questions, his eyes glued to his phone screen. his brows are threaded together and he appears in deep thought as i walk up to him, “she’s being pretty short in her responses.”

i peer at his phone screen, his message thread with his mother open.

“i’m sure she’s just busy,” i tell him, “she said she understood you not coming home.”

“yeah, but maybe she was just being nice.”

i smile softly, pushing his phone out of his face before climbing onto his lap, legs resting on either side of him.

“babe, there comes a time when almost everyone stops going home for christmas,” my words are spoken gently, my hands rising to cup his face as he stares back at me, “we both agreed that we wanted to spend christmas together, in the new house. it was your idea.”

he nods, turning his head to press a kiss to my palm.

“i know, i just feel bad, y’know?” now it’s my turn to nod in understanding.

“i know, baby. but, we’ll have a great christmas tomorrow! i’m making my cinnamon rolls, and you’ll make the coffee, and then we’ll open not only our gifts from each other, but all the gifts our families sent.”

my eyes flicker over to our christmas tree, piles of presents extending far beyond the branches.

“my parents went overboard,” i whisper, “i’m pretty sure you have more presents from them than i do.”

Alex barks out a laugh at my words, arms snaking around my waist to pull me tight against his chest, “they love me, what can i say?”

“you can say ‘stop, don’t love me more than your own daughter! that’s not fair to her!’”

he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “but then i wouldn’t get as many presents!”

i scoff, hitting his shoulder, but i don’t get a chance to respond before he’s got us falling sideways onto the couch cushions beside us, our faces lining up so we can stare at each other.

“i love you.” he mutters softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips, and i hum in satisfaction.

“i love you a googol.” i cheese at him, my response earning me a hearty laugh.

“did you just tell me you love me as much as your made up number?”

“it’s not made up!” i gasp, “it’s one followed by one-hundred zeroes!”

“i’m dating a nerd.” he groans, prompting me to giggle before kissing the tip of his nose.

“you chose me.” i remind him.

“yeah, and i would choose you again.”

“you’re so cheesy.” i roll my eyes, but my smile never leaves my face, my hand running up and down his muscled arm.

we sit there in silence for awhile, eyes closed as we cuddle up on the couch, nothing but the sounds of our breathing.

i’m enjoying the peaceful quiet until he pushes my glasses up to my forehead, pulling one of my eyelids up to open my eye. i swat his hand away, groaning.

“what?” i snap.

“hey, i have a gift for you.”

“yeah, i know,” i huff, battling with his hand as he reaches up to try and forcefully open my eyes again, “i’m opening all your gifts tomorrow.”

“no,” Alex drags out, “i have a gift for you to open tonight.”

my eyes fly open and i let go of his hand, allowing him to push my glasses back down to my eyes so i can see him clearly.

“a christmas eve gift?”

he nods, “like you said your family does; although i think mine is better than pajamas.”

“hey, don’t knock the pajamas! that tradition will carry onto our children one day.” i reply.

“and i can’t wait for that. but right now, pajamas don’t sound like a fun gift, but i think mine is.”

i allow him to sit up, pulling me up with him before he leads me to our bedroom. my silk pajamas slip across the bed when he tells me to sit and i watch as he disappears into our closet, returning with a small, poorly wrapped present.

“oooh, what is it?” i ask, excitement filling my body as i make grabby hands toward him.

“open it and find out.” he smiles, handing me the gift.

watching intently as i slowly rip off the wrapping paper, he sits beside me on the bed. as the red paper falls away, i’m left with a box in my hand, a picture of a pink object on the front with words reading ‘Bullet Soft-Touch’.

“is this-” i trail off, looking up at my boyfriend in amusement.

“a vibrator,” he shrugs nonchalantly but his cheeks twinge pink as he speaks, watching me open the box and pull out the object, “i figured it would help when i’m on roadies, and i thought maybe we could test it out tonight.”

my brows furrow as i cock my head to the side.

“test it-” i echo, momentarily speechless by his bold statement, “what, you wanna watch me masturbate?”

Alex chuckles at my confusion, shaking his head, “no, although i’ll definitely file that for a later date. i wanna use it on you.”

“oh.”

i let the idea ping around in my head for a few moments, my legs pressing together at the thought of him holding this toy between them, controlling my pleasure.

“okay.” i nod.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” i repeat, setting the box to the side, as well as the vibrator that fits perfectly in my hand.

i turn, climbing over to straddle his waist as i pull his lips towards mine, “thank you, baby, i love it.”

our lips meet in the middle, slow yet crude kisses shared between us. his tongue slips past my lips, exploring my mouth with fervor, as though it hasn’t been in the same position a million times before.

“i already charged it and washed it yesterday.” he tells me, his sentence broken up by my lips pressing against his.

i acknowledge his words with a soft moan, the energy between us heating rapidly as i gently grind my hips down against his. my silk pajama shorts, slide easily over his sweatpants, which i know for a fact is the only layer covering his slowly hardening cock.

we had changed into pajamas hours ago, before the movie, leaving him in only sweatpants, in which he never wears boxers underneath at home.

“crawl up on the bed, doll.” he pulls away, his hand slapping against my ass as i follow his demand, making my body jolt in surprise.

i lay with my head on my pillow, watching with baited breath as he moves the vibrator box onto my dresser before grabbing the vibrator itself off the mattress.

“take your shorts off.”

my thumbs tuck into my waistband, sliding not only my pajama shorts, but my panties down my legs. i flick them onto the floor as my boyfriend joins me back on the bed, sitting on his knees in front of my parted legs.

his free hand smooths over the skin of my leg, the other clicking the toy on and repeatedly pressing the button, trying out the different speeds and patterns before turning it off.

“relax.” he coos, nudging my legs open a bit more for him to fit between them.

he drops down to his stomach, his hot breath hitting against my damp pussy, and a mild shiver racks my body. his lust-blown eyes meet mine, holding contact as he lets a string of spit drop from his mouth and onto my clit.

turning the toy onto the lowest level, he gazes up at me as he lays it against my clit, my hips jerking at the sudden vibrations that reverberate through my core. his hand sprawls across my lower abdomen, holding my hips down as he circles the toy around my clit.

he watches with a grin as my head falls back against the pillows, my breathing turning into heavy pants.

“Alex.” i cry as he applies more pressure.

he presses the button again, the vibrations picking up in intensity and making me squirm underneath his touch. my back arches, eyes squeezed shut as my hands fist the sheets.

“look at you,” his hips grind gently against the mattress, his words barely heard over my cries of pleasure, “so pretty; getting wetter with each second.”

he rubs the vibrator on my clit, my stomach tying in knots with each passing minute that he holds the toy against me. pressing one last time, the vibrations gain intensity once more and my eyes roll back as my teeth sink into my bottom lip, biting so hard that i’m surprised i haven’t drawn blood.

my walls tighten around nothing, my hips wiggling as much as they can under his touch as i begin lightly grinding against the toy.

“Alex, i’m so close,” my words are whimpered in a hurried breath, my legs tensing and shaking as i resist every urge for them to close, “don’t stop! please, don’t stop!”

“i’m not gonna stop, doll,” true to his word, my boyfriend holds the vibrator still against my clit, my body trembling as my breath catches in my throat, “cum for me.”

as though i was awaiting his approval, i let go, a strangled moan escaping my lips as i reach my orgasm.

“holy fuck.”

Alex chuckles at my reaction, turning the toy off when my hips jerk away from it. he tosses it to the other side of the bed, crawling over me as he smiles.

“that was so fucking hot.” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips.

as he pulls away, i can feel his fully hardened erection pressing against my thigh, and i immediately feel guilty that he didn’t get to cum. but spotting the look in my eye, Alex shakes his head.

“it’s okay, promise. i don’t wanna overwork you tonight when you still need to be able to walk on christmas.”

my head pushes back into the pillows as i laugh, my cheeks turning pink at the reminder that i can’t go multiple rounds without feeling it the next day.

his cock still pressing against me, my head finally clears enough to think, and i’m quickly nudging him off of me.

rising from the bed on wobbly legs, i pull my boyfriend by his hands until he’s sitting on the edge, taking my glasses off and setting them on the nightstand.

“what are you doing?” he questions, but i don’t respond, rather choosing to let my actions speak for themselves.

i sink down to my knees, watching as realization brightens in his eyes. i reach up, one hand trailing down his stomach and making his abs clench as my fingers tickle the area, and as soon as my fingers hook into his waistband, he’s lifting his hips; helping me nudge the sweatpants down his legs until i can finally pull them off.

tossing them beside me on the floor, i spit into my palm making sure it’s well lubricated before i wrap my hand around his length, his tip bright red as it glistens with precum.

running my thumb over his slit, he lets out a grunt, biting his lip as i spread the precum down his shaft for extra lubricant.

i lean forward, peering up through my lashes as i press my lips to his tip, kissing gently and coaxing a hiss out of his lips. his hands tangle in my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

my tongue darts out, kitten licking his tip before i take him in my mouth, sucking gently as i begin jerking his length. his grip on my hair tightens, curses falling from his lips as his head tips back, and his reactions only urge me to continue, letting my jaw go slack and relaxing my throat as i go deeper, breathing through my nose as my hands work whatever doesn’t immediately fit in my mouth.

“fucking skilled,” he gruffs, looking back down at me as i flatten my tongue against the underside of his cock, “that pretty little mouth, just for me.”

i moan in response, making his hips buck up, and his tip hits the back of my throat, making me gag around him, tears pooling in my eyes.

“shit, fuck!” Alex groans, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

i pull back, my lips releasing him with a pop, and gulp in a deep breath, my hands still pumping him as i catch my breath.

once i’ve deemed myself ready, i let my tongue loll out, relaxing my throat as i taking him in again, this time, as deep as i can go. one hand drops from his length, falling down to massage his balls as i try hard not to gag around him.

tears run down my cheeks as i bob my head and despite my greatest efforts, i gag each time the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. hearty moans drop from his lips, and i watch as his abs clench, his dick jerking in my mouth, signifying to me that he’s close.

“doll, i’m gonna-” he barely gets to finish his sentence before he tenses, his grip on my hair becoming even tighter as a grunts, cock pulsating in my mouth as ropes of cum coat my throat.

i continue pumping him, milking him dry until he finally sighs, using his hand in my hair to pull my mouth off of him. he stares down at me with darkened eyes as i open my mouth, showing off his sticky cum, before swallowing, opening again to show him it’s gone.

“fucking hell,” he sighs, hands dropping from my hair in order to lock around the back of my neck, pulling me up for a kiss, “i’m gonna marry you, you know that?”

i laugh, my throat sore and voice raspy from my previous actions, “yeah, i know.”

Alex grins, rising from the bed. he pulls me towards the en-suite bathroom, nodding his head towards the shower.

“wanna join me?”

i nod, pulling my pajama top over my head and throwing it on the counter, “but no more funny business! i can’t make breakfast tomorrow if i’m limping!”

he nods, holding his hand up as though he’s under oath, “i’ll be on my best behavior!”

my eyes roll as i turn the shower water on, looking over as i wait for it to heat up.

“somehow, that doesn’t comfort me.”

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 7 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: Please lemme know if you are liking this series I'm desperate for reassurance and validation <3

Synopsis: You're no longer in the hands of the enemy but the memories still linger. Ghost helps you through a nightmare. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: injuries, nightmares, torture, kinda graphic, non-con touching (men are creeps) Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign Rags): Hurt/comfort. Loads of fluff. Nightmare trope!

———

It was pitch black when you woke. You reached up to tug at the eye mask when a warm hand covered yours, pulling it gently over your head. Cobalt eyes met yours.

“Ghost.” You breathe. You missed him.

“The very same.” He replies with a gentle nod. Soap and Gaz have left and the Lieutenant has dragged a chair over to your bedside; barely leaving any room for his legs. He is leaning forwards, tattooed forearm resting on the rail and dangling near your thigh. He’s no longer in uniform or tactical gear; his mask replaced by a simple black balaclava. Suddenly you realise you have no idea where you are. He tilts his head, watching you as though he can see the thoughts running rampant behind your eyes.

“Where are we?” You ask, thankful your voice isn’t as scratchy as it was before. Ghost leans back a little but keeps his arms resting on the rail.

“A base somewhere in Europe, I’ve not really asked to be honest.”

You frown, “That’s unlike you.”

“Yeah well,” he laughs softly, though it isn’t a happy sound, “geography wasn’t quite the priority, was it, love?”

“Suppose not,” you mumble. His eyes soften and he reaches out to pat your knee.

“I’ll ask Price when I see ‘im. It’s somewhere nearby, though. Didn’t have enough time to RTB.”

You nod slowly, fingering one of the wires by your side. Ghost just watches, waiting for you to speak.

“No one’s told me anything.” You feel like a child being left out of adult discussions. “Haven’t even spoken to the doc, Price didn’t properly debrief me – even Soap and Gaz wouldn’t talk about it. What am I missing here?”

The Lieutenant knew it was coming. He’d waited to see you just for this reason. You needed rest, not intel.

Ghost sighs. “How about I get you a cuppa? Let’s start there.”

———

Broken ribs, cigarette burns, slight pneumonia, minor internal bleeding, a handful of lacerations – to name a few. Ghost had brought you your file and held your steaming mug of camomile while you flipped through.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to a thick black line, roughly drawn. “Why’s someone redacting my personal medical shit?”

“The same reason Price won’t debrief you yet – you need rest, Rags.” He swipes the file from your hands and before you can argue settles the steaming mug in your grasp instead. You glare at him as you try not to spill it, craning your neck to take a sip. Ghost shakes his head and wraps an arm behind your back, supporting your weight while he readjusts the pillows. You lean back, his hand lingering until it’s pressed between your warmth and the bed. He lowers himself back into the chair, his hands wrapped around his own mug.

“That isn’t fair.” You finally say, too tired to argue but not willing to let the subject drop. “I have the right to know.”

Ghost takes a long sip before replying. “You do.”

“Then why–“

–“Because it’s a lot.” He says, cobalt eyes firm as they hold your gaze. “It’s a lot and you aren’t well yet. You can barely sit up on your own and can’t stay awake for more than a couple of hours. Please trust me, you’ll know in time.”

“But I want to know now,” your mumble, looking down as tears prickle against your will. The Lieutenants eyes soften.

“I know you do.”

“I just don’t like not knowing things.” A tear escapes. You swipe at it angrily.

“I know you don’t.”

“I just –“

–“I know.” He nods, wrapping a hand around your wrist, sliding it up to your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your lip is wobbling now but Ghost doesn’t move. His thumb swiping over the soft part of your wrist. Back and forth.

“I know, Rags.”

And you get the feeling that he does. He doesn’t talk much about his past but you can recall a few months ago when a mission went awry and you walked in on Gaz stitching him up – shirt rolled to hang loosely around his neck. Scars weren’t abnormal for soldiers, but the markings were repetitive and consistent. Corporal punishment. Something you were all too familiar with as of late.

The Lieutenant doesn’t stop. Gentle and slow. Letting you know you were with him and you were safe. He watches as you fight the sleep weighing heavily on your eyelids.

And when your eyes fall shut and your breathing deepens he still stays.

———

“Ah, дорогая,” a voice whispers menacingly in your ear. Fingers stroke down your cheek, your chest and down over your navel. Your stomach muscles ripple and flinch away on impulse. The chain rattles as you lean away from his touch. His grin widens, yellow teeth glinting.

“Ready to talk?”

You clench your teeth; jaw locked and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth.

“Still not talking, дорогая?” He’s rougher now, hand coming to grasp your throat, the squeeze a warning.

“I have nothing to say.” You spit out, swallowing against his hand. He chuckles.

“So feisty.” He shakes his head, patting your cheek roughly. “It won’t last. You’ll be screaming soon. I’ve always found the screams of women far more satisfying than men.”

The smell of burnt flesh wafts up to your nose and you look down. He’s holding a lighter against your bare torso. Why can’t you feel it? You watch as your flesh melts away into a gaping trench; your eyes watering at the stench. Blood bubbles and boils around the edges. The pain hits you in a wave, bursting and overflowing. The damn breaks and a scream rips from your throat. He laughs then, tipping his head back as he watches you writhe.

“Rags!” Hands shake you roughly, wrapping around your shoulders. You try to shake them off but they refuse to let go.

“Rags!”

Your eyes snap oven, hair sticks to your sweat covered face and you fight the hands holding you still.

“No, no, no, please!” You can’t help but cry, twisting in their grip. “Please.”

“Rags.” The voice is soft but firm. “Look at me.”

That voice. Where have you heard that voice?

You wrench your eyes open, tears pool and trickle down your cheeks. Cobalt blue stares back down at you, blond brows creased in concern.

“Rags? Are you with me?”

You’re gasping like a fish out of water. Chest heaving; breath ragged.

“G–Ghost?”

His mask has slipped down, lower than you’ve ever seen it. With a shaking hand you tug it back up. He catches your wrist, a finger circles and tickles your palm.

He nods, his other hand stretches out and gently brushes strand of hair away from your forehead. “S’alright. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You feel so tired. Rung out like a rag and set to dry in the wind. His hand has settled on your cheek. Cautious and gentle. “They took my camomile.” You whisper and Ghost tilts his head, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Your face crumples under his concerned gaze.The thoughts running through your mind are no longer logical. “The camomile I keep in my spare pocket – they took it.”

His thumb swipes under your eye, catching a tear. He frowns, “That’s ok, I’ve got some with me.”

Your chest heaves again and a sob slips from your mouth. “I was worried you wouldn’t have any left and Soap and Gaz only drink coffee – Price too.”

“Oh, darling.” He breathes, eyes sad as he strokes your jaw.

–“and you would have no-one to drink camomile with if I was gone.” You gasp, now clutching at his own wrist was you ramble. Your breathing is picking up again, a machine beeps more rapidly behind you.

Ghost’s face has crumpled completely as he watches you, unsure what to do. Your grip on him tightens, almost grasping the Lieutenant as though he will slip away.

“Would you like a hug?” He asks, throat constricting. He knows how hard it is to accept touch after experiencing the nonconsensual grip of the enemy. You nod frantically. It feels like you are falling apart at the seems and you need him to hold you while you sew yourself back together.

Slowly – making sure his hands are always in your line of sight – Ghost collapses the bedrail and slips in beside you.

“Show me where I can put my hands, love.” He murmurs in your ear and with shaking hands you guide his arms around you. You settle against his broad chest, your breathing slowly syncing with his own.

“Thank you.” The words so quiet he can barely hear it. He tucks you in closer, resting his chin against the top of your head.

“This ok?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod gently against him.

“Stay?”

“No place I’d rather be.”

— — —

Masterlist

Next Part:

[theautumnpicker]

Be next, what you have ever been, Infinity

Gale proposes with a special ring of his own creation. Astarion thinks he's teasing. Read on AO3 here. Happy birthday Rambo @mystraguideme!!!

“…if you would honour me with your hand.”

Gale is playing the part well, that is certain; he had dropped to one knee and is now holding up a ring box between them. The ring itself is a pretty little thing, a solid gold statement ring in pattern that resembles a sunburst, or perhaps a crown.

Astarion laughs and offers his hand. “So this is why you’ve been locked away in that study of yours for so long. This is no ordinary ring, I imagine?”

As Gale slips the ring on his left index finger—a perfect fit, naturally—he remains on his knee. “Indeed, my love, you have the right of it. It is imbued with a powerful enchantment of my own creation.” Astarion can hear the note of pride in his voice. “A spell designed to protect the wearer from sunlight.” Gale lifts a finger as if in warning. “At the moment, the magic has … limited charge. For your own safety, I’d recommend using it for no more than three hours per day. But worry not, I am still working to refine the spell and extend the duration, and I will not rest until—”

“Gale, it’s perfect.” Astarion cuts him off, resting his newly-adorned hand on Gale’s cheek and watching him lower his hand. “This is already more than I ever could have hoped for. Thank you.” But there is still a measure of doubt on his lover’s face, and Gale remains for some reason kneeling on the ground before him instead of standing up to embrace Astarion.

Before he can ask what’s wrong, Gale surprises him a second time, his voice full of trepidation. “I can’t quite help but point out that you haven’t given me an answer.”

For a moment, Astarion is genuinely at a loss as to what he might be talking about. All at once, it dawns on him, and his right hand flies to cover the expression of horror on his face. “Sweet hells, you’re serious?”

Gale, for his part, is reaching up towards him, his voice pitched with desperate anxiety. “Of course, the ring is not contingent upon your agreement to marry me. It occurs to me only now that it might seem—of course, you can keep it—” His face is flushed red with mortification, the usually-eloquent wizard stumbling suddenly over his words.

“Oh, you sweet, romantic fool.” Astarion can’t help himself. He pulls Gale to his feet and wraps his arms around him, shaking with silent laughter, though even he isn’t quite sure what could be so funny about this situation. “By the gods, you really mean this?”

“More than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. But of course, even if marriage isn’t what you imagine for us—”

“No. I mean, not no. I mean…”  It’s Astarion’s turn to stumble over his words now, as he pulls back from their embrace. “I honestly never seriously thought about it.” He winces, because he can tell Gale is a little crushed. “I’m not saying no! I just— I suppose I have questions.”

“Such as?”

It takes Astarion a moment to formulate his swimming thoughts into a coherent question. “I want to know what I’ll be getting myself into. Is this forever? Or is this for the next few decades, until your life reaches its, ehm…” There’s no pretty way to say this. “… natural conclusion.”

“Until I die, you mean,” says Gale, with a tone of voice that is somewhere in between amused and affronted. “Of old age, more wizened and wrinkled than Elminster.”

“Well. Yes.” Astarion raises an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’s a question worth asking, given the circumstances?”

“I suppose that’s fair. A lifetime with me must seem like the blink of an eye to you.”

Though Astarion winces, he can’t bring himself to disagree. He’d marry Gale anyway, he thinks, and count the next 60 years as the best of his life. But he’d rather know beforehand if there is an expiration date.

“If you really must know, I intend to stick around. If you’ll have me. I have a few ideas in the works to that effect. Though I imagine that must make it more intimidating, not less; I mean, gods know what I’ll be like after twenty years, let alone two hundred. I understand if you’d rather not commit to an eternity—"

“Yes.” Astarion silences him again with a kiss. “Yes, forever.”

[virgroxaan-traumatizes-ocs]

Laphirate, The Watcher of Fate

(Please read The Disappearance of Alvarez before this!)

Laphirate is the only being that knows exactly who Virgroxaan is and what her intentions are. She also knows that she is Virgo’s top target.

Laphriate is another part of The Creator. She was tasked with managing fate. Fate is what holds every world together. Without it, reality would fall into chaos. It is her duty to make sure that is never the case. However, that means she can never interact with the outside world…

Unless someone were to take her place.

This is Aino, the creator of worlds (made by kira-does-art-sometimes)

When/if Laphirate needs to attend to something, Aino is the one who steps in and manages fate.

…Well, that used to be the case.

One day, Aino became extremely burnt out from their job of creating worlds and helping Laphirate when she needs it. They just wanted to rest. Just a moment where they can lie down and enjoy a peaceful sunny day.

“Why don’t you?” A voice questioned.

Although Aino had never heard this voice before, it sounded…familiar, somehow.

“You can take a small break. Everything will be okay. Come on, I’m sure Laphirate won’t mind.”

So, Aino pitched the idea to Laphirate, and she responded by saying “as long as you don’t take too long, I don’t see any reason why you cannot.”

…

Thousands of years later, they still did not return.

Virgroxaan took this opportunity to break Laphirate as much as possible, by first breaking something, or rather, someone that she held dear.

Alvarez.

Laphirate was forced to watch as Virgroxaan tore them apart. Broke them down. Destroyed their soul until.

Eventually, Laphirate couldn’t take it anymore.

In an instant, fate was broken.

If Laphirate hadn’t responded quickly, the universe would have been eradicated. And she could never let that happen.

…

Even if it required sacrifice.

Laphirate sacrificed part of herself to save fate. That is what caused her to spiral.

She found herself sacrificing more and more of her being in a desperate attempt to keep fate afloat. She felt Virgo’s voice getting to her head. Telling her to let go. To rest.

To fall.

And one day, she did.

…

Laphirate fell, but she did not hit the ground.

She was caught by Aino, the very person who caused her spiral.

“I’m sorry, Laphi. You can rest now, I can take care of things from here.”

“Don’t you mean we can take care of things from here?”

Another voice called out from behind them. It belonged to Alvarez.

(Made this with the power of friendship ft. asterixtheglitterguy)

“What? I don’t trust you with doing this alone! You’ll probably fall asleep on the job or something!”

“Mmm…fair point. Do what you want, pipsqueak.”

“Haha! Don’t worry Laphi, I won’t let you down!”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Not at all!”

So of course, Laphirate took the opportunity to rest and recover. She would return as soon as she felt ready to do so. She had quite a lot of faith in Alvarez and Aino, despite their flaws.

…

She just hoped they wouldn’t cause too much destruction in her absence.

Ok so once again I am writing this at 2 am so apologies if the quality isn’t great. I’m gonna be simplifying a lot of these stories (with one exception), but all of them will be really fun!

Thanks for reading! Have a great rest of your day!

[partlystiles]

Thank God For Quidditch - James Potter

Thank God For Quidditch - James Potter

james potter x fem!reader (smut)

summary: After Gryffindor fails to win a Quidditch Match, the other team’s captain’s teasing causes something in James to snap and the next thing he knows, he has her falling apart in his grasp.

word count: 4,795

warnings: NSFW, thigh riding, unprotected sex, praise, choking, hair pulling, swearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing inflates someone’s ego like praise. Y/N L/N knew that all too well, spending her days basking in every single compliment thrown her way for whatever she did whether it be someone liking her outfit or talking about the Quidditch game she had won the previous week. Whatever it was, Y/N thrived off of it all and the only thing more buzzing than an actual Quidditch match was the aftermath where people talked about it for hours on end and asked the team captain, Y/N, for a full recount of the match.

The biggest match was the one at the end of the year between the two houses in the finals. Also known as the one that her team had just won, their seeker catching the snitch in her hands with a loud laugh as the crowd erupted with noise and the commentator screamed about her skills. It was always the crowd that spurred Y/N on, their screaming smile and happy shouting making her feel proud of her team and her skills whilst she zoomed after the small little ball in the air.

“Yes, Y/N!” The team yelled in different variations as she flew down to the ground with the snitch still in her hand as the crowd raced each others out of the stands to come down to the field. She dismounted her broom and left it in the pitch before she raced over to her friends and threw herself into the Keeper’s arms and he twirled her around.

The cheering became louder as he lowered her and their heads snapped over to every tower where students were filtering out and running behind Madam Hooch who was approaching with the Quidditch cup in her hands. Other teammates patted her back in congratulations as she took the cup in her hands from Madam Hooch with glinting eyes at her accomplishment.

“Woah!” She exclaimed as the two beaters lifted her onto their shoulders and she was lifted above the shouting crowd with the cup in her hands. Even people supporting Gryffindor in the match were crowding around them and shouting congratulations, cheering with their friends banners instead of their red ones.

There was another sea of red further away from the ones in the crowd and Y/N’s eyes zeroed in on the large number 7 printed on the back of the Gryffindor Captain’s uniform as he walked not-so-calmly towards the changing rooms. He looked on the verge of a temper tantrum and Y/N smirked at the memory of his earlier words.

“Enjoy the pity party after the match, L/N.” James Potter had said, glaring as the two of them shook hands in the centre of the pitch. The grip was tight, both of them seeming like they were trying to cut off one another's circulation so the Chaser couldn’t carry the Quaffle and the Seeker couldn’t grasp the snitch.

“I’m sure you’ll throw it great, I’ll be at the actual party with the rest of my winning team.” She replied, a bitter smile on her lips as her crescent nails scraped over the material of his glove in the tight grip.

“It’s nice to have dreams, even if they are pathetically unrealistic.” He shrugged his shoulders as they let go of each others hands on Madam Hooch’s orders and walked away from each other to mount their brooms and fly up to their starting positions.

She had vowed to make him eat his words which thanks to her wonderful Quidditch skills, he had and now he was storming back to the changing rooms one second away from snapping his beloved broomstick in anger. Sirius Black was walking close to him and the other members of the team were walking back up to the castle instead of the changing rooms. 

“Put me down, put me down.” Y/N laughed as she tapped one the heads of the two team members holding her up in the air; they let her down with a laugh and being up there was definitely better than being down on the floor where people were still cheering. “I’m gonna go rub it in Potter’s face.”

“Have fun.” Cory Michaels, one of the Beaters who had held her up, leaned down in excitement to kiss her cheek before he pushed her away and she started to worm her way through the crowd.

The praise followed her out of the clump and she soaked it all in with a smile whilst squeezing through the gaps between people  who milled around the edge of the large ground, someone yelled and she glanced back with a scoff to see Cory being held in the air with cup that she had given to Cressida Bridge in his hands. 

Jacob Jones was one of the last people who complimented the game on her way out of the circle, after she had passed him she broke into a small jog to get to her destination. The changing rooms weren’t that far away from the centre of the pitch but it was a fair distance, Y/N would do her bragging then return to her common room for the afterparty...there was always something inside her that itched to make James angry especially after Quidditch matches. 

It was the way his eyebrows scrunched in irritation or the way that his cheeks flushed a bright red from the effort and sweat glistened on his skin from flying around the pitch and tossing the Quaffle around. Y/N was sweaty too, slipping the gloves off of her hands as she walked so they were free of their confines and the breeze hit them almost immediately because of her jogging.

Slowing down into a walk as she got closer to the changing room, she took off her shin guards and held them with her gloves. She was half-tempted to take her ponytail out but decided against it until she was having her shower and could cool herself down. 

A few metres in front of her, the doors to the changing rooms opened and Sirius Black came out with pursed lips as he shut the door behind him and went to start walking but he froze at the sight of the opposite teams captain walking towards him. She had a smirk on her face, her eyes glinting with mischief as she stared at Sirius and he shook his head slowly towards her, his own smile peeking up.

“Not a good idea, beautiful.” He said as she got closer but all she did was smile at him and give him a small chuckle as she passed and he started walking with a smile. “Your funeral.”

Disregarding his comment, Y/N slowly pushed open the door to the changing room and saw Potter tugging a shirt on with his back to her. It was a simple white t-shirt and black jeans but he tugged the top on so aggressively that she wanted to laugh but just settled on closing the door and leaning against it before throwing her gloves and shin guards down onto the nearest bench with a clatter.

“I don’t want to hear it, Padfoot, you made your point.” He grumbled as he grabbed a bottle from his bag and put it up his shirt, spraying it in the direction of his armpits and Y/N wrinkled her nose up in disgust. “I’m overreacting.”

“I don’t know what a padfoot is-” She began to say and James jumped out of his skin as he whirled around and nearly stumbled whilst putting the cap back on his aftershave. “- but I’m not it.”

His expression turned sour as he stared at her and he turned back to his belongings to start packing his uniform in his Quidditch bag quickly, more aggressive now that she was in the room. “Come to gloat?”

“Yes, actually.” Y/N nodded with a smile and pushed herself off of the wall, walking closer to where James was packing his stuff up and she leaned against the wall beside that instead, meeting James’ eyes as he glanced at her. “What happened out there? You’re bad anyway, but today you were horrible.”

“Shut up.” He scowled, grabbing his red jersey and stuffing it into the bag on top of the Quidditch sweats they were all made to wear. Y/N only smirked slightly wide as she saw that she was affecting him.

“I mean, the Finbourgh Flick was a good tactic.” She continued casually as the rustling of the clothes got louder and James breathed more heavily in anger. “Too bad it didn’t work.”

“Quit it, will you?” He snapped at her, eyes flaring as the eye contact was made but he looked away with a rising and falling chest. 

“The reverse pass was good on your part as a Chaser.” Y/N continued and James’ hands fumbled with his stuff whilst his face heated up with the humiliation and the anger. He glared heatedly her had the urge to just...push her into a wall and kiss her right on the mouth so she would shut up.

What?! He blinked for a second, erasing the thought from his mind with a shake of his head...the thought of kissing her should disgust him but through his angry haze he didn’t seem to be bothered whilst looking away from her features that glowed and glistened with a thin layer of sweat that looked disgustingly enticing in that moment.

“But that failed too...” She frowned mockingly and he glanced back up, eyebrows furrowing in anger and his hands itched to press her shoulders against the wall she was leaning on. Rendering her speechless. So he could have a moment of peace. “Your chasing skills were okay but same couldn’t be said for your captaincy...should’ve brushed them all up on their passes. That’s on you.”

He snapped, jerking away from his bag and towards her, his hands reaching to her arms as he slammed her back against the wall she was leaning on in anger and shoved his lips against hers to shut her up. She jolted slightly at the impact but she accepted the kiss as he stood an inch apart from her, hands gripping at her arms and eyes closing but still full with anger at the sight of her though they softened slightly behind is eyelids when he realised he had just pinned someone against the wall, kissed them roughly and let his anger get the best of him.

He pulled away just as roughly, panting whilst his eyes searched every detail on her face in fear he had made her uncomfortable in any way; it hadn’t been his intention but she just made him so mad. “I’m, uh, sorry.”

She panted just as heavily as him, her breath having been stolen by the way he slammed her against the wall and then his lips had pressed against hers with vigour. Though as his blazing eyes searched her face, he found no sign of uncomfortableness or disgust, instead he saw the smirk twitch at her lips again.

“Don’t apologise.” She breathlessly told him, licking her lips and James eyed the wetness that now covered them as he gulped at the sight and his eyes flicked back up to hers again. “Do it again if you’d like.”

Then she winked at him and James swore he went into cardiac arrest for a moment but he regained himself quickly before looking at the wetness on her lips and diving in again, pressing his lips roughly against hers before pulling back and doing it again and again and again. Like he was addicted. But he was still angry which he didn’t understand...James’ grip tightened on her arms slightly as he took a step closer so their noses nearly touched and he kissed her on the lips again.

Y/N responded as best she could, but the kisses he delivered were short and rough, not ones were she could give him the pleasure of kissing back. So she just let him attack her lips with his, feeling them bruise with every bit of pressure was put onto them with his endless kisses that came again and again and again. Every kiss got him more worked up it seemed and for one of them, he planted his lips onto hers and just pressed them there for longer, letting the feeling consume him.

She had no problem with it, just wished he would do something else to stimulate her building arousal. James grunted at one point and she prepared herself for his touch, his tongue pressed against her lips and she opened them immediately, welcoming him inside with a small, escaped breath. His tongue circled around hers, moving around her mouth as they groaned in unison. 

Y/N desperately wanted to touch him somehow, but he still had her arms in his tight grip despite the fact that he was almost pressed against her completely and there wasn’t even any way she would want to leave now. She moved her tongue too and he grunted again, finally moving his hands from her arms to her his but still keeping her pressed against the wall.

She moved her arms out to wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her and letting her hands play with his hair, tugging at it slightly and making him groan as his hands travelled slightly higher but he stopped when he realised she was more or less still in her full Quidditch Uniform

He disregarded that fact for a minute and let his lips travel down across her jaw to her neck where he ducked his head down and she leant hers back to give him more access, his lips sucked gently at the skin as he kissed her neck and gave the occasional blow which caused a shiver down her back and the slightest arch.

James chuckled lowly at her back arching slightly and she groaned slightly at the sound and the breath on her neck, his kisses went further up her neck until he was dangerously close to her and she felt them skim her earlobe before his voice invaded her hearing. “I knew you liked me.”

She could practically hear the cocky smirk through the small laugh as he nipped gently at her earlobe before travelling his kisses back down to her neck. Y/N rolled her eyes and used her hands to grab James’ face before bringing him to face her. Both of them were breathing heavily and James quirked his eyebrows up at her as she made them meet eyes.

“Shut up.” She said to him breathlessly, pulling him back in to connect their lips and he smiled into the kiss they shared before he went serious again and stuck his tongue into her mouth again. 

And again she welcomed it eagerly, the muscles circling around each other as they engaged themselves in a rough and passionate make out. James grabbed at her waist and pulled her right up against him, off of the wall so he could unzip the back of the jersey and push it off of her. He didn’t bother to unbutton the cape that attached at the bottom of the jersey so he just let it fall with it. 

So now she was just in her long-sleeved black shirt, her black joggers and her boots. Y/N quickly discarded of her shoes, throwing them to the side and letting her sock-covered feet land on the hard wooden floor below her before she pulled her socks off too.

 James didn’t waste any time in grabbing her by the back of her thighs and using his remarkable strength to hike her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and they engaged back in a heated kiss with his hands squeezing at her thighs and her hands running through his already messy hair.

He moved backwards as they kissed, both of their lips surely bruised by now from the roughness of their kissing. The feeling of her body against his was intoxicating and she craved so much more. James lowered himself onto one of the benches so she was now straddling him and they kept kissing one another, their heavy breathing loud amongst the thickening air of the changing rooms. 

Caught up in the moment, Y/N grinded against James who groaned into their kiss and put his hands on her ass, squeezing as she grinded again and their tongues found solace touching the other. Soft breathy moans from Y/N and small groans from James filled the changing room and she felt thankful for the rest of the team deciding to shower back up at the castle instead of in the changing rooms.

James started to kiss at the skin on her neck, sucking and pecking it as Y/N continued to grind on him with her small moans. “Want you to ride my thigh.”

“What?” She breathed out, breath catching in her throat as he started sucking in the same spot for a while, surely leaving a mark. 

“I want you...” He smoothed his tongue over the spot where he’d been sucking and Y/N exhaled shakily, bucking her hips. “to ride” He peppered kisses across the extra expanse of skin until his mouth had trailed up to her ear and he lowered his voice down to a whisper. “my thigh.”

“Okay.” Y/N moaned out softly and moved from straddling both of his thighs to straddling only one and looking at him to make eye contact, his eyes were alight yet dark with lust as he looked at her and before she started moving, his fingers ghosted over the hem of her shirt.

He pulled it off of her and she raised her arms so it slipped off easily and he threw it across the changing rooms without looking for an exact place to throw it. He then pulled his own shirt off and threw it away too. 

His eyes were too busy travelling over the sight of her bra-covered chest and marvelling at the way it perfectly pushed up her breasts to where he could bury his face in them and kiss at the skin which made her moan out again as his hands groped at them hungrily. She tilted her head back as she felt his thumbs trace over the material of the cups and her nipples began to harden in arousal.

His fingers travelled around to her back and he unhooked her bra, pulling it off of her shoulders and throwing it in the direction of her shirt. He put his hands on her breasts again, groping at them and kissing them too, his hands just felt better now that it was skin on skin. 

“Move, baby.” He whispered against her skin and she breathed softly as she began to drag herself along his thigh, feeling the faint stimulation as the joggers pressed against her knickers and her knickers pressed against her vagina.

A shiver went up her spine as she continued to move against him, breathing shakily and getting faster with every rut. He flexed his thigh from underneath her and moved his hands away from her breasts towards her ass to move her faster against his thigh which had her gasping and gripping his shoulders and moaning whilst the stimulation against her clit got faster and rougher and his hands were squeezing her ass harshly. 

He groaned as she bucked faster, moaning whilst her fingers pressed into his skin and muscle. James even started to bounce his thigh which sent sparks of pleasure through her as her tits started to bounce on her chest and James watched them hungrily whilst they went up and down over and over and over again until she was a moaning mess on his body.

“I’m gonna-” She cut herself off with a loud moan, rutting faster in chase of her release as James leaned forward and stuffed his face into her neck, kissing and sucking and even nipping slightly at the skin there as he continued to bounce his hip. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, L/N.” He whispered roughly into her ear, squeezing her ass hard enough to leave a bruise as he bounced quicker and listened to the pretty noises that she let loose. “Do it for me.”

“For you,” She breathed out in a moan, tilting her head back whilst she thrusted faster and the lewd noises escaped her with no hesitation. “All for you.”

“All for me.” James chuckled into her ear and with one last loud cry of pleasure, Y/N released and continued to shake and stutter in her rhythm as she rode out of her high and James softly kissed her through it. “Well done, my girl.”

Y/N let her hands loosen their tight grip on him as she panted after her orgasm, letting her palms massage his shoulders instead of gripping them tight. James rubbed her ass before moving his hands up her back to smooth over the skin of her back whilst she calmed down.

“We’re not done yet.” He whispered into her ear and she moaned softly again at the declaration. James began to stand, making Y/N stand too and he slowly lowered his hands to pluck at the waistband of her joggers. 

He crouched slowly, bringing the joggers down with him until they were pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them. His fingers travelled back up to get the waistband of her knickers and he pulled them down next, smiling cockily at the sight of the glistening wetness inside of it. She stepped out of those too and James stood back up with them still in his hand, her grabbed her face in his hand and showed them to her as her cheeks squished in his hold.

“Made such a mess.” He tutted, moving his hand that held her face so she was shaking her head. The confidence and dominance radiated off of him like he was a raging fire spreading smoke up into the air, Y/N loved it and the way he held her face in one hand made her go crazy. 

James threw her knickers away too and she was left naked in front of her half-naked Quidditch nemesis. Who knew that this is where they would end up? Y/N moved her hand, getting the urge to make him feel good and she reached out towards his joggers, wanting to touch the bulge that had grown there but James grasped her hand before she could touch it and tutted again.

“I wanna make you feel as good as you made me.” She told him, words muffled by his hand squishing her cheeks but he understood her anyway by the way he smirked at her.

“You will make me feel good.” He released her cheeks and grabbed her hips instead, pulling her against him so her breasts pressed against his bare chest and she groaned slightly at the feeling. “By letting me fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Y/N moaned at the thought, trying to pull him down for a kiss but James pulled away which made her whine slightly. He chuckled at her noise as he began to walk them back against the wall and she shivered once her back pressed against the cold tiles and James towered over her with an aura of dominance. The rustling of his pants made her look down to where he was pushing both his joggers and his boxers down his legs before stepping out of them.

Y/N’s eyes trained to his erection and she licked her lips at the sight before looking up to James who smirked at the look in her eyes before wrapping his own hand around his dick and pumping it just to tease her because he said she couldn’t do it before. He let go of his dick, crouched and looped his arms underneath her thighs, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist like they had before as her weight was supported against the wall.

She moaned slightly as her pussy touched his bare body and he just smirked at her before pushing his hard dick into her with no prior prepping and enjoying the way her head tilted back against the wall with a large moan scraping at her throat. He went in slowly, watching her mouth fall agape further as one of her hands pressed against the wall behind her another grappled at his shoulder, with every inch that went in, the wider her mouth fell with the pleasurable pain he was delivering.

James bottomed out and held himself in there for a couple of seconds, kissing at her neck and sucking another mark whilst she got comfortable. His other one he had made stood out as a bright red blotch on the side of her neck and James kissed at that again, Y/N whimpering at the touch.

He began to pull out in a slow pace before taking his time pushing back in, he continued the slow pace as he let her get used to it. The feeling was remarkable and Y/N moaned softly as he slid in and out of her agonisingly slow.

“Faster.” She panted, her chest heaving and James stopped altogether, bringing her to whimper but then his mouth was against her ear again.

“As you wish.” He said, his raspy voice heavenly in her ears and she allowed herself to revel in it for a moment before her peace was interrupted by James’ hips slamming into her and causing a loud moan to pour out of her lips as he kept thrusting into her whilst she balanced herself against the wall.

His thrusts were relentless, in and out over and over. He spoke through gritted teeth whilst slamming and thrusting into Y/N. Moans were spilling from her lips with no mercy and her tits were bouncing up and down over and over as James   kept up his rough pace. He pulled out all the way and then slammed back in over and over and over again with praise and profanities spilling shamelessly from him. 

“Yeah, my good girl, fuck yeah.”

At his words, she let out moans which were met with groans from James as he thrusted in and out with his eyes on his girlfriends breasts which were bouncing for his view and Y/N attempted to bounce herself back on his dick with a screwed up face from the pleasure whilst her eyes tried to peak down at where James was thrusting into her but he reached back and pulled their hair so they were looking up at the ceiling of the changing rooms.

“James-” She cut herself off, their eyes rolling back in their head as James put a hand around her throat and laughed at their fucked out expression and went impossibly faster into her. The moan that she wanted to let out was blocked by his hand gripping her neck tightly, his fingers pressing into the skin whilst the sound of skin slapping echoed around the rooms.

“You like my hand around your pretty neck?” He grunted and she nodded, her hand on his shoulder going to touch his arms as a whimper made its way out and James laughed lowly. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes.” She choked out, moaning as James loosened his grip slightly when he felt his orgasm approaching. Y/N could feel her own, the coil slowly tightening in the pits of her stomach as her eyes rolled back again and James groaned louder. “James, fuck me.”

“Come on, baby.” He moaned, going faster and Y/N whimpered repetitively as his dick brushed against her g-spot and it prodded at the pressure point repeatedly. “Come on. Cum all over me, my good girl, cum on my dick.”

His words sent multiple shivers down her spine and finally, with motivation from James’ thrusts against her g-spot and his hand tightening on her neck again at the chase for his own release, Y/N let go and had her second orgasm all over James’ dick that was still pounding into her but starting to stutter in it’s rhythm. She clenched around him and it took a lot of self-control for James to pull out and let his own cum squirt up all over her torso.

Once both of their orgasms had mulled over, Y/N leaned her head forward and rested her forehead on James’ as they both panted and their chests went up and down in unison. James tilted his head so his lips could catch hers and Y/N responded softly, the kiss softer than their rough ones which had started the whole thing off.

“Thank god for Quidditch, huh?” Y/N muttered against his lips and he managed a chuckle, the two of them naked and sweaty but still laughing with each other after a failed match for one of them.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

[zodiakuroo]

pierced

idk what to tell you this is just 2k of pussy eating (don’t blame me blame eren brain rot)

18+, minors dni

part 2

“What did you do?!” You say, incredulously. It’s a rhetorical question, you can see exactly what he’s done. Eren stands in front of you, shamelessly, with his pants and boxers dropped to his ankles as his flaccid penis hangs between his thighs. Your attention is mainly focused on the brand new, shiny titanium barbell that goes through the head of his dick.

“Do you like it?” You can tell by his posture and the shit-eating grin on his face that he’s incredibly proud of his newest body modification.

“Why on earth would you get a piercing there?” The bulbous head is just few shades of pink darker than the rest of his pale shaft. You wince in your seat, imagining what it would feel like to stick a needle right through your most sensitive parts.

“Well, it was a dare and Jean bet that I wouldn’t so I had to.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, fully aware of how silly it sounds as he says it out loud.

“Of course.” You mutter. What other chain of events would lead to your boyfriend coming home with a fucking Prince Albert. “Does it hurt?” You lean in just a little closer and notice the little bit of dried blood where the jewelry pierces his flesh.

“Nah. Didn’t feel a thing.” He says with a wink and begins dressing himself again before dropping down on couch next you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest.

“You’re such an idiot.” You giggle, nuzzling your head into his neck, inhaling the heady scent you’ve come to associate with him.

“There is one thing though.” His voice is softer, lacking it’s usual self-assured tone. He can’t say that he’s happy about what he’s about to tell you. In fact, had he known about this small detail beforehand he might not have gone through with that stupid dare.

“Hmm?” You respond noncommittally, too preoccupied by your current task of leaving gentle kisses on his jaw and giving him the soft affection you know he loves but will never ask for.

“No sex for a month. Piercer’s orders.” His eyes drift down cautiously to gauge your reaction.

You stop in your tracks and frown up at him. At first you think he’s kidding but no such luck. “Oh my god.” You groan. “You’re such an idiot.”

Three days.

A grand total of three days.

It’s sad really, but you should have seen it coming. Like Eren Jaeger’s libido would ever let him go a whole 30 days with no sex.

He blames you and the way you prance around the apartment in those tight, short shorts. How is he not supposed to want you when he has to spend the day watching your tits bounce around in that white tank top, nipples just barely visible through the fabric?

It’s not like you put up much of a fight anyways. The way that man has you wrapped around your finger, all it took was a few well-placed touches and whispers of how much he misses the way you feel and the way you taste. Just like that, Eren has you naked, legs hanging off the edge of the bed with his face buried in your cunt.

“Love this pussy.” He murmurs, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “Can’t live without it.”

He knows that he can’t be inside you. He knows. And yet he continues to torture himself because this is as close as he can get to what he really needs.

The rough pads of his fingertips massage your wall making you buck into his hand, silently begging for something deeper. He laps at you with his tongue, running it from your clit all the way down to your hole, licking up the slick that leaks out around his knuckles.

You feel the sparks of pleasure heating up your abdomen and you squeeze your thighs around his head, weaving your hands through his long, mahogany locks. ‘Eren’falls from your lips over and over in breathy mewls that only encourage him to keep going. His fingers put in double time hitting the special spot deep inside you while he seals his lips around clit and pulls it into his mouth. You dig your heels into his back to give you leverage to rut into his face as he pushes you closer and closer towards an inevitable orgasm.

You’re so hot and wet inside, squeezing so tight around his fingers. His mind conjures up memories of how good it felt to have your gooey walls clamping down on his dick and the soft cries you let out as he split you open.

He’s rock solid in his sweats right now and his cock hurts, sensitive tissue swelling and pulsating around his still fresh piercing. But he can’t think about that right now. All that’s on his mind is how badly he wants to be inside you right now. Any of your holes, it doesn’t matter which. But they’re all off limits.

Quite frankly, it pisses him off.

There is no choice but for him to take his frustrations out on your body. He slowly drags his fingers out of you, marveling at the way your needy cunt tries to pull him back in.

Before you can even protest Eren presses his fingers, still warm from your pussy and covered in your cream, against your lips.

“Open up.” He practically growls, voice thick with arousal.

You part your lips in response, letting him clean his fingers off using your tongue. Reflexively, you close your lips around them and begin to suck, moaning at the taste of yourself.

“God, princess.” He pants with his jaw slack. “Want your mouth around me so bad.”

It only motivates you to take his fingers deeper. Deep enough to make you gag as your drool runs down his knuckles while you swirl your tongue around his digits.

The way you look at him doesn’t help either. Usually you’d shy away from eye contact when he makes you do something embarrassing like this, sucking on his fingers like you’re sucking on his cock. But tonight is different. You stare straight at him with that heavy-lidded gaze, eyes glossy and full of want. The frustration is killing him, he can’t stand to look at you anymore so instead he gives his undivided attention to your cunt.

“Babe you wanna know something?” His breath fans over your soaked core, making you twitch in his hold. Something gives you the feeling that he’s not really talking to you, he’s talking to what’s between your legs. Although he’s not even looking at you, you still nod your head yes, so wound up you’ll take anything from him at this point.

“I read online,” He goes quiet for a moment, distracted at the way your weeping hole clenches around nothing, almost like it’s begging for him to fill it. “That dick piercings feel real good in pussy. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Eren bends down to lick at your dripping hole, he slides his tongue all the way down, making sure not waste a single drop, stopping just above the tight ring of muscle making your squeal in surprise.

”Can you imagine it?” He drags is fingers from your lips, leaving a path of saliva down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach until he reaches your clit, rubbing the sensitive numb in slow, steady circles with his thumb while you fist the sheets trying to swallow the sounds he’s coaxing out of you. “How it’s gonna feel inside you? How it’s gonna hit that spot that makes you go dumb?”

Sure, he sounds composed but when you look down at him and see the way his pupils are blown wide, pretty pink tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth, you know he’s imagining it too.

“Gonna drive you crazy.” His calloused fingertips dig further into your pudgy thighs, clipped nails leaving little crescents indented in your skin. “Make you even more crazy for my cock than you already are.”

“Yeah ‘ren.” You gasp as he runs his tongue through your folds. “Wan’ your cock.” You babble mindless agreements at whatever filth he’s spewing, too fucked out and desperate for his cock to care.

Like the bastard he is, he chuckles at your response, satisfied with knowing that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He leans forward and presses the flat of his tongue against your entrance, telling you (wordlessly) what he wants.

Beg

He wants you to beg for it.

And of course you oblige. You chant out ‘please Eren, please Eren, please Eren’ over and over again as if you’ve forgotten every other word.

He rewards for your obedience by pushing the slippery muscle into your hole, nice and slow savouring the way your tart essence covers his taste buds.

“Fuck- more please.” Your back arches off the bed in response but his left hand splays across your abdomen keeping you in place.

His right thumb is still rubbing you, pressing harder, going faster while he drives his tongue even deeper licking up all of your juices like a man starved. He devours you shamelessly, the sloppy sounds only drowned out by your pornographic whining. He thrusts in and out, in and out, in and out, fucking you with his tongue, making sure to taste every inch of you.

Your flavor is addictive, he can’t get enough. He grunts against with his face shoved against you, sending vibrations from your core, right up your spine. His fingers and tongue assault your pussy mercilessly, setting every single nerve on fire.

“Baby- ah- I- I’m close” you whimper, feeling tension brewing in your core, threatening to burst at any second.

“No.” The hand that was playing with your pussy comes down hard on your puffy clit, the sound of the smack echoing in the quiet room.

You let out a cry, so high pitched you can hardly believe it’s your voice.

“Can’t come until I do.” Just like that, he’s off of you completely, leaving you trembling without his touch.

The pain and frustration have tears brimming at your lash line. How cruel of him. To dangle an orgasm right in front of your face before yanking it away. You begin to stammer out pleas, begging him to touch you again, but they fall on deaf ears.

“C’mon princess. ‘S only fair right?” He looks up at you with the sweetest, emerald puppy dog eyes, juxtaposing the lewd way he licks the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips.

It’s not fair at all. You weren’t the one who decided to get their dick pierced on a whim. Why should you have to suffer? But there’s too much blood in your throbbing cunt and not enough in your brain so you can hardly put together a coherent sentence, let alone argue with him.

“Gonna edge you like this every day yeah?” He shifts his body to hover over you, using his arms to hold himself up so that his nose barely brushes yours and stray stands of his messy hair tickle the sides of your face. “Till I get to fuck you again.” He dips down to kiss you on the lips. It’s barely more than a peck, far too chaste and gone far too soon.

“Christ, I can’t wait to fuck you again.”

[ray-ray-writings]

(Yes I know this is my second ask but shhh I had several ideas)

So you know how everyone goes on about Dream having both his human form and his blob form? Or some of the side aus where Quackity has his tiny fuck form when he’s on low health?

I’d humbly like to present to you, Pig Techno.

He gets on low health or maybe he’s just forced to transform every once in a while and you’ve got this teacup pig in your arms with the tiniest tusks. He just sits in your lap and “guards” you. Requests you take him everywhere with you so he can keep an eye on people by headbutting your ankle incessantly until you pick him up. Will get onto people later about things they did while he was pig. He makes tiny little snuffles and oinks and wiggles his little hooves around but he’s just so tiny and cute and you gotta love him.

Just Hold. Hold the pig. hold the tiny scarred baby. Acknowledge it’s your boyfriend but then ignore that fact as you kiss his little snoot and give him the best headpats.

(Alternatively Dadza turning into a crow from time to time and you walk around with this ominous sign of death on your shoulder but it’s just Philza tired as fuck and needing a place to rest.)

Again thank you for your wonderful writing! Ever love-🌻

(Please always feel free to send in asks. Ily very much 🌻 and I love interacting with you and reading your asks so please always feel free to send stuff in!!!!) (P.S. This is the last one for tonight! Hope you all have enjoyed!! Maybe more tomorrow, again idk because school is heckin stressful. We’ll see)

This is so so so so so so so so cute!!! Thank you so so so so much for this idea. 

So I imagine you’re like at home, sitting on the couch reading a book in front of the fireplace when you feel something smack against your ankle. It startles you a little bit and before you can look to see what it was, you get another smack on the leg and a small oink fills the air. You instantly know what has happened and you set down your book, reach down, and pick up the small pig and set him on your lap. “Are you okay?” You’d ask, your hand coming down and resting on tiny Techno’s back. He lets out a small snort and closes his eyes, as tries to bury his face against your thigh for comfort and warmth. You let out a small laugh, “Okay then. I’ll just cuddle and take care care in this form then” You get another snort in response. “Fair enough then”. You pick up your book once more and go back to reading, the hand that is resting on Techno subconsciously begins stroking up and down. At one point, he lets out an oink and you tear your gaze away from your book to look at him, “What?” you ask. He looks from you to the book and then back to you, “You want me to read to you?” another oink. “Alright then” and so then you begin reading out loud. Soon enough the small snores and squeals that you get when Techno is this tiny fill the air as he sleeps. 

If you are out in public and he’s a tiny pig, you have to be holding him. It’s the law… Okay it’s a Techno law. There was only one time that you didn’t follow this law and the bruising that appeared on your ankles after Techno smashed his face into them several times trying to get you to pick him up made sure that you never broke this law again. Also if you’re out in public, people have a tendency to coo over the small pig that you call your boyfriend. They never get to see Techno like this, so small and so unintimidating. So they coo over him and try to pet him, but Techno usually doesn’t let them, snapping at their fingers when they get too close to him. But once you scold him, Techno begrudgingly let’s them pet him. And he will never ever admit it but it actually feels kind of nice to be adored like this. Sometimes when you’re out in public and you’re seated somewhere, he will sit in your lap and cuddle you. These are the times where he doesn’t care the kind of scolding he gets, he will not let anyone near the two of you when he’s snuggled into you. Quackity once almost lost a finger because of how hard Techno had bit him with his tusks. Everyone tends to stay clear after that. And even if they don’t, Techno does have a stern talk with them when he’s back to normal.

I have an obsession with putting things on my shoulders okay? So like imagine you’re out walking with Techno in your hands and your arms get tired or maybe you have to carry something else and can’t juggle your boyfriend and the stuff so you just reach up and put him on your shoulder. Luckily he has enough balance and grace to sit himself down on your shoulder and remain there until you take him off. It would be so cute to see okay? Like you walking around with a tiny pig on your shoulder. You could ask questions out loud and Techno would give you small snorts, oinks, and squeals in response and although you may not understand entirely but you always get the gist. Techno always really appreciates how you act like everything is normal when he’s in his tiniest form. You don’t find it weird or off putting, you just accept it 100% and keep going. 

Something that you and him both love is snoot kisses. At random times you’ll pick him up and bring him close to your face and press multiple kisses to his snout. Sometimes Techno expects them and gives you little snorts and grumbles of appreciation but sometimes he doesn’t. The more surprised he is, the louder and higher pitched squeal you get. When he squeals it always makes you giggle and it makes him grumble in distaste afterwards, but he secretly loves it. You just give him lots of snout kisses because you both love it and it’s one of the easiest ways to show affection when he’s like this. It’s just very very cute. 

Bonus: Philza sees how much you take care of Techno when he’s like this and asks if he can come to you when he reverts to his tiny form and of course you say yes! So every once in a while, you’ll be walking around the SMP and suddenly a bird lands on your shoulder. It startled you the first few times, but now you’re used to it. People will look out their windows and see your cheerful self strolling around but there would be this big looming bird on your shoulder staring out around the world. Something really funny that I think happens is that sometimes Tommy will run up to you and be like “Y/N! Have you seen Phil? I can’t find him! Also, nice bird when did you get that” and you can’t help but chuckle, “No, no I haven’t seen Phil. Maybe he’s hiding so he can take a break… I’m sure he’ll be back soon and when he does come back he’ll find you… And my bird? Oh thanks! He’s not really my bird, he just comes and visits me sometimes” Tommy approaches you and tries to pet the bird but Philza snaps his beak and him and Tommy jumps back “I’m afraid he’s not feeling very friendly right now maybe next time… Now run along Tommy, go play with Tubbo okay?” Tommy glares at the bird but gives you a nod and runs away. Once he’s out of ear shot you begin laughing and Phil who is sitting on your shoulder begins cawing, which is the way he laughs in this form. “We got him good huh Phil?” You ask once you calm down and begin moving down the path more. He lets out a single caw and you know he’s agreeing with you. 

(Small note, I almost feel you get the nickname of Y/N small animal tamer and just anyone that turns into an animal or another form after taking a bunch of damage comes to you and just vibes with you until they heal and can turn back into their full form.

[thatfanficstuff]

Compliant - John Wick

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. guns, mentions of death, m/f smut including penetration, choking, dom behavior, um...i dunno.

A/N: Celebration Summer #12. Prompt is in bold below.

***

You certainly hadn’t expected to run into John Wick in the back hallway of the warehouse where you’d just killed fourteen men. As he stepped into view, you rolled your eyes and lowered your weapon though you didn’t put it away. There was no guarantee all the threats had been eliminated as you moved through the building.

John’s brow furrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, John? I’m doing my job. Is that alright with you?” Your words were clipped, sharp. The two of you had been fighting for over a week. Mainly about you taking too many risks.

He stepped closer, pausing when he noticed you still held your weapon before closing the rest of the distance between the two of you. He holstered his gun and looked over you with his dark eyes. “This isn’t a two person job. I can finish up. Go home and I’ll see you later.”

Irritation helped you resist the urge to close your eyes and just savor his rich voice. “I guess you’ll have to make me.”

One thin brow shot up and his jaw went tight. “Excuse me?” His voice turned hard.

You leaned forward, lips stopping a breath from his. “Makeme go home. This is my job. I’ll finish it. You go home.”

He growled and gripped your upper arms. You smirked as you straightened so you weren’t so close to him. “Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? It’s our job. It doesn’t matter who finishes it. Just go home. Take a bath. Dance on the graves of your enemies. I don’t give a fuck. Just do as you’re told.” He released you to pace the floor as he raked a hand through his hair.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn bossy?” You holstered your weapon, not having heard anything since John had appeared. Between the two of you, odds were everyone was dead. “You can’t just order me around. Asshole.”

His head snapped in your direction and his gaze turned even darker. In a flash, his hand was wrapped around your throat and your back was pressed against the wall. He leaned forward, his lips finding your ear. “What did you just say to me, princess?”

You swallowed as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Liquid pooled in your core. “You can’t just order me around.”

He hummed and pressed his thigh between your legs, his grip on your throat tightening ever so slightly. “Try again.” His voice had dropped about an octave from its usual pitch. Not fucking fair.

“You can’t just order me around, sir.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “There she is. Good girl.” His nose traced up the line of your neck before nuzzling against your ear. “Perhaps a good fucking would make you more compliant. What do you think, princess?” His tongue lathed your pulse point before he pulled the skin between his teeth and bit, marking you.

You whimpered and tried to press your legs together only to find his still between them. He pressed the hard muscle of his thigh against you. You rocked into him. Fuck.

“I asked you a question.” His voice rumbled, sending a tremor through you.

God, this man made you weak in all the best ways. “Yes, sir. Fuck me please.”

He smiled against your skin. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” A moment later, he had you turned to face the wall. He grabbed your hands and pressed them against the wall, to hold you up. His foot kicked lightly at yours, spreading your legs. Getting you into the position he wanted.

Hands at your hips grasped the waist band of your pants, tugging them down to give him access. His fingers found your folds, sliding through your slick, checking that you were ready for him. It never took you long. Not when he was like this. His front molded itself to your back as he hissed in your ear. “You are soaking. Is this all for me?”

You nodded and whimpered when his fingers slipped inside your core. “Missed you, sir.” The two of you hadn’t been intimate in days, not since the argument started. And god, did you miss it. Miss him.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you waiting then.” His fingers slid from you and a second later you heard his zipper. You adjusted your stance slightly to one you knew would take him better.

His hot, thick length pressed inside of you, making you rock up onto your toes before settling back into place. One of his hands ran up your arm to lace fingers with yours while the other slipped around your waist to support your belly.

He pulled out and slid back in, both of you moaning at the sensation. His head dropped forward to rest against your back. “Feel so good, baby. No more fighting. Missed you too much.”

You shook your head and arched your back so your ass pressed more firmly against him. “No more fighting, sir.”

He chuckled, always loving how you gave him control in your intimate moments. All but the head of his cock slid from you and he hesitated a second before slamming back into you. A half-scream tore from your throat. “Fuck,” John bit out at the sound. He quit restraining himself and began to pound in and out of you.

The hallway filled with grunts and moans and the sweet sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The scent of sweat and sex surrounded you. The hand on your stomach found your clit and rubbed just the way you liked. “Cum for me, princess.” You were already close and his words were enough to push you over the edge. He followed immediately after, painting your insides with his cum.

The two of you were still panting when John drew the gun from your holster and pointed it down the hallway, firing two shots. The thud of a body hitting the floor followed and John put your weapon back where it belonged. Huh. Guess you’d missed one.

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: jungkook picks y/n up from class & all eyes are on him

➺ pairing; badboy!jungkook x y/n 

➺ wordcount; 1.6k

➺ p.s. yes i’m aware this REEKS of 2012 wattpad clichés and i basically groaned and rolled my eyes the entire time i was writing this but i’m trying to redeem myself from the tragedy that was the 2018!badboykook fic and 2021!cee needed to get this out of her system!!! and sometimes cheesy things are good for the soul!! please enjoy this teeny tidbit and feel free to roll ur eyes with me 

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the maker of course :-))) 

                                     »»————-　🏍️　————-««

“can’t you ask jungkook to get us in?” jimin sighs frustratedly, nudging you with his elbow before reaching over and pulling the door open for you, “come on… this is going to be the party of the semester! we can’t miss it!”

“i’m sure there’ll be a big ol’ party next semester, jimin-” you roll your eyes playfully before shaking your head, “besides, we’ve been to dozens of parties already! the world isn’t going to end if we don’t go to this one, right?”

“but kim taehyung is hosting this one!” jimin exclaims, grabbing onto your elbow before giving you a shake, “and his parties are legendary. do you know what people are going to say if they find out i wasn’t there??”

good grief

you’ve come to really like jimin in the five-ish months that you’ve gotten to know him, but if there’s one thing you could change about him it’d be his obsession with campus parties

(sometimes you think that jimin probably wouldn’t hang around you as much if you weren’t dating jungkook and his magical ability to get into pretty much any party possible... but that’s a conversation you can have with him another day.)

“you care far too much about what people think.” you frown, shaking your head in disappointment, “i promise you no one’s going to care when you tell them you weren’t at one party-”

“come on…! please??” your eyes widen when jimin stops in his tracks and stomps down on the ground like a petulant child, his plush bottom lip pushed out in a pathetic little pout, “don’t do this to me, huh? just- just bring it up to jungkook and see what he says- promise me you’ll ask jungkook- please please please-”

“okay, okay!” you turn around to face jimin before letting out a huff, “fine. if it’ll get you to stop whining, i promise you i’ll ask jungkook about getting you-”

“-us-”

“-us- getting us into this dumb party.” you smile, crossing your fingers behind your back, “happy?”  

you most certainly will noT be asking jungkook about getting you guys into this party because you’re sick of going to parties!

sure, this is all part of your ~university experience~ but that doesn’t mean you have to go to a party every other weekend

you’d love to just stay in and sleep

god, you’d kill for a good, long night of sleep...

even thinking about it now is making you drowsy

“mhm!” jimin’s face immediately lights up in a delighted smile before he points over your shoulder, “you can ask him right now.”

“ask him n-” you glance over your shoulder, eyes widening in surprise to see jungkook waiting for you by the sidewalk, “-ow... uh, perfect!”

jungkook’s here!

...you… weren’t expecting him to be... here...

jungkook gives a couple of girls a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement as they walk past him with flirty giggles

“okay, uh-” you turn back to give jimin a stiff smile before crinkling your nose and holding a finger up, “would you mind waiting here for me?”

“i'll wait as long as you want me to as long as you get us into that party-!” jimin calls out after you as you hurry down the brick steps to jungkook

“holy shit. i’d love give his motorcycle a ride-” 

“mhm, any day... any day!” 

you stumble over your feet a little as two girls brush past you from behind, leaving a trail of sweet-smelling perfume tickling at your nose

“hey, there you are!” a grin spreads on jungkook’s face when he sees you coming towards him, pushing himself up so he’s not leaning against his motorcycle, “i was worried i was at the wrong building.”

“uh-huh, so what are you-” you clear your throat quietly before letting out a nervous chuckle, giving your boyfriend a chummy, super casual and not at all romantic punch to the chest, “what are you, uh, doing… here?”

“picking you up from… class?” he mocks your high-pitched tone with a boyish smile before pursing his lips, “you are done for the day, right? that’s what your schedule says.”

“yeah, i’m done, i just- wait a minute-” you frown, your eyes flickering to the side as you try to recall jungkook’s schedule, “shouldn’t you be in a biology lecture right now?”

“the prof dismissed us, like, forty minutes early.” jungkook shrugs, “so i thought i’d come and pick you up so that you didn’t have to walk all the way back to your dorm to meet m-”

“-why’d you take the bandaids off your cheek?” you interrupt him suddenly as you reach up to cup his face, gently brushing your thumb over the healing cut on his cheekbone (he was half-asleep and walked directly into the frame of the bathroom door), “i told you to keep them on for another day. i was going to take them off for you tonight.”

“they made me look lame.” he scrunches his nose and you immediately frown in disapproval, “plus, showing off the cut makes me look so much cooler-”

“that’s not a legitimate excuse-”

“it so is!” jungkook turns his head before pointing at it, “look at that and tell me you don’t think i’m cool-”

it’s not that you don’t love that jungkook knows what time you finish class and where exactly to pick you up (swoon!)- the thing that’s making you nervous is the fact that people naturally seem to just... stare at him whenever he’s around

to be fair, you would stare too if you didn’t know him!

the all-black outfit, the perfectly tousled hair that never seems to be out of place, the obviously very handsome face, and the shiny shiny motorcycle that makes a very obnoxious vrOOm-vroOOom sound whenever he revs the engines

you’re not embarrassed to be seen with him because you are very!!! fond of your boyfriend but…

well, it’s just that if they’re staring at him, they’re most definitely staring at you, too  

and sometimes you worry that you don’t look very compatible with jungkook... and then you worry that people are laughing at you and only you... and then you wonder what people mutter to each other whenever they walk past you two and give you that awful ‘how did someone like you land someone like him?’ stare... and then you feel like you have to prove that you’re dating jungkook but you don’t want to make a scene...

it certainly doesn’t help that there are rubber-duckies on your socks

also, it’s hitting you now that it’s pretty hypocritical to call jimin out on how intense he is about other people’s opinions of him when you’re so in your head about this

jungkook tilts his head curiously when he notices you glancing around like there’s a big target on your back and he resists the urge to snort

he knows exactly why you’re so twitchy, and as much as he wants to reassure you and tell you that literally no one is paying attention to the two of you - and even if they did, who cares? - ...well, he’s allowed to have his fun, isn’t he?  

“oh, what’s the matter, sweet girl? you still embarrassed to be seen with me?” jungkook coos mockingly, slipping an arm around your waist as he pulls you in towards him with a cheeky grin, “hm? don’t want anyone to see your big, bad boyfriend?”

“jungkook-!” you grip onto his forearm in alarm when he leans in, nudging his nose under your jaw so he can give the side of your neck a teasing bite, “cut it out, you weirdo-” your face immediately goes bright pink and you reach up to flatten your palm against his chest to create some distance, “jimin’s still over there-”

“is he?” jungkook hums, giving your warm cheek a kiss before pulling away and looking up towards the staircase, “ah, yep. i see him...” he gives jimin a wave accompanied with a friendly smile and jimin takes that as a sign to come over and join you two

“oh, god. he’s coming over.” jungkook keeps the smile on his face as he looks back down at you, “please tell me he’s not about to ask me about another party. i’m starting to worry that the number of times i’ve asked to come to a party is starting to make me look desperate for socialization- hey, jimin!”

you turn around so you can face jimin and jungkook reaches down to link his fingers with yours  

“hey, bro!!!!” jimin greets a little too enthusiastically as he holds up his fist for a bump, jungkook’s eyes flicking down to it before he reluctantly raises his own arm to bump his fist against jimin’s, “so, like, i’m sure y/n’s already debriefed you on kim taehyung’s party-”

“ah, yeah. taehyung’s party- you sure you wanna go to that one?” jungkook frowns as he glances back down at you, “because taehyung’s from one of the sleazier frats-”

“i heard they pop open bottles of champagne and spray them, like, all over everyone-” jimin gushes, jungkook raising a brow before chuckling lightly

“and you… want that?”

“it’ll look great on my instagram highlights.”

“that… yeah, that’s a bonus for sure.” jungkook gives your hand a squeeze and you bite back a giggle, “who cares about wasting multiple bottles of expensive champagne when they make for a great instagram highlight?”

“see? you get it!” jimin chirps before looking over at you, “he gets it, y/n.”

“mm, he certainly does.”

(jungkook likes jimin, it’s just that he thinks he’s a little too eager about his place on the social ladder sometimes…)

“oh, and don’t worry-” jimin beams, “y/n and i won’t abandon you at the party or anything because i hear their house is huge-”

“yeah, because i’m the third wheel in this trio.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

[somedaylazysomeday]

Misbehaving (Part Two)

Commander Cody x fem!reader. After your encounter by the 79's refreshers, you and Cody rejoin the rest of the 212th. But Cody isn't done yet...

Feeling lost? Read Part One here.

Rating: NC-17, explicit, lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,800

Warnings: teasing, public touching, spanking, semi-public fingering, references to masturbation.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

As expected, you walked up to the table to laughter, waggling eyebrows, and smattered applause. The last, obviously, was aimed in Cody’s direction, but one of the troopers cut off in overplayed concern when you glanced at him.

“Sorry, is the sound bringing up flashbacks?”

The other troopers dissolved into howls of laughter - ones that only extended when your butt hit the edge of the booth seat. You were slightly startled by the vicious sting in your rear as you put pressure on the abused skin and, though you didn’t know what kind of face you made, you certainly made one.

“You must have gotten her pretty good, Commander!” one of them cheered. Cody didn’t answer, just crossed his arms over his chest and silently eyed the group with the ghost of a smirk.

“Is your face okay?” one asked. “You look like your… cheeks are a little sore!”

More laughter, joined by troopers actually pounding the table with their fists. War must truly be hell if they found something this simple so profoundly funny.

“Shut up,” you told them all when you had reached the end of your patience. “How do you even know what happened?”

“Heft went to the ‘freshers after you did,” one of the men explained, pointing out one of your least favorite troopers. Heft was giving you a knowing grin. “He heard the commander… uh… giving you twenty of the GAR’s best.”

“Yeah, and it didn’t sound like you minded too much,” another man added.

Cody tilted his head in a nonverbal warning to them all. “That’s enough.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Thank you, sir!” Heft said in a high-pitched voice that you guessed was supposed to sound like you. Your face burned.

One of the others, a trooper named Ace, shook his head with a grimace. “I dunno, Heft. I’ve seen the commander punch a tinnie. Friendly fire or not, that’s gotta sting.”

“Please,” Heft scoffed. “Any of us could catch a slap on the shebs with much less whining than a civvie. No matter who the hit came from.”

“Want to make that a bet?” one of the troopers asked, leading to an interested murmur among the men.

“What are the terms?” another asked.

“If Heft can take ‘twenty of the GAR’s finest’ with less whining than me, I’ll buy his drinks for the rest of the night,” you offered, meeting Heft’s eyes with a challenging lift of your chin.

“And if he can’t, he has to admit that the civvie is tougher than him,” Ace finished.

“I’m not spanking Heft,” Cody refused.

Just as you were about to try to convince him, another trooper said, “What if I did it?”

You recognized the trooper who had spoken, one by the name of East. East was one of Cody’s regular partners in the gym, and Cody had confided to you that the man was probably the stronger of the two.

Cody considered it for a moment. “That would probably be a fair comparison. East will stand in for me.”

“And you’ll agree to buy my drinks for the rest of the night?” Heft asked again, making eye contact with you.

“As late as you want to stay,” you agreed.

“Deal,” Heft accepted. He slid out of the booth. “Get over here, East. Smack my shebs a few times and maybe I’ll be generous enough to share a drink or two with you.”

Some of the troopers glanced at you, apparently waiting for you to protest the way your bet was being farmed out to include other people. But something in East’s face made you stay quiet. He didn’t dislike Heft, not that you could tell, but East was Cody’s sparring partner, maybe even a friend of sorts. He wasn’t going to go easy on the other trooper. You let Heft boast, settling back in your seat.

Heft turned to face the table, leaning against it slightly as he popped one foot up in the air behind himself. “I’m ready, sir!”

East stood behind Heft and lined up his shot. It was a solid hit, met by wolf whistles from the troopers, but Heft just pretended to frown and said, “Ouchie! That’s one, thanks.”

East got ready for another hit, but Cody’s low voice stopped him. “What most people don’t know is that a spanking is more than just slapping someone on the shebs a few times. It’s a mind game. You have to do the right prep work to make it pay off.”

Cody paused, but no one spoke in the time it took for him to drain his glass. When he had set it back on the table, Cody shifted to see Heft’s position better. He was at the end of the booth, looking up at his men, but Cody had the calm authority of a lifelong instructor speaking about his field of expertise.

“First, make him bend. When the body is upright, the glutes contract to hold your posture. You don’t want that - makes less of an impact. Make him lean over the table, and keep leaning until you see the difference.”

East pushed Heft forward, and the trooper barely caught himself before he stumbled. East’s hand on his back forced Heft lower and lower to the table until he was nearly flat against the surface.

“There,” Cody said, halting the progress. “See this curve?”

Heft tensed up as Cody touched him to show his point - or, at least, you assumed he did. From your vantage point, you were looking at Heft’s face. You could see down the length of his spine to the curve of his hips, but you couldn’t see his ass.

You were the only one, though. As soon as Cody had started to offer instructions, the rest of the 212th troopers had slid out of the booth and stood crowded around Heft, East, and Cody. They were watching the process and listening to the commander’s explanation as if it were a lifesaving strategy for an upcoming battle.

“This curve is what you want to see,” Cody continued. “It means that the angle makes it harder for them to tense up. They’ll have to take the hit and feel it fully. Try again, East.”

East pulled back and cracked his hand against Heft’s ass. Heft’s eyes widened at the hit.

“Good job,” Cody congratulated. “Just a few more things. Make sure his legs are apart. That’ll also cut down on how much he can tense up.”

“How far apart?” East asked, studying Heft critically after he had kicked his feet away from each other.

“If he was naked, you would be able to catch a glimpse of his asshole.”

You expected the troopers to devolve into chuckles at their stoic commander using such a descriptive word, but they just watched as East kicked Heft’s feet wider and wider.

“Like that?” East asked after he had gotten Heft’s feet in the right places.

“Perfect.”

East hit Heft twice in rapid succession and Heft swore.

“Good, vary where and how fast your hits are landing,” Cody advised. “If he can’t anticipate you, he can’t brace. Make him keep guessing when the next one is going to happen. And make sure he’s counting out loud.”

“I’m not gonna kriffin’ count,” Heft spat out.

“Then the bet is over and you lost,” Cody told him, voice calm. “It’s an important part of the process.”

“Why?” Ace asked curiously.

You answered before Cody had a chance to. “It helps you gauge their mental state. If they take too long to answer or their voice wavers, you know to either slow things down or speed them up depending on how you want the session to go.”

Cody glanced over at you in surprise and you smiled up at him. He pulled you a bit closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

East nudged Heft’s hip with a knuckle. “Count, Heft. Or forfeit, either way.”

Heft clenched his jaw. “Three and four.”

Cody’s voice lashed out, low and commanding. “Three and four what, Heft?”

“Three and four, thanks,” Heft grumbled, closing his eyes to avoid your amused stare.

“Good,” East encouraged him, spanking him again.

“Five, thanks.”

“If you don’t mind me offering one more suggestion?” Cody said mildly.

East shrugged. “Please, Commander.”

Cody slid further to the end of the booth to look at Heft’s ass again. “See this curve at the bottom of Heft’s sheb? That’s where the skin, muscle, and fat is dangling now that we’ve taken away his ability to clench up. That is where you aim.”

The gathered troopers pushed closer to look at the spot Cody had pointed out while the commander slid back over to you. His hand rested low on your thigh, but you immediately pushed it up and under your skirt.

“Why do you aim there, though?” one of the men asked.

Cody pretended to consider that for a second, but only to give himself time to work one of his fingers into your entrance while you struggled to display a neutral face. “If you hit it properly, you can make that curve and the whole cheek bounce. That’s where you’ll find it feels the best.”

“For them or for you?” someone else asked.

“Both, but mostly for them,” Cody explained. “Otherwise, you’re just hitting their shebs a few times and calling it a day. Who is going to volunteer for that? No, hit that spot and it turns into something more. Don’t misunderstand - it will still hurt. It’s supposed to hurt. But, after a while, that pain becomes pleasure. By the time you finish a spanking, they should be aching for you. Otherwise, you did it wrong.”

There was a thoughtful pause before East fired off an experimental hit in the place Cody had mentioned. Heft’s breath caught and his hips pushed forward against the table. In a strangled voice, he said, “Six, thanks.”

The troopers laughed uproariously at Heft’s tone, but Cody just seemed calmly accepting. “That tone is exactly what you want to hear when you hit at that angle. It means you’re doing it right and he’s reacting the way you want someone to react. If you don’t hear that effect, you need to reevaluate something, because you’re cheating your partner.”

Everyone calmed down a bit at that. You even saw a few troopers nod thoughtfully, though Heft still wasn’t pushing to make eye contact with anyone. You could sympathize: the burning rush of arousal from someone slapping your ass was humiliating - humiliating in a delicious way, of course, but that didn’t make it any less private when you wanted to rut against the surface you were stretched over.

You leaned in to speak in Cody’s ear as East continued practicing his new skill. “And here I thought you did the bouncing thing on accident.”

“And here I thought you didn’t understand why I make you count for me,” Cody countered.

You smiled at each other - at least, you did until Cody slid his finger further up to circle around your clit. Then you were gaping openly, thankful that Heft’s eyes were closed with a wrinkle of concentration on his brow while everyone else was studying East’s efforts.

“Eleven, thanks,” Heft grunted. “I- Hang on.”

Cody turned as if he was ready to step in if East hadn’t heard, but East was already pulling his hand away. “What is it, Heft?”

Heft didn’t straighten from the table, but his eyes opened to meet yours before sliding away. “I- I don’t know if I can do the rest. It’s- a lot.”

You understood that deeply. “It can be sometimes,” you told him.

“Do you need to stop?” Cody asked, voice low and kind. You had heard him ask you the same thing in the same tone, and your sense of commiseration with Heft only grew.

“No, I just- I need-” he trailed off, looking confused.

“It’s okay, vod,” East told him. “We can stop if you want.”

“Of course, he’ll have to admit that Cody’s girl is tougher than him,” Ace reminded.

Heft’s jaw firmed. “No, keep going, I can take it.”

Smack!

Heft swore loudly, dancing his hips the same way you had. “I… I can’t.”

“Is it the force or the timing?” Cody asked.

“The… timing, I think,” Heft admitted.

“As I see it, you have two choices,” Cody told him. “You can either give up now and lose the bet, or you can take the last eight as fast as East chooses to give them to you. You still won’t win, but neither will she.”

“The second option, then,” Heft agreed quickly.

“Men,” Cody announced, glancing at the gathered members of the 212th. “We need some volunteers to make sure Heft’s chest stays on the table so East can concentrate on the hits.”

Immediately, two men stepped up on either side of Heft’s muscular body and pressed hands to his shoulder blades and spine. It was hard to tell pressure just by looking, but you were willing to bet that Heft wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you ready?” East asked.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Heft called. “I’m not counting, though!”

“Deal,” East agreed, grinning at you as he caught your eye. He pretended to blow on his palm before he pulled it back.

…Smack! Smack! Smack! Sm-SMACK! Smack! Smack!

And then East stopped. Heft frowned as his eyes shot open. Through his panting breaths, he said, “That’s only- That’s nineteen. Are we stopping at nineteen?”

“Glad you were counting after all, Heft,” East said with a grin. “But no, we’re not stopping. I just wanted to wind up so we could get a big finish out of this.”

Heft’s grin was sharp. “Bring it on, vod.”

When the slap landed against Heft’s ass, it was so loud that you could hear it over the music and Heft’s loud grunt. You winced in sympathy - or jealousy. It was hard to tell which, but the way your cunt convulsed was a pretty good hint of which.

Cody glanced at you in surprise, heat flaring in his dark eyes when you involuntarily squeezed around his finger again.

When you pulled your attention away from your handsome commander, you found that the troopers were helping Heft straighten up.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he told them, pausing to shake hands with East before he muttered, “I need a minute.”

“Do you think he’s going to go rub one out?” one of the troopers asked crudely.

“Yeah, pretend he’s the only one,” you tossed out scornfully. You had seen the way certain onlookers had grown restless, or looked for something to hold so they could hide their hips.

Wisely, no one said anything else as they settled back at the booth. Or most of them did, anyway. More than a few troopers had left the group, clearly looking for someone to practice their newfound skills on.

When Heft came back a little later, he was carrying a drink and two bundles. He handed one bundle to you and you realized it was a flat bag of ice covered in a bar towel. Heft set his on the booth’s seat before sitting on it. After a quick glance at Cody and a confirmation nod from him, you did the same.

“I guess that makes us even,” he said from across the table.

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug.

Cody laughed beside you. “Mesh’la, why don’t you tell Heft exactly how many times I’ve let you wear anything while I spanked you?”

You grimaced at that. “Yeah, never once. It’s always a bare ass spanking.”

Cody nodded, looking pleased with himself while Heft looked like his eyes were going to bug out from his head.

“You are a tough little thing,” Heft told you, saluting you with his fresh drink - one he had bought for himself, per the terms of your agreement. “Remind me to never doubt you again.”

“Hey, Heft, my drink’s gone warm,” Ace teased, pretending to root around under Heft’s seat. “Let me borrow some ice, huh?”

“Shut up man,” Heft laughed, pushing his brother away. “My shebs are on fire, leave me alone.”

You were sympathetic for Heft’s pain - that last slap had been especially hard - but the chill was starting to creep up from your ass to things that were making you warmer rather than cooler. You fluttered around Cody’s finger again - still buried deep inside of you - and sent him a pleading look when he eyed you.

Cody pulled his finger free of you, making you jump as he exited the booth. “Gentlemen, it’s been fun, but we have places to be. Enjoy.”

And he led you from the club, licking his finger in the most delicious way as you rushed after him.

---

A/N - However you describe Cody, 'competent' has to be pretty far up on the list.

Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist.

[majestyeverlasting]

Can you write prompt(s) 40 & 48 with Dad!Bucky x reader pls?

♡ Of course! Thanks for sending this request in! For the kids, I went ahead and used Jamie and Eden, who are in my Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader fics. There's cute and funny family ~shenanigans~ in this piece (and Eden ends up duping Bucky). I hope you like it!

♡ Prompt 40: "There it is. There's that smile."

♡ Prompt 48: "Those are my pajama pants. They're literally slipping down your waist."

♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)

No Such Thing as Winning By Default Tonight

The way Jamie and Eden greeted Bucky at the door always gave him something to look forward to, to cherish. They were bouncing on the balls of their feet as if it had been ages since they last saw him. In reality, it had only been a span of hours since he’d left that morning. And with sparkling eyes, they waited for him to take off his backpack and shrug off the leather jacket. You’d spent the day out with them, and they were ready to tell their father about everything. From checking out new books at the library, going to the park, and even getting snow cones.

As soon as Bucky finished putting his things in the closet, he scooped Eden up and kissed her cheek. And he pulled Jamie into a hug after giving him a fist bump—the gesture was something the boy insisted they started doing everyday because it was ‘cool.’ It was important not to forget the explosion fingers right after, because that’s what made fist bumps even cooler.

The kids talked a mile a minute as they told Bucky about their day—as if their lives depended on it. Hundreds of people had told him hundreds of things over the years and, yet, listening to their words—and yours—added a value to his life that he hadn't, or couldn’t find anywhere else in the world. A smile stretched across your face when he entered the living room with Jamie and Eden on either side of him. You were sitting on the couch with the laundry basket on the floor in front of you. Folding clothes that, admittedly, should’ve already been taken care of.

Bucky shot you a wink when your eyes met his, and you felt the smallest flutter in your stomach. After spending the day with children, you were glad to have some adult company again. It helped that he was particularly attractive in his unshaven state. “Hey, stranger,” you teased, affectionately. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad,” he said, draping his arms over the kids’ shoulders. “From what these two were telling me, it sounds like you guys went around the world while I was gone.”

That earned a laugh from you. “It feels like we did. I’m not moving for the next week.”

Jamie snorted. “But don’t you have to move? You can’t just stay still,” he said. “You’re moving right now to fold the clothes.”

You gave him a flat look, narrowing your eyes. Everyone else laughed. “Well, in that case, mister, how about you three come do it for me so I don’t have to move?” Your tone was playful.

“Uhhh... Dad can do it. I forgot how to fold,” he lied.

“‘Dad can do it?’” Bucky repeated, looking down at him in feigned disagreement. If you truly needed a break, or wanted any sort of additional help, he’d step in a heartbeat—he always did.

“Wait, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Eden spoke up, leaving her father’s side to plop beside you. “Do you want me to help, Mommy?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked out one of her shirts from the basket.

It was then that Jamie decided he was going to assist too. Instead of joining the two of you on the couch, however, he sat crossed-legged on the floor, and dug to the bottom of the basket in search of his favorite race car graphic tee. The way their brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. And because they were no longer glued to Bucky, he was able to lean down and press a kiss to your temple, hands bracing on the plush arm of the couch. Before he could pull too far away, you cupped his chin and directed his lips to yours in a brief kiss, sighing through your nose. You felt him smile upon hearing the kids’ quiet giggles.

Eden’s voice soon arose. “Hey, Mommy, look. Is this good enough?” Bucky pulled away and straightened back to his full height, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

On Eden’s lap was a white shirt printed with pink flowers that she had folded. “It looks great, E. Put it on the stack of your other stuff.” You pointed to the clothes of hers that you had already folded.

What you ended up finding later that evening was that one of the kids had accidentally placed Bucky’s navy blue pajama pants in your sleepwear drawer. Considering he was off in the playroom with them, you decided to put them on to go get a reaction out of him. You paired them with a gray V-neck.

When you walked in on him and the kids, they were winning in what appeared to be a play fight. They hovered over him as his back was against the floor. A helpless smile budded on your face as you stood watching in the doorway. He tried to prop himself up upon noticing you, but Jamie growled and pushed chest back down.

“Do you surrender?” He asked his father.

A laugh bubbled up Bucky’s throat. “Yes, I surrender.”

“I don’t believe him,” Eden told Jamie.

“I do! I promise,” Bucky said. “I just wanna talk to your mom.”

They let him sit up, and you caught the way his gaze traveled up your body. “Hey… those are my pajama pants,” he said, pushing himself from the floor to go stand in front of you. “They’re literally slipping down your waist.” To prove his point, he attempted to pull them up to a more proper resting place on your hips. But they slouched back down a bit when he let go.

“No they’re not," you challenged with a smile. "They’re mine."

“Oh, is that right?” He let his hands come to rest on your hips, and in turn you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. “They look good on you,” he said, voice low. And before you could register his intentions, he reached around you to squeeze your backside.

Bucky chuckled at your small squeak and dipped down for a kiss. He was gentle, and warm, and smelled woodsy. When he started to pull away, you thought it was way too soon. But, a second later, you realized it was because Jamie had started tugging on the back of his shirt.

You stifled a laugh at the way he rolled his eyes before turning around. “May I help you?” He asked the boy.

“Can we do one more round?” Jamie asked. “But this time you have to go harder on us.”

Eden came to stand beside her brother’s side. “Yeah! And Mommy can be on a team with me and Jamie,” she said.

Bucky looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You up for that?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Maybe I should just watch. These pants probably make me wardrobe malfunction prone.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll be fine.”

That assurance is what landed you in a four-person play fight. Per Jamie’s request, Bucky does exert a little more effort. But he was still overly mindful that nobody got hurt in any other way. For the first few moments, you drew back and let Jamie and Eden make most of the advances on their father. They practically cackled every time he pinned them.

But he eventually locked eyes with you, and you knew he wasn't going to let you remain in the background of the action anymore. All you could do was squeal when he made a very direct advancement. Because you were already kneeling, it didn’t take much for him to force you the rest of the way to the floor. It happened so swiftly that all you could do was let out a surprised huff of laughter. Somehow he managed to capture both of your wrist.

“He’s got Mommy!” You heard Eden say. Then she came to your rescue by pushing his shoulder to divert his attention.

In the sliver of time before Bucky walked on his knees to get the girl, Jamie did a discrete signal to her that she nodded to. All it was was a quick swipe of his pointer finger down his cheek. And between you and Bucky, only you caught their quick exchange. It took a second for it to click that he had told her to fake cry. Or pretend to be hurt, at least.

As soon as Bucky gathered Eden into his arms, and lowered her to the floor in the most gentle 'slam' ever, she enacted their scheme. From her lying position, she winced and released a soft whine. There was no possible way that what he did could've caused any pain, but Bucky didn't even rationalize that. The only thing that rang in his mind was that he'd just hurt his little girl.

“Shoot! I’m sorry, babydoll.” He repositioned to sit in a narrow straddle, and coaxed her up to sit on his thigh. The tenderness of his voice made you want to tell him that she was fine. "What hurts, hmm?" She just continued pouting. Jamie put a hand over his mouth to hide either a smile or shock that it actually worked.

Bucky sighed as his eyes flickered over to you. All you could do was offer an expression that was likely a mix between neutral and guilty. Then he redirected his attention back to Eden and started pressing consoling kisses to her hair. When he noticed her beginning to smile, relief flooded through him. “There it is. There’s that smile,” he said. "I really am sorry, sunshine. Didn't mean to hurt you."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "Daddy..." she said, voice tentative. "I was just kidding..."

Jamie was quick to pitch in. "I only told her to so we could win by default or something. At least she's actually okay, right?" The hopeful edge to his tone made you bite back a smile. "Mom was in on it too." Snitch.

Bucky's mouth fell slightly agape, but he let out a small laugh a second later, shaking his head. "Wow," he breathed. "'Win by default,' huh? Give me a heart attack to 'win by default.'" In all fairness, it had been a somewhat mean trick. But nothing he couldn't recover from.

"I didn't even know if you were gonna believe me!" Eden claimed. She squealed when he suddenly laid onto his back, taking her with him. The sound of their mixed laughter filled the room, and the energetic buzz returned to the atmosphere.

Then Bucky made a proposal to your team. "You guys are gonna have to come save little miss from my arms if you wanna win for real," he said. "No such thing as winning by default tonight."

-

Previously fulfilled request: Cold Little Paws.

[storiesforallfandoms]

comparisons ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2195

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Colson Baker one where you’re dating after him and Megan where you get a bunch of hate and they both defend you against the hate please”

description: when her boyfriend’s ex is one of the most beautiful actresses of this generation, she finds herself being constantly compared to her and receiving hateful messages

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, hate messages, insecurities

masterlist (one, two)

There was some sort of assumption that when you start dating someone, you immediately hate their ex. That could not be further from the truth for me and Colson. In fact, Colson’s ex-girlfriend introduced us shortly after their break up, and had constantly pushed for the two of us to get together.

Megan was basically the backbone in our friendship. She pushed me to pursue my dreams in acting (as well as helped you with that since she was so much more famous than you were when you started), then she pushed me to start auditioning for bigger roles. The moment she introduced me to Colson, I knew exactly what was coming next.

“That’s weird, Meg,” I had told her. “Isn’t there, like, a girl code about dating your best friend’s ex?”

“I’m literally shoving you onto him,” she had responded. “I think you’re fine with the girl code.”

A few months after meeting, I finally caved and asked Colson out on a date. Six months later, I was still thanking Megan for giving me that push.

Shortly after making our relationship public, however, the happiness slowly came to a stop. For me, anyways. Colson, bless his heart, was blissfully ignorant to the comments his fanbase started to send me.

“yikes, he really downgraded huh?”

“how do you go from megan fox to...that?”

“guess mgk couldn’t keep up his streak of hot girlfriends”

Hate comes with fame, I knew that. I had my fair share of hate comments ever since the start. It was easy to ignore them when they were just a handful of hate comments here and there, but this was different. This was a bombardment of hate that was so heavy I could barley go online.

Colson was oblivious for a while, until he found out I had deleted all my social media accounts.

“Did you delete your Instagram babe?” he asked the minute he got home the day I had done it.

“Yeah,” I responded, nonchalantly. “I deleted all my social media.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I just thought it’d be better for me mentally. They say being so attached to social media is bad for you or whatever.”

“But you weren’t even addicted to social media. You just liked sharing your memories - our memories.”

I shrugged again and turned back to my cooking. I wasn’t about to tell him his fans drove me off the internet. He loved his fans, I couldn’t fuck that up for him, even if what they were saying hurt me so much.

My back was to him as I cooked, so he couldn’t see my reaction when he asked, “Is it because people were comparing you to Megan?”

I froze completely. I could feel his eyes staring into the back of my head, but I just couldn’t convince myself to turn around to face him. I knew that if I did, I’d crack. I had gone too long pretending everything was okay, keeping this secret from Colson, to finally let it slip now. I just had to throw him off of his thought process.

“Where did you get that idea?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

He was next to me suddenly, holding his phone up so I could see it. On the screen was a picture of me at a red carpet just below a headline that read “(Y/F/N) deletes social media accounts amid hateful comments from boyfriend Machine Gun Kelly’s fans”.

I sighed in frustration. Of course the tabloid vultures had already written articles about it. I had only done it a few hours earlier, but they always had to be the first ones to write another story about me.

“I didn’t even know I was getting hate,” I said, trying to keep up the lie even though it was pretty obvious I had been found out. “I just decided to delete my accounts, it must be a coincidence.”

“Really? Because this article says you were receiving so much hate that you couldn’t even go into the comments on your pictures or replies on your tweets without seeing a mass amount of hate from my fans.”

I turned off the stove and turned around suddenly, abandoning my cooking completely as I quickly walked out of the kitchen and towards mine and Colson’s room. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and the last thing I wanted was for Colson to see me cry.

I wasn’t shocked to hear his footsteps coming after me. I forgot how much longer his legs were than mine, so it didn’t take long for him to catch up with me and stop me before I could get too far away. He took hold of my arm and turned me around to look at him. The moment my eyes landed on his face, it felt like someone had finally broke the dam holding back my tears.

Colson pulled me in for a hug and held me tightly as I sobbed into his chest. Every ounce of overwhelming feelings I had been bottling up for months was finally starting to come out, and I realized it was long overdue when I eventually began to grow tired from my crying.

I felt Colson pick me up and bring me to his bed. My eyes were starting to grow heavy despite how much I was fighting against them to stay awake. The minute my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep, but it was obvious I had needed that rest, because when I woke up again I felt more well rested than I had in a long time.

I opened my eyes to find myself facing the window, which helped me to pinpoint that it was now nighttime as the sky was pitch black. I rolled over, expecting to find Colson asleep next to me only to find that I was alone in his bed. I was confused at first, forgetting the events that happened mere hours earlier.

I could hear a distant voice talking and was able to identify it as Colson’s. I got up from his bed and made my way towards the stairs, hearing it get louder as I stood at the top.

“I wish she would’ve told me,” he was saying. “I don’t know why she would’ve kept this a secret from me.”

“She didn’t want you upset with your fans,” came another voice. This one was distorted like it was coming from a phone. When she spoke again, I realized it was Megan’s voice. “And she’s stubborn. She was probably determined to deal with this by herself.”

“I just hate that she felt that way,” Colson sighed. “I don’t want her believing anything any of those people said to her, but I saw screenshots and fuck...they really did just bombard her with hate.”

“I know, but none of us could’ve predicted this. Your fans were so cool with us dating, I thought they’d love (Y/N) since we’re so similar.”

I sat down on the top of the stairs and peeked down enough that I could see Colson without him seeing me. He was laid out on the couch in just his sweat pants. In his hand he was holding his phone up, the other was slung over the back of his couch. I could see the guilt on his face, which broke my heart to see. I didn’t want Colson feeling guilty for something that was out of his control.

“You think what I posted will do anything?” he asked Megan.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. When people want to hate, they just want to hate.”

Hearing that Colson had posted something made me curious. I felt around my pants for my phone, but realized I had probably left it in the room or downstairs somewhere. I was in too deep now to give myself away, but I really wanted to know what he had posted about the situation.

“Thanks for talking to me about this, Megan,” he said.

“Of course, Colson. Anytime.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Colson tossed his phone onto the coffee table and put his arm under his head. “Are you gonna come down babe?”

I wanted to ask how he knew I was there, but instead I stood from my spot and made my way down the stairs. When I entered the living room, Colson just looked up at me for a moment, almost expectantly. I smiled down at him and laid on top of him with my head on his chest. The arm that was over the back of the couch wrapped around me and he gently kissed the top of my head.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Just the last bit,” I admitted. “Something about a post you made.”

Colson hummed, his chest vibrating underneath my ear as he did. “I wanted to address the issue, and I knew you wouldn’t let me do it if you were awake.”

“I still don’t like that you did it now,” I said, half joking. “Can I see the post?”

He moved his head to look down at me. “How do I know you’re not going to delete the post?”

“You don’t,” I responded. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

He smiled and reached over to grab his phone from the coffee table. He opened it and pulled up a post he had made on Instagram: it was your usual white background with text post you saw celebrities make from time to time.

It read:

“I love my fans so much. You guys are my EST family, and I’m so proud of this family that we have built over the last few years. However, it came to my attention today that some of you have been less than nice to my girlfriend to a point where she felt the need to delete her social media accounts. I will admit, I was oblivious to this at first as I am not one to go onto other people’s social media to read comments and replies, and (Y/N) kept this to herself instead of telling me about it. But now that I do know, I have to say I am beyond pissed. (Y/N) is the most beautiful girl I have ever met, inside and out. She is not Megan, and honestly - with all respect to Megan - I’m glad that she’s not. I love Megan as a friend, but truly that’s all she is to me. (Y/N) is my soulmate, the love of my life. These comparisons and jabs at her because she isn’t my ex are absolutely disgusting, especially coming from people who claim they love me as much as you guys do. Please learn how to treat the people in my life with love and respect, or else take my face out of your profile pictures and my name out of your usernames/bios as you are not a true fan of mine. From the bottom of my heart, fuck you to anyone that made my girlfriend feel like shit.”

I scrolled down to see the comments and saw that the top one was from Megan, and was already liked by Colson.

“(Y/N) is not my competition, nor is she my enemy. She is my friend and she has been since before Colson and I were ever together. The fact that people feel the need to pit two women against one another just because they both dated the same person is absolutely appalling to me. I’d like to emphasis Colson’s statement - fuck you to whoever hurt my friend.”

I handed Colson his phone back, not wanting to read any more. I could feel a lump in my throat again, but this one was from happiness. I felt so lucky to have two amazing people in my corner during a time that was otherwise very trying for me.

“I’m sorry I never told you,” I said as I rested against his chest again.

“You shouldn’t be sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You don’t have any reason to be sorry either. You can’t control your fans.”

“Then neither of us will be sorry.”

I chuckled at this. For a moment we were both silent, the only sound being Colson’s heart beating under my ear. It was a soothing sound, and combined with his fingers tracing over my back, I was almost lulled back to sleep.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my hair.

I lifted my head to look at him. “What?”

“I said I love you.”

I was speechless. It was the first time he had seriously said those words and he had managed to shock me into silence with them.

He looked at me, his face slowly becoming concerned with my silence.

“I love you, too,” I finally managed.

A smile broke out across Colson’s face as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly to him. For the rest of the night, he would whisper those three words to me randomly, and I would whisper back my response every time.

[bronanlynch]

aa1 lawyers ranked by whose file clerk I would rather be

background: I was a file clerk at a law firm for a while and I’ve looked at so many job listings. this doesn’t necessarily reflect how I feel abt the characters, just how I think they’d be as a boss and what the state of their filing is

mia: keeps her office very organized, and I appreciate a woman who knows the value of alphabetical order, even if it does stress me out that she files things by topic instead of by name. loses a point for only knowing how to use her computer for emails because you know that means she’d fuck up every time she had to use the copier. I would still happily send all her faxes because at least she’s nice abt it and probably would give me health insurance. 9/10, sure, I’d work for her

phoenix: probably doesn’t need one because he takes so few cases and he couldn’t afford to pay me anyway. 1/10, he’s not even hiring, this is a pity point

edgeworth: on one hand, very neat and keeps written records of Everything, so there would be a lot to file but it would never be too frustrating, which is ideal tbh. he definitely knows the exact location of every file in his office and doesn’t lose them to the void. on the other hand, he would be mean to me one (1) time and I would decide that he was my nemesis and that I had to prove that I’m better than him. it would be a very petty one-sided rivalry but I would have so much fun drafting passive-aggressive emails. also, I would have no respect for him on a moral level bc of the whole ‘prosecutor who doesn’t care if people are innocent’ thing but like. the place where I used to work defended corporations I’m used to having no respect for the lawyers I work for. 5/10, depends on how long I’ve been jobsearching

von karma: absolutely the fuck not. all of edgeworth’s worst habits (mean & rich & corrupt) combined with his insistence on disregarding rules when it suits him means he would be a fucking nightmare to work for. he would give me something to send to the court at the last second that would be just blatantly put together wrong because he thinks he knows better than the judge and I would have to waste time doing it correctly and then it would get submitted late and he’d yell at me. would also pitch a fit at some poor unsuspecting fedex customer service agent bc the package he sent on friday with next business day delivery didn’t get delivered until the next business day instead of over the weekend. 0/10, I bet his job listing stresses how hard you’ll have to work and doesn’t mention pay or benefits

grossberg: at least he has a receptionist I can gossip with. would hand me a $20 bill and ask if that would be enough to buy more creamer for his coffee (a true story and not just an arrested development bit unfortunately). reminds me of my old job except without the wildly terrible stuff. 7/10, tolerable

payne: exists I guess. probably has one or two super irritating habits but the rest of the time he’s fine so you put up with it. loses points for being a prosecutor though sorry for bringing my real world politics into this. 5/10, less stressful than working for edgeworth but more boring so it balances out

lana: definitely has a very strict system for her files and god help you if you fuck it up but at least she’s consistent and clear abt what she wants and I appreciate that in a boss. same moral disagreements as for edgeworth. 6/10, depends on the benefit package tbh

gregory edgeworth: not enough data but probably fine. based on how edgeworth talks abt him he probably cares abt making sure people have a fair trial and all that, which makes him a better option than almost everyone on this list. 8/10, yeah why not

hammond: again not enough data but I think he’d be similar to grossberg but probably does too many medical records requests and those can be such a pain to scan. still gets points for not working for the prosecutor’s office. 7/10, sure I guess

[ziltoidcoffee]

I think Terry would be a sappy drunk. I’m picturing him having a few too many at a party and getting extra mushy with Daniel, being super clingy and affectionate. Daniel is embarrassed but he is melting a bit at Terry being so sweet.

(Okay, anon. I went full fluff. You have been warned! :P I wanted to give you some CK-era Terry and Daniel because we know this giant snake man will only become softer as he ages. Hope you like!) Terry is very affectionate when he’s drunk.

Daniel is very aware of the effect alcohol has on his husband, and yet, he allowed the older man to get to this drunken state tonight. He’s even been the one quietly refilling his glass with wine, but to be fair, he’s very nervous tonight. This is the first official introduction of Terry to his extended family since they reunited, and although he trusts his husband to turn on the charm, he knows Terry is equally capable of crushing someone with only his words.

It's not like he really minds the way Terry gets warm and languid against his shoulder as Daniel sits next to him on the couch. The problem is they’re not alone in the living room. His children are sitting across from them laughing at something Terry said, and Lucille is standing behind the arguing with Louie and Vanessa. Worse yet is how Terry’s hand keeps sliding around on his thigh, and he’s still strong even when he’s drunk, resisting Daniel’s touch attempting to push him away.

Daniel can handle a drunken, pissed-off Johnny or practically anyone else. But this is unbearable, the constant slide of too friendly fingers and warm smiles. His kids are a good source of distraction. Terry is usually well-behaved with Sam or Anthony in the room, but then his husband’s fingers are delving in to brush against his crotch. He suddenly stands up from the couch, glaring at Terry who smirks back at him, and then his gaze sweeps around the room to see everyone staring.

“What’s wrong, Daniel?” asks his mother, raising a brow at him.

“Nothing, ma,” he answers her, then turns his head to direct a glare at his husband who starts reaching up toward his ass. Daniel grabs his wrist before Terry can make contact, pulling a drunken older man to his feet.

Terry wraps an arm around his shoulder to stop him from falling, and Daniel is surprised by how easily he can fool people into seeming less drunk than his husband knows he is.

But Samantha is looking at them with a suspicious frown. “Where are you going with Terry, dad?”

He forces a laugh and comes up with a fast lie. “I forgot there’s something we brought back from Okinawa that I wanna show you,” Daniel answers, and that’s almost the truth. They did buy a few things he never showed everyone.

“What’d you get us?” asks Anthony with a smile.

Daniel takes his husband by the hand and begins to pull him across the living room toward the kitchen. “It’s a surprise. I promise you’ll like it,” he claims, pitching his voice louder.

“What do you need Terry for then?” he hears Louie ask with a laugh.

“Because….” Daniel drawls, still not pausing his stride, but he can’t think of a reason.

He’s almost thankful when Terry interrupts, laughing as he says, “It’s somewhere up high.” Even though the words sting a little, Terry makes the rest of his family laugh, and they don’t ask anything else while Daniel brings him into the kitchen as far as he can from the living room.

“Daniel,” Terry says against his ear from where he’s pressing his front against Daniel’s back. His words are warm and inviting as everything else he’s done tonight. “Did you really bring us in here to give them those chocolates?”

The urge to punch Terry in the face is strong. Even when he’s intoxicated, his husband is still so intelligent and reading his every move. But instead, Daniel turns around and pushes against his shoulders, forcing Terry against the kitchen. “No, I came in here to tell you to get a grip,” he hisses, pointing at him with his finger. Terry smirks and ducks to bite, and Daniel just pulls his hand back in time. “Stop it! I’m serious, Terry. My family’s in there, and you’re acting like we’re at some—-like we’re in the bedroom!”

Terry smiles and wraps an arm around Daniel’s waist, tugging until their chests come together. “I’m sorry, Danny,” he whispers in a soothing tone. “I can’t help myself when you’re just so….”

“Finally, Terry Silver is at a loss for words,” Daniel mutters under his breath despite the heat spreading to his cheeks. He sighs and rests his palms against the older man’s chest. “Just keep your hands to yourself at least until they leave. Then we can do whatever you want, okay?” Not like he expects Terry to do anything but pass out even seconds after they exit the door.

The grin across Terry’s features spreads. “I’ll try,” he whispers. “But can’t I have something to tide me over?” He nods at the empty kitchen. “We are alone right now.”

Daniel rolls his eyes but gives in as he usually does to his husband. “Real quick cause Anthony is gonna get impatient,” he sighs then leans up, intending to give him a chaste peck. Though Terry’s hands end up in his hair, dragging him closer for an open-mouth kiss.

He takes like wine, sweet and rich with alcohol, but Daniel’s not offering the least resistance. His mouth is opening to let Terry’s tongue slide past his lips against the roof of his mouth. There’s warmth spreading across his tongue, and he can feel Terry’s erection rutting against his own growing in his pants. He lets out a low moan, failing to keep quiet, but Terry’s hand is gliding down his back to dig into his cheeks.

There’s only one place this is going, and it’s certainly not somewhere Daniel wants to go with his family in the other room. He pulls back from Terry to narrow his eyes at the smirking older man. “That’s enough,” Daniel tells him, but his voice is too breathy to be much of a warning.

Terry tips his head back so the wall can take his weight, and when he speaks, his tone lacks any teasing. “I swear,” he declares, and Daniel almost believes him.

With a sigh, he points up above his husband’s head at the cupboard above the refrigerator. “Can you get the damn chocolates? We need this to be at least believable,” Daniel grumbles.

“Of course,” Terry agrees and turns around, reaching up to retrieve a box wrapped in a yellow bow. Then he grabs Daniel by the hand, leading him back into the living room while only managing to stumble once. “Who wants chocolates?”

“Me!” comes a shout from Anthony, Louie, Vanessa, his mother, and surprisingly, Sam as well. Daniel smiles as his family swarms his annoying drunken husband.