#I’ve bundled it up for so long I’m gonna explode with the amount of love I have for this man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamypeaches · 4 years

Text

self-care (kinktober day 2) | pope heyward x reader

summary: pope’s commitment to school has left you feeling lonely. you decide to help pope destress and unwind with some self-care, only for him to turn the tables.

warnings: smut (it’s kinktober y’all), cursing

word count: 1.3k

a/n: it’s big pope heyward loving hours here, but when is it not. I’m gonna try and write a bunch of kinktober fics this weekend so I’m not constantly posting them when everyone has already gone to bed. hopefully i actually can accomplish that

Times were hard in the mind of Pope Heyward. It was his final semester of undergrad, and he needed to leave off on a good note. Amidst cramming for midterms, finishing up labs, and just the general stress of being alive, he also had med school applications to deal with. All you could do was watch as the man you loved became so filled with stress that you couldn’t even hug him without it leaking onto you.

It had taken quite a toll on your sex life as well. When he wasn’t in class or studying, he was so exhausted that he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, which didn’t happen often. He stayed up late most nights cramming, fueled by coffee and pure anxiety. You were left to your own devices, your hand becoming your new lover. Compared to Pope, it was like trying to fuck yourself with a noodle, incredibly unfulfilling.

Not only were you craving the sweet release that only Pope could give you, but you knew he could use it as well. He was wound so tight, it was time for him to explode. So you hatched a plan. You were going to make Pope cum so hard he would see God. But of course, Pope was always full of surprises.

He had taken his usual Saturday night position, slouched over his desk as he furiously typed and flipped through pages of his textbook. When you had moved in together, he’d set up his study space in the living room, ensuring that he didn’t disturb you during his late-night study sessions. But tonight, you wanted to be disturbed. He’d already been there for a couple hours, not paying you any mind, which was perfect. You’d spent those couple hours preparing. You were shaved and waxed, applying some of his favorite scented lotion across your smooth skin. You’d gone for a simple look, adding the tiniest amount of mascara and lipstick. The most important part was the lingerie. You’d bought this set a couple weeks ago online, and it finally arrived at your doorstep that morning, perfect timing.

You admired yourself in the floor-length mirror, not ashamed to say that you would totally fuck yourself. You just hoped Pope would feel the same way. Slinking out of your bedroom, you lean against the hallway wall that enters into the living room. Pope’s back is turned to you, his body silhouetted by the light of his laptop.

“Pope,” you call

“Yeah?” He replies. He doesn’t even start to turn towards you. You sigh, tapping your head against the wall in frustration.

“Can you look at this?”

“Look at what?”

“Just fucking look!”

You see his shoulders sag slightly at your tone, a sigh escaping his lips as he turns towards you. His at first questioning look turns to one of shock and awe as he takes in your appearance.

“Holy shit,” He breathes. You smirk, the reaction exactly what you wanted.

“Like what you see?” You say seductively. His mouth opens and closes as he grasps for words.

“Yes...” He starts, making you bite your lip as he undressed you with his eyes, “But I can’t, love, I’m sorry. I really need to finish this.”

You’re sensual stance sags as your shoulders slump, pouting at your boyfriend.

“But Pope!” You say, elongating the o as you march over to him. You push his chair back from the desk and swing your legs over his lap to straddle him. Arms wrapping around his neck, you give him your best, irresistible puppy dog eyes.

“It’s been literal weeks since we’ve done anything! I haven’t even given you a shitty, quickie hand job. I miss you, lovely. More than that, I fucking need you, and you need to destress. Can’t you just relax for one night?”

You angle your chest upwards, practically shoving your exposed cleavage into his face. His eyes are stuck to the view as his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Pleasure fills your gut as you watch his eyes darken with lust, his hands coming to grip your hips harshly.

“You’re right, love, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been paying enough attention to you. You’ve probably had to take care of yourself a lot, haven’t you?”

You let out a whimper at his lower tone, nodding in agreement with his words. He quickly adjusts you, lifting your hips and moving until you’re straddling his thigh. The basketball shorts he’s wearing were already ruined from the way your heat was pooling against him.

“Why don’t you show me how you take care of yourself?” He asks though it’s less of a question and more of a command. You simply nod, words escaping you as his grip on your hips tightens, forcing you to grind down more on his thigh. Unwrapping from around his neck, you grip his shoulders as you slowly start to rock against him. Your clit catches on a seam on your panties, a light moan leaving you as it does.

“That’s it, baby, I want you to feel good. I’ve been neglecting you for too long, I have to make up for lost time.”

He starts to pepper kisses across your jaw and down your neck, leaving love bites across your cleavage. The way he nips as the skin before soothing it with his tongue makes your mind go fuzzy. Pope really was everything for you. He could be so sweet and gentle, caring for you like no one else had, but also drive you wild with pleasure and fuck you until you couldn’t walk. He really is the ultimate package.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising now as he urges you to move faster, your moans starting to fill the air as you chase your release on his thigh.

“Fuck, that pussy is so wet for me. Tell me how it feels, baby? How does my thigh feel against your pussy?”

“F-fuck, Pope, it feels so good. I’ve missed your body so much.”

“Don’t worry, love, I’m going to make it up to you. I promise,” He whispers against your neck as he continues to place soft kisses. You tighten your hold on his shoulders, grasping for any amount of stability as you grind down on him, the coil in your gut tightening quickly. Burying your face in his neck, a string of curses and moans leave you as you rub yourself on him, the edge so close yet so far away.

“Please, Pope, help me. I want to cum so bad. Help me cum, baby!” You beg. You feel him smile against your temple.

“As you wish, love.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles against it that greatly contrasts your furious grinding. You shout out at the added sensation, moaning his name against his throat. You feel the vibrations of his chuckle, screaming as he presses harder against your sensitive bundle.

“Oh my FUCK, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s right, love, let it out. Cum all over my thigh.”

You do exactly that, biting against the juncture of his shoulder and neck as your orgasm washes over you. He helps you ride it out, moving your hips for you as your body seems to go limp with pleasure.

“So good for me, love, so good. But that’s only the beginning, I’ve got a month's worth of orgasms to make up for.”

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he stands, throwing you over his shoulder as he does. Landing a firm slap against your ass and earning a giggle, he makes his way to the bedroom where he throws you down onto your shared bed.

He gazes down at you, already fucked out, legs spread revealing your soaked panties. You shrink against his loving gaze, the passion in it almost overwhelming.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, not taking advantage of having the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You blush, pulling your lip between your teeth as you beckon him over. He abides and hovers over you, lips ghosting against yours.

“Don’t worry, love, we’ve got forever to take advantage of each other.”

taglist: @hoodpankow @toriswrites @httpstarkey @rae131415 @https-luna @solllaris @khiaraaa-in-spacee @rudypankow-whore @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dontjinx-it @rudyypankow @joshy-obx @rafej-cambanks @diverdcwn @anxietyandtacos @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @obx-slut @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @stfukie @rekrappeter @butgilinsky

#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward smut #pope heyward fic #pope heyward imagine #obx fic #my writing #kinktober 2020

159 notes · View notes

acrobaticcatfeline · 4 years

Text

Date Night

Word Count: 1793

TW: sympathetic Janus and Remus, crying, there's quite a bit of Romangst.

Pairings: minor intruality and sanflorez, logince because what else?

Notes: Sanders Sides’ anniversary is in two days! This is my first ever canonverse fic I’ve ever finished. I love Nico a normal amount. I just want everyone to get along and feel appreciated. This is also the first time I’ve successfully finished a fic in like more than a year so! Hope y'all enjoy!

Summary: Thomas has a date with Nico and everyone wants this to go perfectly.

“Thomas you look terrible you have to fix this!”

“Virgil, I know this is your job but also could you please not???”

Thomas was getting ready for a date with Nico and currently Virgil was floating around his head filling him with enough doubt that he was half ready to just cancel.

“YOU CANT CANCEL!!!”

Virgil's voice boomed enough that not only did Thomas drop his brush, but Patton and Roman popped in. They shared a look at each other, then to Virgil and Thomas, then back to each other. Patton went to Thomas, legs crossed as he floated behind him, hands on his shoulders massaging gently as Roman went to Virgil, the only one choosing to stand as he tried to calm the anxious side.

“Hey kiddo! I know you're nervous, but you got this! Now pick back up that brush and finish up your hair! I know this is gonna be great!”

“But Virgil said I look awful!”

“He's panicking. He wants this to go well as much as the rest of us do. He wasn't trying to discourage you kiddo, he's doing his best”

Thomas took in a deep breath as Roman guided Virgil through a few breathing exercises in the corner of the bathroom.

“One thing you can taste Vee”

“Fear. um, um, the toothpaste Thomas just used”

“Good job Virge. Breathe. Hyperventilating isn't helping anyone”

“Yeah. yeah you're right”

“You're doing great moody gloom. Maybe you should take a break. Tap out for a while”

“But Thomas needs!!!”

“Thomas is overwhelmed, and so are you. Take five emo, we got this”

“... fine. Ok. just, don't let him look bad ok?”

“Wouldn't dream of it”

Virgil sunk out and Roman took in a deep breath as he spun towards Thomas with a grin. He walked over and mussed up his hair a bit, to which Thomas grumbled slightly. Patton giggled as Roman fixed his hair in just the right way. Thomas let a smile slip onto his face as Roman finished it with a satisfied noise.

“Thanks Ro. You're a huge help”

“My pleasure! Now about this outfit…”

They were all in the mind palace again as Thomas went to meet up with Nico. Patton was fixed to the TV, watching through Thomas’ eyes as he drove, with a smile on his face. Virgil was sat nearby as well, but with his headphones on to help him stay calm. Logan was holed up in his room, hiding they assumed, as when they had first met Nico he had short circuited and as Patton recalled to Roman, ‘sat staring at the TV with heart eyes for a good few hours’. Regardless, Logan also had a lot to do with all of this happening, let alone the patreon that had exploded. Janus was sitting on the table with a mug of coffee also watching the TV. His interest was muted as both Roman and Virgil had made it loud and clear that he was unable to interfere in any way. Whether he was planning on listening was debatable. Roman and Remus were however in the kitchen giggling like children and baking.

“He is so cuteeee!!!”

“I agree! Absolutely bootylicious even!!!”

“God he's heavenly. I can't believe we scored a date with him!!! He still liked Thomas after he said he was the one that fell into the trash can!!!”

“I KNOW RIGHT!!! God he's my soulmate, he loves us in all our trash man entirety!!!”

“I figured you would be excited about that”

The two laughed as Roman pulled the goodies out of the oven. Roman was always happy to have the powers of the imagination as he pulled out trays upon trays of baked goods. He and Remus got to work separating them onto separate plates. And Remus quickly let out an exaggerated breath to cool down everything as they stacked them up to bring out to the living room. Remus sat down next to Patton, handing him a cookie with a soft smile that Patton returned excitedly. Patton scooted closer to Remus and leaned his head on his shoulder.

Roman however, took the last plate of cookies and ventured off to Logan's room. He knocked three times and entered, and like he had expected, Logan was curled up on his bed with a genuinely elated smile on his face as he seemed to behave like pearl from Steven Universe as his eyes glazed over and he watched what Thomas was up to. Roman smiled gently at him, gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of Logan's face. Logan blinked then, focusing back on where he was and closed his eyes again as he leaned into Romans hand.

“Hey there rocket man”

“Hey there”

Logan's eyes open and Roman can't help the skip his heart does when Logan looks at him, his face pure happiness; bliss and love plainly evident in his eyes as he looks at him. Roman cant hold himself back from kissing him right there. It's not long, but it doesn't matter because Logan's smile only gets bigger and Roman only falls even more in love with him.

“You know, maybe it's not so bad you've hidden here, I get to keep this beautiful boy in front of me all to myself”

And Logan laughs, and Roman doesn’t know how he was so lucky, so blessed to be loved by the logical side, to get to see him smile so unashamed, to hear his laugh like bells and sunshine, to be able to hold him close and tell him that he is his universe, his stars and moons and planets and nebulae, that he is his everything and know the feeling is mutual. It's like nothing else, and it's only more intense as the fog of emotions weighs over them all. Not that it makes much of a difference in this moment as Logan looks at him yet again and really this is just how he always feels around him, he doesn’t know if he would ever fall out of the pure bliss of love with Logan, he doesn’t think he will ever be able to look at Logan and not feel his chest swell in happiness.

Logan shifts away a bit and Roman lets his hand fall to his side as Logan climbs out from under his blankets and moves closer to Roman, nearly in his lap, leaning against his chest with his arms around him. Roman wraps his arms around his boyfriend and brings him even closer, placing a kiss on the top of his head. He rubs circles into his back and hums contentedly.

“So, I used your Crofters”

Logan pulls back and glares at Roman and Roman has to hold back the chuckle in his throat.

“I see. I don't think you get cuddles anymore-”

As he said that Roman grabbed one of the cookies and hands it to him and Logan's eyes go wide. He looks between the cookie and Roman and that beautiful smile returns as he takes a bite.

“Is cuddle time still over?”

“You can stay, I suppose. Are there more?”

“Of course”

Logan goes back to curling up in his lap when he finishes his cookie. Roman is happy there, with his boyfriend bundled up in his arms, Thomas off on a date with a cute boy as well as the cookies next to him.

“I love you starlight”

Roman is surprised by that. Logan was not one for outright declarations of love, he much preferred to just show it, it was less awkward for him, easier than getting himself to say it out loud. Not to say he never did, Logan was the one to ask him out first. And there's been other occasions since then, but it was rare to hear him say it. So Roman held Logan tighter and smiled wider.

“I love you too princess”

“How do you think Thomas is doing?”

“Good, I think. I think he's gonna be ok”

“I'm scared. I feel like I cant do my job, there's so many feelings all the time”

“I know baby. It'll be ok. I know you'll figure it out. You always do”

Logan stops responding for a while and Roman is ok with that, with sitting in silence. And then he speaks up again.

“This is going to sound dumb, but it feels like when I’m able to be alone with you, but all the time”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… you make me so… happy. It's hard to focus when I'm with you because I just, you’re so much more important. But now it's like that all the time and it's weird. It's weird to feel it at all, let alone at all times of the day. I just, how do you do work like this?”

Roman felt the surge of love again, he makes Logan happy. He makes Logan so happy that it's hard for him to focus. Logan thought he was important. He felt like he could cry.

“I don't know. It's sort of my element, I think I personally work better with the fog. It's a good feeling to encourage creativity. It's hard for me to do my job these days without it. If it was the slightest bit reasonable id do my work here with you”

Logan stiffens and Roman panics a bit.

“You, what do you mean?”

Logan leans back and looks at him.

“I haven't felt my princely self in a good long while. You make me feel happy too lo, I've been stuck without inspiration for ages but I feel like when I’m with you I could write unendingly, like my creativity can thrive”

Logan's eyes widened and he dove back into Romans chest, face red and warm. Roman chuckled lightly.

“I don't deserve you”

“Your insane Lo. You deserve the world and more”

“You're so good to me. You're so good”

“So are you hun”

“No, Roman, you're so good, you know that right?”

Roman stills. He doesn't understand what Logan is talking about.

“What are you on about Lo?”

“You're good. You're a good person, you're good at your job, you're a good boyfriend, none of us say it enough, but Roman you’re so good and we all love you. I love you so much Roman, I'm sorry that I don't say it enough”

Roman stutters. He doesn't know how to respond but he can feel tears falling down his face. He shoves his face into Logan's hair as he feels himself shake from the sobs he feels escaping.

“Thank you Logan, I love you too, god I love you so much Logan”

Logan leans back again when Roman stops crying with a small smile.

“You wanna watch some Disney?”

“That sounds amazing”

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @booklover223

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

#roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #duke remus #janus sanders #ts janus #thomas sanders #canonverse #logince #intruality #sanflorez #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

63 notes · View notes

justcallmefox89 · 4 years

Text

Mammon’s Wedding Part 1 - Truth or Dare Series

Mammon and Arianthi face the emotional fall out from a deeply personal loss. Jax and the twins try to get Arianthi to see that maybe not all of her friends have her best interests at heart. Mammon’s worst fear is realized as an outsider attempts to undermine his relationship with Arianthi.

Mood List:

JP Saxe - If The World Was Ending Alessia Cara - I Choose Mich - Lucky One Jamie Lawson - Don’t Let Me Let You Go Skinny Living - Let Me In Yuna - Deeper Conversation

Written from the perspective of my female OC Arianthi. Also contains my enby OC Jax Monteiro from the Obey Me AU Artist in the Devildom series. ‘Dancing On My Own’ from the Artist in the Devildom series is a precursor to this story.

TWs - discussions of miscarriage, death, infant loss, emotional trauma and manipulation.

(artwork is a commission of Mammon and my OC Arianthi created by @daddydemus. go check out their page and show them some love!)

I hold Mammon close, rocking back and forth and rubbing his back, making soft noises of comfort. This continues long after Jax and Beel have shut the bedroom door behind them. Mammon’s sobs eventually slow, tapering off into the occasional sniffle or hiccup.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened tonight?” I murmur, running my fingers through his hair.

Mammon shakes his head, refusing to look at me.

“Baby, please? Let me take a look at you,” I cajole gently, cupping his jaw in my hands and slowly lifting his head until I can get a clear look at his face.

He still won’t look at me, blues eyes darting around until they finally fixate on a point along the far wall of the bedroom.

I take in the cuts on his face, the bruises, his split lip. His breath reeks of alcohol, and he smells like blood and piss and vomit.

“Mammon what happened?” I whisper in shock, brushing my thumb across his swollen lower lip. “Who did this to you?”

He shrugs, still stubbornly refusing to meet my eyes or speak.

“Someone hurt you,” I say, internally cursing myself when I hear my voice break. “Tell me who hurt you baby.”

Hearing the raw distress in my voice Mammon’s eyes finally meet mine. The vise around my heart tightens a little more when I see the dull, flat expression in his eyes instead of the usual fiery and playful spark.

I helped do this. I buried my head in the sand and let my relationship burn to the ground.

“Just a fight at the club,” Mammon finally says, his voice low and monotone.

I wait patiently for him to elaborate, gently stroking my thumbs over his cheekbones. My eyes roam over him, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the hollow look of his face, a clear sign of his weight loss over the past month. When he doesn’t say anything else I stand, tugging on his hands until he’s standing next to me.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up my love,” I murmur, pulling him into a soft hug.

Mammon takes a deep, shuddering breath before he nods. “Yeah, ok. That sounds good.”

I lead him into our bathroom and he stands by silently as I run warm water into the bathtub, and gather up the soap and shampoo I know he loves. As the bath fills up I go to our linen closet and pull out a soft, fluffy towel and clean sheets and blankets for our bed. I find a clean t-shirt and pair of sweats and bring them into the bathroom.

Mammon watches me as I turn off the water and I turn to him expectantly, waiting for him to undress. When he doesn’t move I break the silence.

“Would you like me to....?” I trail off and gesture at his clothes.

Mammon bites his lip and nods, blue eyes bright with an emotion I can’t quite place.

I slowly help him out of his jacket and shirt, careful of any bruises he may have from his fight earlier in the evening. Once his torso is bare I take stock of his injuries, my stomach twisting at each mark that mars his perfect skin. A huge blue and purple bruise covers his left side, and he sucks in a shaky breath when I run my fingertips along his ribs to see if any have been broken.

“I’m sorry! Did I make it worse?” I ask, withdrawing my fingers quickly, panicked that I’ve hurt him.

Mammon shakes his head and brushes his fingertips against the back of my hand.

“It’s been so long since you just touched me,” he whispers, a pained sound breaking low in his throat.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

My throat tightens, rendering me unable to speak. I lower my head, gently brushing my lips over every bruise, every cut, praying he understands me even without words. I press a lingering kiss to the smooth skin of his chest, over his heart, before raising his hands to my mouth and dusting soft kisses across his bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“Let’s get you into that bath,” I finally murmur, helping him carefully step out his jeans and boxers.

Mammon sinks slowly into the bath, hissing between clenched teeth as the hot water touches his open cuts. After a moment he breathes a little easier, relaxing and resting his head against the cool tile behind him.

“I’m going to go put clean sheets on our bed,” I say quietly.

He closes his eyes and nods to let me know he heard me. I turn and leave the bathroom, uneasy in my soul.

I messed up. I messed up so bad.

I quickly strip the dirty sheets and blankets off of our bed, bundling them up and setting them by the door to take to the laundry room in the morning. I make the bed, using the soft sheets and plush blankets I know are Mammon’s favorites. I find our pillows in various places on the floor and stuff them into new pillowcases, plumping them up before setting them onto the bed.

When I return to the bathroom Mammon still has his eyes closed, his chest and faced flushed from the heat of the water. He stirs as I approach and sit on the edge of the bathtub, idly running my fingers through the water.

“Want me to wash your hair for you baby?” I ask softly.

He sighs happily and sinks lower in the water, wetting his hair. “That’d be nice.”

I pour a generous amount of his shampoo into my hands, then gently later it into his hair, inhaling the sweet sent of vanilla and black currant as I use my fingertips to massage his scalp.

Mammon moans, low and sweet, as some of the tension leaves his body. He gives a deep rumble of satisfaction as I scoop water in my hands and rinse his hair, then repeat the process with his conditioner.

“Can you sit up a little for me my love?” I rub his shoulders, slick with shampoo and water.

He obeys, and a familiar heat coils low in my belly as I watch the water sluice down his shoulders and chest, droplets following the lines of the muscles in his abdomen and back.

“Tell me if anything hurts ok?”

“Mmmhmm.”

I squeeze some body wash into the palm of my hands, slowly lathering it as I run my hands along his lithe body, gently washing away the stink of booze and the grime from his night out.

“I missed your hands,” Mammon murmurs, arching into my touch.

“I’ve missed you,” I reply, pressing my lips into his wet hair so he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes. “Why don’t you rinse off and I’ll find some stuff for those cuts, ok baby?”

He runs his long fingers against the inside of my forearm, his touch lingering. “Sounds good.”

I rinse my hands in the sink and rummage through the medicine cabinet for our first aid kit as he drains the bath water and starts the shower. Once I find the kit I leave the bathroom, setting it on our bed and shucking off my clothes. I change into a clean pair of boy shorts and one of Mammon’s old shirts, then sit on our bed to wait.

Mammon emerges from the bathroom around fifteen minutes later, dressed and toweling his hair dry. He sits down on the edge of the bed and glances at me quickly before looking back down at the floor.

“Ya still wanna play nurse?” He ask shyly.

I reach out and softly take his hands in mine. “Let me take care of you Mammon.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath before moving a little closer to me. “Alright baby.”

I open the first aid kit, removing various items.

“This might sting a tiny bit,” I warn him, before dabbing at the cut on his forehead with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic.

“Oi!” He flinches away from my touch. “That hurts!”

I blow a puff of cool air over the cut. “That help?”

Mammon grumbles a little before reluctantly saying, “Yeah.”

I bandage the cut, then kiss it softly. “Now it’s all better.”

Mammon huffs out a low laugh before holding out his hands so I can repeat the process on his knuckles. I cup his chin in my hand when I’ve finished, turning his head this way and that, examining his split lip and the bruise on his jaw.

“I can’t do much for your lip baby, expect put some ice on it,” I finally say, dropping my hand.

He reaches out and snatches my hand before it hits the mattress. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?”

His tone is teasing, but his voice is low and husky, his eyes bright and hungry. The heat I felt in the bathroom explodes into an inferno between my thighs.

How long has it been since I’ve kissed him? Over five weeks now?

I lean forward and press a series of sweet kisses against the bruise that runs along his jaw, finally giving him a soft and lingering kiss, cautious of his split lip. He whines when I pull away and leans forward, silently asking for more. I slide my hands into his hair, still damp from the shower, and kiss him again, just as gentle as before.

Mammon’s hands shoot forward, gripping my shirt and attempting to pull me closer. I push gently against his chest.

“Let’s, um, let’s get into bed baby.” I scoot away from him and crawl beneath the sheets.

He frowns at me slightly, before closing up the first aid kit and returning it to the bathroom. He turns the bedrooms lights off before he slides under the sheets next to me. We lay next to each other, completely silent, five weeks of sleeping apart having made us strangers once again.

Mammon finally reaches out to me. “Can I.....?”

I nod and allow him to pull me flush to his chest, cradling me in his arms.

“I’ve missed you so damn much baby. Not havin’ ya with me has been awful.” He whispers into my hair, holding me tight.

I cuddle into his chest, relaxing into his familiar warmth. “I’ve missed you too Mammon.”

We lay silently together in the dark, becoming accustomed to each other again. Soothed by his presence I start to drift off to sleep when Mammon suddenly starts to speak.

“Do you think......do ya think it was my fault?” His voice is tight with pain and he struggles to breathe evenly. “Do ya think it was because of me?”

I blink a few times in confusion, before pushing myself up with one arm and looking down at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Mammon rubs his hands over his face in distress, before reaching out and softly placing one on my stomach.

“Do ya think it was my fault?” He asks again, whispering this time, his eyes bright with tears.

I reach out and touch my fingertips to his cheek. “No, of course not baby. How could it be?”

He lays his head back on his pillow, tears sliding down his cheeks and dotting the pillow case. “Maybe he was punishing me.”

“Who?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.

“My father.” He turns his head to look at me, heartbreak painted across his features. “Do ya think maybe he was punishin’ me for my part in the rebellion? For everything I’ve done since then?”

His voice breaks and I feel his hand trembling against my stomach. “You and our baby are the only things I’ve ever really wanted to keep for myself; to just be mine, forever. The only people I’ve ever really loved besides my brothers and Lilith. Do ya think he knows that? Knew that if he took our baby it would break me? Maybe break us?”

“Oh Mammon.......” I pull him into my arms and he breaks down, sobbing against me. “Nothing that happened was your fault. None of it. Do you hear me?”

He’s crying too hard to respond.

“I promise you, none of this happened because of anything you’ve done.” I rub his back soothingly, trying to hold back my own tears.

Don’t cry. Stay strong for him. He needs you right now.

“Do you hate me? Because I wasn’t there?” His voice is muffled, his lips pressed against my neck.

I close my eyes, thinking back. My pain, the fear for our baby. Diavolo taking me to the hospital, holding my hand, comforting me. The panic I felt when Mammon didn’t answer his D.D.D. The numbness that crept into my soul when the doctor told me our baby was gone, miscarried at 15 weeks. Diavolo holding me when I finally broke down, screaming and raging at the doctors and the nurses. Throwing things, crying and pleading for the only person who could make things right. Begging for Mammon.

“For a while I thought I did,” I finally admit, allowing my tears to flow freely. “I was so mad, so fucking angry, because I needed you and you weren’t there. We needed you Mammon. Not Diavolo. You.”

Mammon whispers a curse against my neck, crushing me to him in a fierce hug. “I am so fucking sorry Arianthi. So, so fucking sorry. I never should have left ya alone like that.”

“So am I,” I whisper, stroking his hair back from his forehead. “I was wrong for pushing you away. For acting like you weren’t hurt by what happened; I should have been there for you.”

“Would you......will ya tell me about our baby? Please?” Mammon asks hesitantly, rubbing slow circles between my shoulder blades with one large hand.

I swallow hard, afraid of the memories I’ve spent weeks trying to shove down and forget.

“A little boy,” I finally whisper. “The doctor said we had a little boy.”

“Ya didn’t see him?”

I shake my head and cling to him tightly. “He was so tiny........I just.........I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh baby. Shhhh. It’s alright, it’s ok.” Mammon pets my hair. “Do ya think he would’ve looked like us?”

I sniff and wipe my eyes with the edge of the sheet. “Yeah, I do.”

“What would he have looked like baby? Tell me.”

“He would’ve look just like you,” I say, reaching up to touch his jaw. “Your hair and your complexion. But my eyes.”

Mammon kisses my forehead. “I think you’re right. Our baby would’ve....... is beautiful.”

“I named him,” I admit in a soft whisper. “I know it probably doesn’t matter because he........... it just didn’t feel right that he didn’t have a name.”

“It matters baby, of course it matters.”

Mammon holds me so tightly I feel my bones creak and I sigh, feeling safe and whole for the first time in weeks.

“Would ya tell me our son’s name? Please?” He whispers.

“Benjamin,” I finally say softly. “I named him Benjamin Tate. Is that ok?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, giving me a gentle kiss. “It’s just perfect baby.”

We both fall asleep easily, finally at peace now that we’re together again.

I wake the next afternoon to a silent house, Mammon still snoring softly beside me. I curl my body around his, peppering his shoulders and upper back with soft kisses. He gives a low grunt and languidly stretches, pressing back against me, before once again going limp with sleep. I smile to myself and and kiss his neck one last time before getting out of bed.

An hour later I’m showered, dressed in clean clothes, and sitting behind my desk in my private office, cradling a mug of tea in my hands while I go through R.A.D. paperwork that needs my attention.

There’s a soft rap on the doorjamb and Jax peeks their head around the corner. “Hey, you busy?”

“Not particularly,” I answer, setting my mug down on my desk. “Why? What’s up?”

They scuff at the carpet nervously with one foot. “We were, uh, we were wondering if we could talk to you for a sec?”

I raise my eyebrows. “We?”

Jax shuffles into my office, followed by closely by Beel and Belphie.

“Hey all,” I say, smiling at the three of them, happy but confused by their presence.

Beel and Belphie immediately flop into the two chairs in front of my desk while Jax looks around the room for another place to sit. Beel eventually grabs them by the waist and hauls them into his chair. Belphie and I snicker as their face turns pink and they squirm to get comfortable in Beel’s lap.

Once Jax has settled down I take a sip of my tea and lean back in my chair, waiting.

Beel leans forward to rests his chin on Jax’s shoulder, looking at me with concern. “How’s Mammon?”

“He’s still sleeping. I helped him take a bath last night and cleaned up all of his cuts. We talked about some things, and he seemed to feel a little better after that. Thanks for taking care of him last night Beel. You’re a good brother.”

I give him a soft smile while Jax beams at him with pride. Beel’s ears turn pink and he shyly looks at his feet in an effort to escape the attention.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbles.

“And thanks for coming with Jax to get me last night Belphie.”

He gives me a sleepy smile and cuddles his pillow closer to his chest. “You’re welcome.”

Jax nervously looks back and forth between the twins, as if they’re waiting for one of them to say something.

“Is something wrong Jax? Did something happen?” I ask, suddenly worried.

“Kinda,” they finally admit.

“Are you ok?” I’m instantly my feet and in front of them, checking them over for injuries.

“Oh no! No, it’s not me,” Jax assures me.

“They’re fine,” Beel says, glancing at Belphie. “We’re worried about you.”

I frown at them and return to my chair.

“I told you last night I was fine Jax. They doctors have cleared me; physically I’m fine. And Mammon and I are talking again so-”

“You need to stop spending time with Diavolo,” Belphie interrupts.

“I’m sorry?”

“What happened to a delicate approach?” Jax grumbles, scrubbing a hand over their face.

“You saw how he was last night, we don’t have time-”

“Beelzebub,” I interrupt Belphie. “What is going on?”

Beel’s eyes widen and he looks at Jax in a panic. They squeeze his hand and give him an encouraging smile.

“I- we don’t think that spending time with Diavolo is a good idea. For you. Especially right now, when things between you and Mammon have been......”

“Fucked up.” Belphie helpfully finishes Beel’s sentence.

“Really?” Jax chastises Belphie, irritation evident on their face. “Could you not be you? For just a few minutes? Please?”

“Beel? Are you really going to let them talk to me like that?” Belphie demands, pouting.

Beel opens his mouth to answer but I cut in.

“You three have one minute to explain exactly why you think I need to stay away from my friend and employer. Starting now.”

The twins both look at Jax, silently electing them as the group’s spokesperson.

“We think he’s taking advantage of you,” Jax says hurriedly.

I make a point of looking at the time on my computer.

This is insane.

“He’s taking advantage of what happened, of how distant you and Mammon have been. He’s manipulating your friendship with him,” Jax finishes speaking in a rush.

“This discussion is over,” I say, pushing back my chair and standing up. “I appreciate you three looking out for us, but how I handle my relationship with Dia is between Mammon and I. Dia has been supportive of me through everything that has happened since I’ve been in the Devildom.”

“That’s the problem!” Belphie shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Goddamn it Belphegor.

I shake my head, equally frustrated. “The problem is that my friend has been taking care of me and helping me through losing my child? That he gave me a job and allowed me to stay here with Mammon and you guys? Is that really what you’re saying right now?”

Jax and Beel flinch away from our raised voices.

“Of course not, but don’t be stupid and just think for a second Arianthi,” Belphie pleads, looking over at his twin for backup. “Diavolo was almost in Mammon’s position. He’s doing everything Mammon should be doing. He’s been keeping you close to him, taking care of everything you need. Has he even once encouraged you to come home instead of working with him? To spend time with Mammon and process what happened?”

I bite back a reply, knowing that Belphie is right.

But does that really mean Dia was doing it on purpose?

“I’m not saying he makes all the right choices all the time, but Diavolo has always looked out for me. I don’t think that’s necessarily manipulation on his part,” I finally say hesitantly.

“Then why didn’t he give you your D.D.D. last night when I called?” Jax responds. “I know you fell asleep, but I told him it was an emergency and that Mammon needed you and he didn’t even try to wake you up. Who knows how many other times he’s done that?”

I don’t have an answer.

“We obviously don’t have all the answers............... it just seems like Diavolo may be, manipulating might not be the right word, but he’s definitely taking advantage of the fact that you and Mammon haven’t been talking,” Beel adds.

I start picking at my cuticles anxiously, considering everything they’re telling me. Interpreting my silence as stubborn refusal to see the truth, Belphie comes in with the killing blow.

“Arianthi, why didn’t Diavolo send Barbatos to get Mammon?” He asks softly.

My head snaps up at his question, cuticles momentarily forgotten. “What do you mean? When?”

Jax and Beel shoot him matching glares of warning, but Belphie presses on.

“When you went to the hospital, when Mammon didn’t answer his D.D.D., why didn’t Diavolo send Barbatos to find him?”

My knees buckle as I realize exactly what Belphie is saying, and I plant my hands on my desk to steady myself.

Oh my god.

“Everybody leave,” I finally say, forcing the words out.

Jax stands up and hesitantly reaches out to me. “Arianthi we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to -”

“No, you did the right thing,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek, using the pain to stay focused. “I need you three to go check on Mammon. Keep him away from my office for awhile.”

Jax exchanges a worried look with Beel.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea-” they begin to say, before Belphie grabs them by the arm and starts marching them to the door.

Beel stays behind, holding his arms open, waiting on me.

“Thanks Beel.” I relax into the hug, smiling at the familiar scent of sugar cookies.

Once he’s shut the door behind him I snatch my D.D.D. off my desk and tap out a quick message.

Thirty minutes later Diavolo sits in one of the visitor’s chairs in my office. I stay in my office chair, electing to keep my desk between us.

He gives me a good-natured smile. “Did you finally get some sleep princess?”

I flinch at the nickname and try to catch myself, but Diavolo notices.

“Is something wrong Arianthi? Did something happen?” Diavolo asks, voice filled with concern.

I hesitate, wondering if I’m doing the right thing, wondering if Belphie is right. I close my eyes, picturing Mammon’s face.

I need to know.

“Dia I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me,” I finally say softly.

“Of course,” he replies easily, flashing me his usual charming grin. “I’ve always been honest with you princess.”

Have you though?

“Dia, when we went to the hospital why didn’t you,” I pause to take a deep breath. “Why didn’t you get Mammon?”

Worry and confusion flicker across Diavolo’s face. “You tried to call him Arianthi. He had his D.D.D. turned off. We weren’t able to reach him.”

I swallow hard, bracing myself. “You could have sent Barbatos to find him.”

Diavolo’s eyes narrow fractionally and his gaze hardens, but he says nothing.

“Diavolo, when I needed Mammon why didn’t you send Barbatos to go find him? Barbatos could’ve found him for me.” My eyes sting and I blink rapidly, trying to hold my tears at bay.

He gazes at me impassively, not the Diavolo I’ve come to know and adore as my friend, but Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom, the most powerful demon in hell.

He taps his fingertips against the arm of his chair, cocking his head to the side and looking at me thoughtfully. “You really would have had him there? The irresponsible demon who left you alone while you were pregnant and shut off the one way you could reach him so he could gamble uninterrupted?”

I’m going to be sick.

“He’s Benjamin’s father,” I whisper. “He’s my fiance. Of course he should have been there.”

Diavolo’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly.

“You’re still planning to marry him? You are a constant surprise princess,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“So Belphie was right? You were just manipulating me the whole time?”

“Manipulating you?” Diavolo looks offended.

“Were you?” I ask quietly, too hurt to be angry.

“Of course not! I just wanted what was best for you; I’ve always wanted the best for you Arianthi.”

My stomach lurches into my throat.

“And you think you’re what’s best for me?”

Diavolo lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug.

“You can’t do things like that Diavolo. You can’t just take away people’s choices like that,” I mutter.

“I made the choices I thought were best. I will not apologize for that,” Diavolo says, his voice icy.

I just stare at him in shock, barely breathing.

“I will never apologize for taking care of the woman I love,” he continues, golden eyes studying me carefully.

That statement snaps me out of my daze.

“I’m not yours to take care of Diavolo,” I whisper, an icy sense of betrayal washing over me. “Or to love.”

“You should be! You were supposed to be,” he growls. “You are wasted on a demon like Mammon.”

“You need to leave. Right now.”

Diavolo raises his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

“I need you to listen very carefully to me, my lord. I will continue to perform my duties at R.A.D., but you have crossed a line. From this point forward we will have a strictly professional relationship.” I speak plainly, enunciating every word clearly.

“Princess......”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “No more nicknames. No more inside jokes. No more hanging out together outside of work. I can’t forgive you for this.”

I’m too shocked and hurt to be angry right now. And suddenly so, so tired; exhausted by his betrayal.

“Arianthi,” Diavolo begins.

“You heard her. You need to leave, my lord.” A low voice, mocking.

Diavolo and I both whip around to see Mammon standing in the doorway of my office, casually leaning against the door jamb.

“You need to go,” I repeat. “I will be working remotely for the foreseeable future. If there is anything urgent that needs my attention, Barbatos or Solomon can let me know.”

Diavolo defiantly stays seated.

Mammon shrugs, pushing off the doorway to stand up straight. “I’m gonna go find Lucifer and the rest of my brothers. See what they’re up to.”

Diavolo scowls at the implied threat, but stands. He doesn’t look at me as he walks out, brushing past Mammon as he exits my office.

Mammon and I stare at each other in silence until I finally push my chair back from my desk.

“I’m going back to bed,” I say.

Mammon follows me wordlessly, shutting and locking our bedroom door behind us. We both strip down to our underwear and crawl back into bed, gravitating to each other in the middle of the mattress, arms wrapping around each other.

“I’m so sorry Mammon,” I whisper, nuzzling my head into his neck. “I should have known what he was doing.”

“Hey now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair. “None of that.”

I hold him tighter, guilt roiling in my gut.

Mammon shifts, sensing my unease. “I’m serious baby. I’m not lettin’ ya feel bad about this. He made his choices all on his own. You didn’t have nothin’ to do with that.”

I kiss his bare shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. He squirms, giggling softly.

“Tickles,” he mumbles.

I huff out a soft laugh and wiggle closer to him, pressing my body flush against his, inhaling the familiar scents of vanilla, leather, and cherry kush.

“Arianthi?” Mammon says my name softly, shyly.

“Mmmmm?” I move and lay my head on his chest, listening to the soft thump, thump, thump, of his heart.

“You ever wish ya chose different?” The question comes out hesitantly, like he’s afraid to hear the answer.

I roll onto my back, pulling him on top of me. He settles his hips between my thighs, body tight to mine, his weight pressing me down into the mattress. He cradles my face in his hands, blue eyes studying me intently, hopefully.

“Never,” I answer.

He arches an eyebrow at me, skeptical.

I card my hands through his hair, burying my fingers in the silky white strands.

“Not once have I ever regretted choosing you,” I murmur before brushing my lips against his in a gentle kiss. “You are the one I love above all others. It’s always been you Mammon. It always will be.”

He kisses me, and I can feel his smile against my lips. “I love you so much.”

“Marry me,” I whisper.

He chuckles before giving me another soft kiss. “Of course I’m gonna marry ya human. Whaddya think that ring I got ya is for?”

I giggle and nuzzle my face into his neck.

“I know we were planning a big wedding,” I whisper. “But what if we don’t wait anymore?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah?”

“I never want to be apart from you again. I love you and I know you’re my future. So will you marry me Mammon? No more waiting?”

Mammon’s slender fingers stroke my cheek as he gazes down at me, blue eyes bright with tears of happiness.

“Of course I’ll marry you ya dumb human,” he whispers. “As soon as possible.”

He lowers his head and his lips meet mine in a kiss that is soft, sweet, and full of promise.

43 notes · View notes

dr0wning-in-hell · 5 years

Text

Just the Right Way - Cisco Ramon

Summary : On one lazy night you and your boyfriend Cisco decide to stay in and watch movies and cuddle. When you grow bored of the film you move your body in just the right way to get Cisco going.

Word Count : 1.9k +

Warnings : smut, teasing, flustered!cisco, blow job, fingering,

Pairing / Characters : Cisco Ramon x reader,

Prompt : “Do you take requests for The Flash still?? If so could I request a Cisco fic about him cuddling you all innocent until you shift juuuust the right way and brush him and he gets all hot and bothered?? Thanks in advance!” - anon

A/N : I’m going to try to post more, I’m so sorry i’ve been so inactive.

new masterlist | requests | prompt list

“Babe, hurry up! I’ll start the movie without you!” Y/N shouted to her boyfriend of two years who was taking such a painfully long time with the popcorn.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Cisco waved his free hand in the air, walking over to the couch his girlfriend was lounging on and sitting next to her. Cisco placed the bowl on the ground and pulled Y/N close to him, laying them on their sides so that he could spoon her on the couch.

Y/N started the movie, one she truly did love, but today she wasn’t up for watching a movie, no, she had formulated a plan that morning to get herself and her boyfriend laid. As the couple watched the film she adjusted herself fittingly so that her ass was covering Cisco’s clothes crotch. If she move in just the right way, she’d be grinding her ass back on his covered cock and getting him hard in seconds. That’s exactly what she did.

Moving around one last time she pressed her bum especially hard against Cisco’s pelvis and ground down just the slightest. She heard him hiss, his biceps flexing and squeezing her body just a little bit tighter. Y/N felt something poking at her ass, causing a smirk to grace her lips. Her plan had worked.

“Babygirl, what are you up to?’ Cisco growled into her ear, his hands moving down to her hips and pressing her against him even harder.

“Nothing, baby,” Y/N looked back at him a little and smirked, “Why is something bothering you?” The look on Y/N’s face drove Cisco crazy. He knew that now she had planned this all along. In one swift motion he was on top of her, hands groping her body as she arched up into him for any sort of friction.

“You planned this didn’t you?” He asked her, hands sliding under her shirt and removing it from her body. Y/N didn’t say anything, she just remained quiet as she bit her lip. “Come on now, speak up.”

Y/N tried to look as innocent as possible when speaking her next few words, “I may have planned it just a little.” Cisco chuckled his hands now yanking down her pajama shorts, leaving her in her lace panties and bra. The sight itself would have made Cisco cum right there in his jeans if he hadn’t already began to formulate a revenge plan of his own. It was his favorite pair of lingerie too, his favorite color against her skin, and the thin material hugging her just right to make his favorite parts of her body look even more extravagant. “Okay, maybe I planned it a lot.”

“Well, you certainly know what you want, huh princess?” Y/N nodded, shivering slightly as his fingertips ran down the inside of her thigh and ghosted against her covered pussy. “Tell me, what do you want?”

Y/N gulped, “I want you to eat me out, finger me and make me cum until I’m crying.” She breathed out, “And I want you to use your powers on me.” Cisco’s eyes looked up at her then, eyebrows quirked.

“Such a naughty girl, huh? Well, I’I’ll give me princess anything she wants.” After easily discarding the last articles of clothing that Y/N was dress in, Cisco knelt down between his girlfriend’s legs and licked his lips at the sight of her dripping core. Before she could say anything to him he attached his lips to her her clit, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around the soft nub. Y/N gasped, back reaching out for his long locks so she had something to hold onto. Cisco’s motions were precise, he knew what he was doing when he lapped at her folds, stuck his tongue into her aching entrance and then went back to her clit. The way she was already moaning his name meant that this was a going to be a long night ahead.

“Mhm, baby it feels so good, fuck- keep going please.” Y/N begged, Cisco obliged, not even stopping when he pushed two of his thick digits into her core. The mewl that came from his lover’s lips was enough to keep him going. He fingered her hard and fast, curling his fingers every few thrusts and then scissoring them to open her up more.

“So tight for me darling, I can’t wait to have this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock.” Cisco growled when he pulled away from her pussy, her juices streaking his lips and chin. Y/N was so close to cumming, she just needed a little bit more and she’d have reached her high. As she was about to warn her boyfriend he used his other hand to hover two fingers above her clit, and used his powers at their lowest level to send vibration after vibration to her bundle of nerves.

“Fuck!” Y/N screeched, back arching high off the couch. She went to move away, the pleasure being almost too much, but Cisco kept her in place, going through with what she said about having him make her cum until she was crying. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” She chanted, her hands gripping onto his hair even tighter as the coil in the bottom of stomach was about to snap. Cisco kept up with his actions, one hand sending vibrations to her clit, the other finger fucking her until she finally came undone around his fingers, body shaking as she came down from her high.

Cisco gently pulled his fingers from her heat, her cum ran down his skin as he pulled them to his mouth and sucked them clean. “You taste like candy, my love.” Cisco hummed, “So sweet. You wanna taste?” Y/N nodded, still attempting to catch her breathe but she sat herself up and attached her lips to Cisco’s, their tongues molding together as they made out furiously. She could taste herself on his lips and his tongue, making her moan against his mouth. Y/N began to undress her boyfriend seeing as though he was still fully clothed. Cisco got up off the couch, breaking the kiss to remove his pants and boxers, releasing some of the tension on his straining cock.

“Now it’s my turn, handsome.” Y/N pushed Cisco onto his back, the man made room for her between his legs so she could sit there comfortably. Y/N’s mouth watered as she stared at his throbbing dick. She couldn’t help but smirk because she knew that she was the cause of this. Reaching out, she took his length in her hand and began to pump him slowly, then she built up her pace as she lowered her head onto his cock. The warmth of her mouth had Cisco’s eyes rolling back. He always loved the way her mouth felt around him, obviously it was nothing compared to her pussy, but this was a close second.

Y/N moved her head up and down, swirling her tongue as she sucked him off. Her head twisted with her movements, cheeks hollowing out to make it feel tighter for him. His hands pushed her hair into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide her head down on him. What Y/N couldn’t fit into her mouth she jerked off with her hand, making sure her head and hand were timed perfectly together.

“So good, babygirl, doing so good.” Cisco moaned, “Love the way you work that beautiful mouth on me.” He involuntarily jerked his hips up, pushing what was left of his cock down Y/N’s throat. Through her gagging and the growing amount of tears in her eyes she took all of him in her mouth until he was cumming down her throat. She kept her head in one place, keeping his cock in her mouth and letting him gently face fuck her through his high.

When Y/N pulled back Cisco was looking at her with utter love in his eyes. “I love you so damn much.” He breathed out.

Y/N chuckled, “I love you too, now fuck me.” Cisco didn’t have to be told twice. Pulling Y/N on top of him, her thighs straddling his waist, he reached behind her to grab hold of his still hard cock, and pushed it into her aching walls. The moan that left her mouth was enough to set Cisco on fire, his body burning with the need to fuck his girlfriend until she could no longer handle it. Y/N began to ride Cisco, her hips moving slowly as she tried to build up a good pace. With every slam of her ass coming down on Cisco’s thighs, he would thrust up into her, causing her to cry out in pleasure.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Cisco hummed, one hand on Y/N’s breast and the other on her ass so he could feel all of her, “Gonna make you feel so good.” Y/N had lost her momentum, allowing Cisco to take over from there as he fucked her hard and fast, and then slow and lovingly.

Y/N loved the change in pace and aggression, it only egged on her second orgasm of the night.Y/N mewled out, head tilting back and eyes rolling back to their whites, “Love when you fuck me like this, feels so good.” Y/N panted. Cisco’s hand was coming down on her ass every time it made contact with his thighs, causing jolts of pain and pleasure to course through her body. Y/N was trembling, her orgasm already on the brink of making her explode, but she didn’t want to cum without Cisco.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby?” Cisco asked as he rocked his ups once more. Y/N nodded, biting her lip as she leaned forward to leave sloppy kisses down Cisco’s neck, “Right there with you, love, cum all over my cock like I know you want to.” With just a few more heavy thrusts Y/N was convulsing around Cisco’s cock, body trembling as she quickly kissed his lips to try and steady herself. Cisco weaved his hands into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer as he stilled inside her and came in her warm cunt. The two were moaning into each other’s mouths, breathing heavily as they tried to calm themselves down.

After a few minutes of lazy kisses and slow movements, Cisco pulled his cock from his lovers pussy, the mix of their seed slowly dripping from her core and onto her skin. “Well that was a surprise, wasn’t it?” Cisco laughed softly as he moved Y/N’s hair out of her sweaty face.Y/N hummed, smiling tiredly at her boyfriend, “Maybe for you it was surprise, but I planned it this morning. Knew I had to move in just the right way to get things going.”

125 notes · View notes

canid-slashclaw · 5 years

Text

Pocket Raptor Surprise

The heat from the midday sun beat down relentlessly upon the parched soil of the Dry Step Mesas. Off in the distance, massive vines snaked their way up from a ravine that looked as if the surface of Tyria itself had cracked open releasing some ancient and malevolent force. For a certain pair of intrepid (and over fashionably-dressed) bounty hunters, such trivial things were the least of their concern.

Amalthia tilted her head back as she raised a metal canteen to her gaping maw then shook the container a few times before giving her human husband an apprehensive gaze.

“Kal?”

“Yeah, babe?” Kaleb replied as he noticed a decidedly scolding look on her face.

“Did you, like, happen to forget to bring some extra water rations after knowing full-well that we’d be trouncing around in a godsforsaken freakin’ desert?!”

“Um, no,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, wasn’t that your responsibility? You know-- taking care of provisions and all?” He, then, gestured to her with a pistol finger and wink.

His action only enabled his wife in unleashing both her inner, as well as outer, charr. “My responsibility? Are you freaking kidding me!? You damn know good and well that it is my job to maintain all the weaponry and your job to handle the other logistics… like keeping us fed and hydrated. After all, you are the chef de partie of our little outfit, right?”

“Woah, woah. Stop right there, miss pissykitty! Just ‘cause you have fangs, horns and a furry tail doesn’t automatically make you the only master-at-arms here. We’re a team, remember? It’s both our jobs to watch each others’ backs.” He stepped closer towards her offering his hand.

She looked away, bowed her head, sighed for a moment before looking back into his eyes then letting out a subdued growl. “Gah! You’ve got a point. Sorry, love. It’s just this heat is really putting me in a pissy mood.”

He gently clasped hold of her paw then gave her a kiss on her lower right ear. “I’m sorry too, babe. For being an idiot and all. Yeah. The forgetting the water thing? That’s totally on me.” Amalthia leaned her head into his, gave him a gentle nuzzle under his chin then licked him on the face. “Why yes it is. But I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you... this time. But piss me off again and you’ll find yourself greasing your own piston for at least the next six months.”

“Well that’s comforting to know. At least we can cling to each other until we succumb to dehydration and someone eventually finds our mummified remains lovingly wrapped in each others’ deathly embrace,” Kaleb said with a smile as he began to massage the back of her thickly muscled neck.

She looked lovingly into his brown eyes as a fangy smile flashed across her face. “Mister Grimwald – you have got to be the most wonderful bundle of human weirdness that I’ve ever come across. Okay… I think the heat is really getting to me now.”

“Why’d you say that?” Kaleb looked at her puzzled.

Her ears began to twitch. “Don’t you hear it? Oh wait… your hearing isn’t as sensitive as mine.”

“No. I do hear it. Oh wait… look!” He swung his head around suddenly then pointed towards what appeared to be a chicken-sized velociraptor. She turned and saw it as well.

“Hey little guy.” Kaleb reached into his coat pocket then pulled out a roll of dried meat as he began waving it at the small creature. The raptor cautiously backed away from him while making a high-pitched chirping noise. “I’ve got some jerky. Wanna try?”

Amalthia shook her head. “Um. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kal.”

“Aww. C’mon, Ama. How bad can a little fella like this be?” Kaleb said as he pointed towards what appeared to be the creature’s nest. “Hey look. Eggs. If we take one each to nourish ourselves and save the rest, then maybe we can hatch them. Katie always wanted an unusual pet.”

His charr wife let out a more forceful growl this time. “No! We are not hatching anything that comes from this awful place. Remember why we came here -- for the bounties, right?”

Her husband huffed. “For the bounties. I got it. But, dammit Ama, we could raise a clutch of these and sell ‘em in Lion’s Arch for a fair amount of coin. I mean what kid wouldn’t want one of these for a pet?”

Shaking her head, Amalthia promptly reached into her husband’s rucksack then pulled out a field guide titled, Tyria’s Field Guide to Native Flora and Fauna Vol. IX. Using her long clawed index finger, she quickly thumbed through the pages until found what she was looking for.

“Let’s see. Raptors… raptors… Big, mean teethy, poison clawed… Oh. Here it is!” She looked up only to find that her husband had suddenly darted off towards one of the nests. As she watched him snatch up the eggs then put them into his rucksack, she began to read aloud what was in the guide. “Pauxillum fiken talus admorsus – or more commonly known as the Pocket Raptor, is a diminutive subspecies of the common featherbeak raptor and is almost exclusively found in the Heart of the Magumma Jungle and is… oh for Scorchgazer’s sake... are you even paying attention to me, Kal!?”

Her husband gave her a thumbs up even though he was still engrossed in gathering up more eggs from the nest.

“It says pocket raptors are vicious creatures that will bite your face off if half given the chance. So you’d better put those eggs back now before mamma comes back.” She angrily snapped the book closed then shoved it down into her pants pocket.

The mesa suddenly became alive with dozens of high-pitched chirping noises. As Kaleb stowed away the last of the eggs, he was immediately greeted by three more of the tiny raptors. Each of them tilted their heads trying to get him into their field of vision as they began moving towards him at an alarmingly brisk pace.

“Back away from them, Kal. Now!” Amalthia yelled just seconds before the trio lunged at her husband.

With reflexes rivaling those of a cat, Kaleb dodged the assault as the three little beasts leaped just inches above his face. Whirling around as fast as he could he pulled forth his revolvers, Sweet Pea and Lulu, then leveled the barrels at his attackers making sure that his wife was not in the line of fire. The bore of each pistol erupted in a plume of red-hot gas as two of the critters exploded into grizzly globs of flesh and guts; the demise of the third followed a split second later.

Amalthia drew a holosmithing sword from her waistband as her entire body became aglow in a brightly lit shroud of charged energy. Scores more of the creatures appeared from practically every nearby nook and cranny as they began swarming the couple from all angles. A series of deft swishes from her alighted blade reduced several of the vicious attackers to piles of dust as more of the ravenous critters quickly emerged to take the place of their fallen littermates.

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here!” His wife said as her energy shroud began to take on a faint red glow. “Either this asuratech, or my temper is gonna blow at any moment. And when it does, I promise it isn’t going to be pretty.”

Kaleb holstered his pistols then drew forth the greatsword that he had slung on his back. “Bob – time for some action!”

With a series of lightning fast strokes, Kaleb and ‘Bob’ managed to cleave dozens of the little beasts in two as he re-positioned himself in a back-to-back stance with his wife. Moving with an unspoken synchronicity, the husband and wife bounty hunter team hacked and slashed their way through the onslaught until they reached the relative safety of a nearby natural bridge.

Amalthia pointed towards a bluff in the distance. “Hey, look. A downed airship. I’m willing to bet there are some supplies up there, including water.”

Kaleb shook his head. “An airship? Damn, we must have overlooked it the first time around. How could we have missed seeing something that obvious?”

Amalthia laughed. “Because you, dear husband, were too damn busy picking up raptor eggs for your little pet menagerie.”

As the couple wandered closer, several figures began to emerged from atop the bluff. Clad in black and silver armor, the pair quickly realized the individuals were Pact soldiers who were most likely survivors of the airship crash.

“Ho there, stranger,” yelled the tallest Pact member who obviously looked to be a norn and, was in all probability, the leader of the group.

After they met up with the surviving Pact members, Kaleb and Amalthia pitched in to help set up a makeshift camp complete with a mess hall and cooking station. As Kaleb sat down and began guzzling down a huge stein of fresh water, the Pact leader sat down beside him and chuckled. “Word has reached my ears that your cooking skills are the stuff of legends. Thanks to you and your amazing, and also most unusual wife, my troops will enjoy the first good meal they’ve had in a good long time.” Kaleb smiled at the compliment. “Your ears wouldn’t be wrong. But the misses? She’s one helluva cook too, yanno. Not that I had anything to do with it, mind you.” The Pact leader let out a boisterous laugh as he gave Kaleb a hearty slap on the back. “By the spirits, you must be part norn. At least in heart anyway.”

“Chow had better be ready soon. Moog has been staring at me for the last hour. It is not that his staring alone that has me concerned so much as when he starts staring at the salad condiments then back at me that gives me some pause for concern. Not that I think he would actually do anything, mind you, but...” a sylvari Pact member said as he casually pointed towards his asura comrade.

“Oh please. Just looking at you gives me indigestion. Where is our sustenance?”

“Say please.” Amalthia’s voice chimed throughout the tent as she walked towards the table carrying a pan of what appeared to be full of some type of fluffy yellow substance. “Be careful. It’s very hot.” Kaleb looked at his wife and beamed. “Damn, babe! I can’t wait to try it.” She smiled back, her fangs showing. “And I can’t wait for you to try it, my love.”

Once the portions were doled out, everyone in the camp ate heartily then thanked Amalthia for the delicious meal. She sat down beside her husband and nestled her chin atop his head.

The norn Pact leader looked at the unusual couple and commented, “that whatever it was, was absolutely amazing! What did you call it, again?”

Both Kaleb and Amalthia said in union, a frittata.

The norn looked dumbfounded. “Oh. It tasted just like eggs.”

“That’s ‘cause frittatas are made with eggs,” Kaleb pointed out. Amalthia just nodded with a smiling closed-eyed grin.

“Oh. I see. That meal must have been truly magical because during the crash, our only container of poultry products was smashed against the rocks.”

Then it suddenly dawned on Kaleb. He turned around then looked his charr wife in her eyes then asked, “Ama?”

“Yes, Kal?”

“What did you use to make that frittata?”

She rolled her amber eyes, put a clawed index finger to her pursed lips then looked up for a moment before looking back at Kaleb. “Just what was on-hand. Why?”

“Eggs. Where did you get the eggs?” Kaleb demanded. The norn butted in. “Yes. Such a meal is deserving of a special name. Something memorable, something legendary!”

Amalthia scratched her chin for a moment before responding. “Something memorable... something legendary. Hmm. Let’s see -- I suppose the only thing one could possibly call it is...

...Pocket Raptor Surprise!”

#gw2 #gw2 fanfic #gw2 writing #guildwars 2 fanfic #guildwars 2 writing #the outliers #kaleb grimwald #amalthia steelblade #gw2 humor #gw2 fanfiction #tyriaslibrary

10 notes · View notes

zankivich · 6 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet: A College AU Chapter 5

This is nothing but smut. Honestly. Not a moment exists outside of the smutiness. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

“Because I want you to fuck me and I don’t really think we need pajamas for that.”

If he’d been drinking anything at that moment he surely would have done an incredible spit take. Instead the poor baby was left floundering against your sink like you asked him to sacrifice a small goat instead of make love to his very willing partner. He uncrossed his arms and then recrossed them opening his mouth to speak several times before anything ever came back.

“This is…. a surprising turn of events.”

You smiled a little to yourself. “Yea. We don’t have to of course. You’re free to object. I just thought it was important that you know I want it.”

“No! I mean no, yea. Sex. Definitely. That’s a thing we should do.”

You laughed closing the distance between the two of you in favor of wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just find you incredibly attractive.”

“Really?” He murmured peering down at you.

You nodded, more than willing to stroke his ego among other things, and ran your hands up his chest to toy with the buttons that were keeping you from what you wanted.

“Yea. Every time I open my door and you’re on the other side of it, I get wet all over again. I’m masturbating an aggressive amount even for me, and I’d much rather do you than do me.”

“Wow you don’t sugar coat for shit, aye?” He grinned. “How come you never said anything?”

“To be honest, I think I was scared of what it might mean once it happened. We’ve just been going with the flow and I like that about us. But I’m tired of flowing. Like flow into my pants….Too much?”

“Just enough I think.”

You giggled. “Again, healthy conversation is hot to me. We definitely don’t have to fuck tonight, I just thought you should know.”

“No I want to I just… I’m not prepared, tools wise.”

“What condoms?”

He nodded cheeks red again and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing in relief.

“Jesus Shawn I thought you really didn’t wanna have sex with me. I’ve got condoms for days. I give them out to first years who are too lazy to go to the health and rec center. I’ve got all kind of things. In fact I’ve probably got a big enough arsenal for a small sex shop.”

His head perked up noticeably at that. “You know… we’re gonna digest that some more later.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

He peered over at you eyes trailing up and down the length of your body just as you were doing the same.

One moment you were staring at each other intensely and the next you were slamming into each other with brutal force. His lips were still sweet from the candy he snuck on the drive home, and your tongue felt it necessary to find any hidden traces. Shawn, who varied between shy canadian puppy and confident man who almost certainly was kinky as fuck, had veered a hard right and couldn’t keep his hands off of you. His too big hands were grabbing at your ass pulling you close until your groins were grinding incessantly against each other. You felt the bulge of what he was packing on every upward thrust and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. If he didn’t get inside of you soon, you might just explode.

“Bed.” You moaned as he was biting at the skin of your neck. “Bed now.”

It was a mess because you refused to let each other go which meant bumping into every wall, surface, and edge on the way there. You finally broke into the bedroom where Shawn was trying to undo your jumpsuit without breaking your kiss and you were trying to get him out of those god forsaken jeans. You managed to fall to the bed with Shawn on top hovering above you like the devil he was being at the moment, just barely out of reach.

“Will you please get your fucking clothes off.” You grunted leaning back on your arms to watch the view.

He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before ultimately pulling it over his head. You took the liberty of working on his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He clumsily rolled off of you to pull them off before he was back and half naked pressing his body along the length of yours and pulling a pleasant sight from your lips.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He muttered thumbing at your bottom lip.

You smiled and bit at it playfully before sucking the digit into your mouth. The moan he gave was absolutely sinful and you couldn’t wait to have him make more.

The good thing about jumpsuits--except when it comes to having to use the bathroom--is that once you take them off you’re pretty well naked. So, when Shawn pulled the garment off you leaving you in nothing but the lacy black underwear you wore underneath you were left fully exposed to the hungry look he had in his eyes. A look that you knew instantly you had too.

“You mind if I eat you out?”

You sputtered at the question loving this fucking innocent act that wasn’t an act at all but just happened to be his personality.

“This fucking boyscout thing you got going on is only making me wetter. Yes. Please. Eat with flourish.”

He chuckled kissing you softly on the lips before beginning a downward climb to the lower part of your body. He moved your hands away from where they’d been acting as covers for your tits and honestly did a much better job at holding the flesh in his large palms. Shawn settled between your thighs kissing and nuzzling at them while his curls manged to tickle your stomach. It was all just so much to handle. When he touched your skin you swore you could feel every cell, every atom. It was as if your body was absorbing him in, and every swipe of his fingers was just another connection, another push towards fulfillment that only he could bring you.

He took one of his knuckles and ran it up and down your slit where the underwear was still barely covering you. Pressing in slightly you could hear how wet it sounded when he exposed you to the cool air of your apartment, and your body thrummed under his ministrations.

“You should know something before you get started.” You huffed hips involuntarily bucking against him.

“What’s that?” He asked eyes still very much on your vagina.

“It’s just that I’m a bit of squirter. Some people are super into that, some aren’t. But I can’t really control it, so I just wanna give you a heads up.”

The sight of Shawn raising his eyebrows at you from in between your legs was maybe the funniest thing you’d seen in years. And were it not for the fear of him finding it disgusting you probably would’ve laughed. Leave it to Shawn to constantly keep surprising you.

“I’ve only seen that in porn before… You really gonna squirt for me?”

His voice was husky and his lips were swollen from where you’d bit and sucked at them earlier and you just needed some stimulation to start happening!

“Probably. If you do it right.” You grinned. “It’s not as cinematic as they make it out to be. I usually have to put a towel down.”

“Oh I’ll fucking do it right, don’t you worry; no towel needed.”

Finally he reached for the ends of the thong you’d been wearing for far too long pulling it down your legs and pushing your thighs to fully expose yourself to him. He licked his lips before he went in and your heart threatened to spring from your chest.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

He’d dipped his tongue slowly between the folds going straight for your engorged clit and bumping it softly. There were soft, experimental flicks that had you arching your back in pleasure. And then out of nowhere he latched onto it with a vigor sucking your clit fully into his mouth and slipping a long, arched finger into your pussy. There was nothing soft about this. It was an assault and it had you clutching your sheets desperately in your hands in an attempt to calm down. But there was no calming down. He was bringing you to the edge quick and fast and in a hurry and the smug bastard was grinning around your vagina while he did it!

“This is ridiculous--ooh my god. Fuck don’t stop.” You begged.

He pumped his finger a couple of more times before adding a second and then he was quickly up to his knuckles pulling sounds from your hole that were disgraceful in at least five different countries. His fingers kept tapping and rubbing until he hit a spot inside you that had your hips coming clear off the bed.

“Not so fast babe. Let me get you there.”

He pressed his arm over your hips keeping you anchored to the bed meanwhile continuing that incessant tapping against the bundle of nerves that could end it all. You quickly covered your face fully aware at how embarrassing the sounds you were making were.

No one had ever gotten you there so quickly and yet here you were barely holding on by a thread.

“I’m fucking gonna cum. Shawn I’m-I’m gonna--shit!”

“Go ahead. Squirt for me.”

As if you needed fucking permission. One more lick at your clit and it was over for you juices gushing directly into his mouth as he ate you through the whole entire thing. His tongue stayed suction to your clit slurping everything you had to give with greed and selflessness. You yanked at his hair with reckless abandon, your whole entire body throbbing at the feeling of your orgasm. You stayed like that for a full minute fingers fully stuck in his hair with no way of how to unfold your body from its position.

When you did he slid his fingers from out of you dripping the leftover liquid onto your heated skin before he licked that away too. You collapsed back against the sheets mind coming up blank for words or thoughts on anything. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the first thing that came to mind was, which one of you was more flushed at the moment. But then, Shawn was straddling your body and kissing you deeply and you could taste yourself on his tongue and you knew that it wasn’t over, was far from over.

“You taste amazing.” He whispered kissing you again for equal measure. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

The nerve of this guy, honestly.

“Feel free to share something with me any time.” You murmured bumping his hardon with your thigh.

“Are you sure you're ready?" He mumbled somehow sweet and innocent despite having eaten you out seconds before.

"I mean a bitch could use a second, for sure.” You said loving the look on his face when he laughed.

“I’m kidding. I’m ready. Get in me. Please." You whispered.

He nodded reaching for one of the condoms you had so politely lade out on the nightstand. You tugged quickly at his boxer briefs loving the moment when his erection sprung out and tapped against your belly. He was swollen and red and leaking precum that would rival the wetness of his fingers from earlier. You wrapped your fist around it without thinking, without asking, and hummed when Shawn involuntarily groaned. He was long and thick and his hard on bumped into the jut of your hip everytime you pumped him.

“Please? Let me be in you.”

You nodded watching him tear at the condom wrapper with his teeth before pushing it down the length of his dick, He teased at your entrance for a while letting the juices from your previous orgasm slick him enough before he finally began to push in. Suddenly you were being filled and filled until his hips were touching yours and a satisfied moan was tearing through your lips. You only seemed to grow wetter when he was fully seated within you, making your body feel full and complete.

"Fuck. F--fuck that's good." You whined.

He nuzzled at your throat and kissed at the skin in such a way that had you aching and wrapping your legs around those hips of his.

"You okay?"

You nodded shakily biting at your lip.

"You're driving me crazy. I want you to move."

You clenched internally giving a breathy laugh when Shawn moaned. This seemed to spur him on enough and he was suddenly pulling out till just the head was left inside before pushing back in stronger than before. His palm grabbed at your ass for leverage and that was all she wrote. The gentle movement of his hips turned to deep, hungry snaps against your sex and every built up ounce of sexual tension came pouring out into the room, into the air.

"Holy shit! Shawn!" You cried. "Please."

"God, every part of you you feels so good." He mumbled.

It's like he was built for you. Every time he moved your body pulsed under his touch. Every second felt like it could be too much. He was reaching something inside of you no one had ever touched before. He hiked your knee up to your chest spreading you open wide and pushing in so deep your eyes crossed. It was fucking heaven. Every second of it.

You scratched your fingers through his scalp tugging at the sweaty strands. You couldn't keep yourself quiet to save your life and his moans were the only thing keeping you from shattering. You bit at his shoulder at one particularly deep thrust and the sound it brought out of him seemed to have the opposite effect.

"You're so good. It feels so fucking good."

He was grunting and swearing and making the hottest high pitched sounds in your ear. You could've gotten off on those sounds alone. He found a rhythm that was harsh and punishing, your skin slapping together loud and wet into the air. His hands had found your hips and were using them for leverage as he fucked you into the bed recklessly. Your body contorted around him pulling him closer externally and internally. You squeezed your muscles around him and his whole body jerked deeper against you until he was no longer pulling out but just grinding deeper and deeper into your pelvic bone. It was hitting you in just the right way, and apparently for Shawn as well as his moans began to grow louder and more broken with ever lunge. You reached down to feel the muscles of his ass with every push encouraging him to fuck you harder. He let out a growl into your ear lifted off of your body reaching for the base of his dick to hold off an orgasm of his own.

"I can't," he whimpered out of breath. "You're so fucking tight. I can't last."

He ran his fingers through his hair and his whole face was red and wet with sweat. It was so fucking hot.

"You wanna take a break?"

"No I want to make you fucking cum." He huffed irritated.

He reached between the two of you gathering some of the liquid that had spread everywhere and quickly began thumbing at your clit. Your muscles tensed as he brought you fast and hard towards climax. To make matters worse he wrapped his arm around your waist and begun shifting his hips in small increments until one of his thrusts sent your whole word spiraling.

"FUCK!"

"There. Is it right there?" He murmured breathlessly,referring to your g-spot.

Maybe you said yes, if you said anything at all. Your mind and soul were a little preoccupied with being fucked into oblivion. The bed was squeaking but who could hear it over you screaming. He leaned closer wrapping his arm around the top of your head and leaning in close so that his lips were by your ear.

“You’re perfect. You feel so fucking good.”

"I'm gonna cum." You whimpered.

"Fuck--yes. Cum for me. Babe please."

He thrust desperately into you keeping on that spot over and over until your whole body started to shake. Your orgasm tore through you just as Shawn was reaching a shuddering halt inside of you. You both let out your loudest cries bodies locked together in pleasure and sweat and release.

Mutually assured destruction had never felt so good.

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanic #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes au #Shawn Mendes smut #smut #shawn mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes college au #shawn mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fanfic #shawn mendes x you #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes series #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn #shawn peter raul mendes

405 notes · View notes

rivertellsstories · 5 years

Note

Katherine/Davey “I’m pregnant.”

Hello there, sorry it took so long! This fic starts kind of crack-y but I swear that it’ll get sweet later on. I’m not gonna lie, I found this a bit hard to write, since pregnancy is not on my mind. Anyway, this thing has a wordcount of 1361

David’s birthday is coming up and Katherine is the absolute best girlfriend ever, if she may say so herself. She’s also filthy rich and more than willing to spend a more than generous amount of money on books she knows he’ll love. The problem is, that she’s never learned how to wrap gifts. To her, it’s a mystical occurrence that can only be conducted by the highest of mankind. Or you know, Sarah Jacobs, her best friend and saviour in trying times. Because her father has a nonsensical ‘no visitors’ rule in their house, she takes the stack of books with her to school to wrap them there.

This leads her to the current situation, where her boyfriend is politely knocking on the door of the newspaper club’s office and her panicking about the books on the table in front of her. “One moment!” she calls out. In a panicked daze, she looks around the office, looking for a box or another large container. When she doesn’t immediately find one of those, she takes her teacher’s jacket off the hook, ties the books around her waist with a belt and puts the jacket over it. “Yeah, come in.”

David’s head peaks around the corner and he frowns in confusion. “What are you doing Kath?” She looks down on the bulging jacket, gets a sudden bout of inspiration and sighs dramatically. “I’m pregnant, dearest”, she whispers, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically and David’s confusion doesn’t disappear, but he comes over to her, presses a kiss on her head and laughs. “I’m sure you’ll be an amazing mother, all though I doubt that it’ll survive the solid phase of it’s life, since you can’t cook at all.”

“That’s where you come in, love”, she whispers and kisses him softly. For a moment, they stand there kissing each other and when Katherine turns a bit more, to press closer to her boyfriend, her book-belly hits him and she gets reminded of the situation she’s currently in. “I have to go”, she announces, clutching the concealed bundle of books. “I’ve got an uhhhh, doctor’s appointment”, she lies and swiftly leaves the room.

She runs through the school, trying to find Sarah, but bumps into Race instead. “Racer, good”, she says as she pulls the confused boy into the nearest classroom. As she starts taking the jacket of, Race covers his eyes and gasps dramatically. “Katherine, have you never heard of chastity?” Rolling her eyes, Katherine puts the stack of books on a nearby desk. “Help me hide these, please.”

“Katherine, you’ve got a locker to put that shit in. Is snorting book pages making you forget logic again?” Katherine ignores the jab for now, deciding to verbally stomp him into the ground later on. Now, she opens the door again to get to her locker, but she spots David in the hallway and curses. It makes Race look up and he gives her a questioning gaze. “What’s up Kath?”

“These are for David’s birthday and he can’t know about them, but he keeps showing up! I stuffed them under the jacket and told him I was pregnant.”

“I now understand why we call you the smartest person in our group, I really do”, Race deadpans and Katherine glares at him. “Okay here is the plan”, Race announces and takes the books and the jacket from Katherine. “I stole your baby. You should alarm the father.” With that, Racetrack runs off.

David looks up at the sprinting Race, but then Katherine beelines for her boyfriend. “David! Race stole the baby!” she pants as she tries to block his view and gain his attention. It works, as David scrunches his nose in confusion. “What?” he brings out and Katherine, who has seen Race disappear behind the corner shrugs. “Never mind, our baby will lead a good life, far away from the difficulties the two of us face on a daily basis. Our child is safe now.”

“O-okay?” David stammers in confusion and then the bell rings and she and her boyfriend part ways. David, the dutiful soul returns to his classroom, while Katherine runs off to meet his sister.

She meets Sarah and Racer in the club office and two other teens help her with wrapping the presents. “Hell yeah babyyyy”, Katherine exclaims when they are done and looks at the impenetrable bundle of scotch tape, that previously had been a stack of books. “I think this’ll do the job, thanks Saz, Racer.” She gives the two of them a blinding smile and winks at Sarah. “Now I can wrap your presents just as nicely when I get home.”

David has been summoned to the principal’s office and he has no clue as to why. Today has been weird enough already and he really does not need Joseph Pulitzer on top of it, no thank you. Dragging his feet, he enters the office after Hannah told him he could proceed. Awkwardly, he takes a seat in front of Pulitzer and waits for the man to turn around.

The man does exactly that, in a sudden and abrupt manner. “Is it true?” he asks, mouth a rigid line and his whole posture stiff. “You might want to be a bit more specific sir”, David states, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “About you and my daughter”, the man interrupts briskly and David blanches. He isn’t exactly prepared to tell his girlfriend’s father about their relationship, but the man would know sooner or later, right? “Yes sir”, he answers and before he can elaborate, Pulitzer explodes.

“What the fuck were you thinking, getting my daughter pregnant?” he yells and David tunes him out at that point. Ah, so this is how is life is going to be from now on. He will be known as teenage dad David, because his father’s girlfriends has never experienced humour in his life. An idea forms in his head and David knows that it’s a bad idea. A terrible one even. But Jack Kelly is his best friend and a terrible influence at that. “We’re buying a house next weekend. Thank you for sponsoring us, dear father in law”, he manages to say with a straight face and he nearly runs out of the room.

Eventually, all gets cleared up when Katherine decides to host David and Sarah’s birthday party, against her father’s wishes of 'no visitors in this house’. She gets a modest kiss from her boyfriend as a 'thank you’ and when she looks behind her, she can see her father glaring at him. Ah typical. Guess she should wait for a better kiss until she manages to get him somewhere alone.

Bonus:

They’ve been planning it for a while now, but Katherine can’t suppress her excitement and can barely wait for her husband to get home. There’s a thousand ways of telling him racing through her head, but as he enters their shared apartment, she can’t think of even one. “Good evening beautiful”, he whispers as he kisses her, softly, deeply and buries his nose in her hair. They stay like that for a while, pressed closely together, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s presence. Then David pulls back a little, kisses the tip of her nose and groans. “Who’s gonna make dinner tonight?”

She kisses his nose as well and his cheeks, eyelids, forehead. Everywhere she can reach, Katherine places tiny kisses on her husband’s face and he smiles in return. “You have to. It’d be a shame for me to cook in these hard and trying times”, she jokes with a twinkle in her eyes. Realisation dawns on his face, but she tells him nonetheless. “I’m pregnant.”

The kiss that follows, is a pure expression of desire. Their lips connect and reconnect countless times before David lets his forehead rest against hers. “Katherine, that’s wonderful”, he whispers and kisses her again.

Katherine thinks about the joy she’ll see on her friends’ faces when she tells them the news, about the bliss of searching names and clothes for their little one, about the delight choosing godparents for her child will bring and smiles. New doors are opening for her and her husband ans she’s sure that the experience is going to be wonderful.

#daverine #kavid #davey jacobs #katherine pulitzer #David jacobs #Katherine plumber #rivers stuff #request

10 notes · View notes

chezzkaa · 7 years

Text

Von, Pardon?

Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader & Jeremy Dooley x Reader Universe: Fake AH Crew (Cinders)

Summary: Jeremy’s attempts to secure a gallery setting for an art show sees you roped into being his wife, a wealthy and influential art investor - much to Ryan and your family’s amusement.

WC: 4788 [Master List]

Jeremy shuffles nervously in the doorway, eyes darting uncomfortably between you and Ryan’s lounging figure splayed across the faded grey couch, hair tumbling over the cream and maroon pillows to spill off the edge. Ray perches in the centre of the muted lilac rug covering the rich wooden floors, completely engulfed in Tilly as she pounces back and forth over his chest, swiping at his nose before bouncing away playfully.

Around you the world bustles without a care, large windows opening up like panels into a narrative; each seat offering you a new outlook. The ocean gently lapping at the crisp sand, the ice cream parlour with the jovial owner who’s love of sunshine yellow cardigans knew no bounds. But in your pent house you could stop and watch others tumbling through their stresses, safe and far away.

Jeremy struggles, a trembling hand running clumsily through his freshly dyed hair, finger tips still stained purple. Your lips pull away into a glittering beam, his tensions visibly easing at the sight.

“Of course I'll come to the show, is that even a real question? You’ve worked your ass off, there's no way I'd miss it.”

Ryan hauls himself into sitting, an equally warm and supportive smile curving across his strong features, “we'll all come.”

Ray's attention darts to the conversation, apprehension shifting in the scorching depths of his eyes, hand busy scratching Tilly's ear; “what’re you volunteering me for? Every time you do that I nearly die.”

“That was once time!” he defends, body rocking back while he shoots out a hand offence.

“Three times, actually,” you pat his knee in correction before tapping Ray with your foot; having to sink down in the matching bucket chair to reach.

“Jeremy's got art show tomorrow.” The man’s face relaxes, eyes drifting back to your cat as she tries to curl on his chest.

“Look at pictures and shit? I can do that, I'm a pro.”

“For the amount of time you spend glued to video games,” Ryan muses affectionately, eyes resting on Ray’s pursed lips and raised eyebrows, “I have no doubt.”

The sound of Jeremy clearing his throat anxiously catches your attention, cheeks growing pink as he rocks on the balls of his feet; incredibly out of place and caught between the kitchen and living space. “It’s a, err, it’s a black tie event; and I sorta kinda need a date.”

"Oh c’mon, lil J,” teases Ryan smugly, leaning back with his hands behind his head, “I can't believe it’s taken you this long to ask me out. But I'm sorry to say,” his face falls, holding out his left hand and wiggling his fingers, “the opportunity's 5 years too late. I'm happily married.”

“You bet your ass you are,” you warn, watching him shrink into the pillows with his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. The sight sends your heart fluttering, his devoting smile contagious.

“I'll be your date,” interjects Ray in between Tilly's fur; grinning up at Jeremy as he moves to stand beside another empty seat, bright purple and orange classing rudely in your living room. “I’ll do anything for free food.”

Jeremy lets off an uncomfortable and irritated hum, fingers drumming against the invitations he gripped in white knuckles. Pleadingly he looks to you, your ball of sunshine now a bundle of nerves.

“See here's the thing: I kinda sorta might've told the owner of the space I was married... To our beloved news anchor's female associate... who happens to be a famous art investor?”

“Oh Jeremy,” you groan as your head falls into your hands, Ryan's deep chuckles swamped by the loud cackles emanating from Ray.

“I had to Y/N,” he cries, “it looked good on the application and it's the only reason he's letting me use the space.” With a half hearted sigh you stand, accepting the thick printed invitation and peering down at Jeremy’s most professional scrawl.

“Oh you're kidding,” you mumble into the golden lettering “Beatrice? You fucking called me Beatrice?!”

“Beatrice Von Bisurart,” he squeaks quietly, collapsing into the empty seat and curling his chest to his knees, arms hanging uselessly by his side.

“Buys your art? Jeremy I taught you better than this.”

“I panicked, okay? It was all very stressful,” the man has to increase his volume, tears now rolling down Ryan’s cheeks as he grows pink from laughter, hunching against his knees to hold in his sides. “And it asked for a significant other and I just lost it and I’m sorry; please be my date?”

“‘Von’, Jeremy!” You smack the paper with wide eyes staring at him, as though you could force some sense into the situation, “where the fuck did you get ‘Von’?”

“It sounded cool, like you’re a vampire slayer or something; I don’t know!”

“You wanted people to think you’d married a vampire slaying art investor? Jeremy, how are we supposed to get matching rings for this shit by tomorrow?”

Recovering, Ryan grins, standing with creaking knees to lay a supportive hand on his battle buddy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

“You suck, Jeremy. I’m gonna have to find a fucking babysitter now,” you pout at the clashing monstrosity vibrating in the cream chair, small groans falling into his lap. Tossing the invitation onto the glass coffee table in defeat you glance to the sky streaked with paint as the sun sets, chuckling delicately.

“Okay, so Jeremy might suck,” Ryan admits, Jeremy letting out a deep, rattling sigh. “But nothing sucks more than being called Beatrice Von Bisurart.”

“Whatcha think of this one?” Jeremy asks, holding the ring to the flashlight's beam; glow dancing off the particles caught in the air. Ryan looks up from the display he was pilfering, joining Jeremy and staring critically at the piece through the smudged face paint. Eventually he shakes his head.

“Do you really think Von Bisurart would wear anything with less than a cluster fuck of diamonds?”

“Oh crap,” Jeremy groans in agreement, tossing the ring behind him; your fingers pinching it mid flight as you shuffle through the necklaces, “you're so right, Ryan. Von Bon is a classy bitch.”

“I dunno,” you counter, shining the light onto the ring as it shines brighter than the gold dusting your eyes, voice muffled through the bandana, “I think it's kinda nice.”

“My wife deserves more than nice,” Jeremy retaliates indignantly, Ryan nodding vigorously by his side. With a sweeping gesture Jeremy's eyes glaze over, a dreamy smile hanging from his lips, “she deserves the world.”

You're chuckling when returning to scavenge, tentatively stepping over the shattered glass sprinkling the carpet from your entrance, careful of the dangers the dark might house. Careering to the counter you rip out the draw beneath the register to reveal the products too expensive to display for the public; riches glittering in excitement as your eyes rake curiously over the sharp edges and pools of gems.

Rifling through, you're immediately drawn to the thick necklace choked with diamonds, jewels dripping to your collarbone and flush against your neck when you lift the bandana and press it to you skin. With an affectionate chuckle Ryan joins you; fingers brush the nape of your neck to sweep away stray hairs before taking the clasp and latching it, the weight heavy against the hollow of your throat.

“Oh, now that's nice,” he compliments with a hammering heart as you turn to face him; lost in the rainbows fracturing your eyes. “Beautiful.”

“Hey,” snaps Jeremy, his exaggerated frown appearing above your shoulder, “stop fraternizing with my wife, Ryan.”

“She was my wife first, Jeremy.”

“Well, this is awkward,” shuffles the younger man with a quirk of the lips, eyes drifting to the stacks of jewels you'd unearthed. With a start he lunges in to snatch a hefty ring, every inch littered with elaborate diamonds and shifting colours. Ryan's hand moves to your lower back, redirecting attention to Jeremy, the young man’s face excited as you offer him your hand to allow the incredibly loud fake wedding ring to slip neatly above the real.

“And this is perfect!”

In all the time you’d known Jeremy, he’d never been this nervous. His breath rattled with every vibration rocking through his body, hand’s either buried deep in his pockets or smoothing back his hair for the millionth time. You sigh, his anxieties lapping at your skin as you approach the gallery, lights glowing invitingly from the windows.

Though a relatively warm night, the breeze gnawed against your skin and through the tumbling royal purple skirts exploding from your waist, tracing the hems of your chest trapped tightly in a cantaloupe sweetheart neckline, arms encased in flattering sleeves but fingers exposed to the wind. Comfort came from the weighted necklace from last night, nestled in the hollows of your throat and emanating power.

Slipping your hand into his with a sense of familiarity and ease, your fingers give him a gentle and reassuring squeeze, his chestnut eyes frantically glancing between your smiling face and the fear throbbing around the final destination.

“You’ll be okay, J,” you comfort, clicking up the steps in your incredibly tall heels, “you’re an amazing artist. This is gonna be seamless, they’ll be nothing left on the walls.”

“I dunno,” he mumbles in reluctance, an invisible barrier stopping him just before the entrance. You turn to face him, hands moving to his shoulders, resting atop the floral patterns blooming with royal purple variants across his suit jacket.

“Listen to me, just breathe. You’re nervous now, but once we get through those doors you’re Benjamin Von Bisurart. A smooth talking, confident man with a stupid name, who I’m incredibly proud of.”

“You’re right,” he nods, letting you loop his arm intimately around your waist, bodies fitting together like they were fashioned with each other in mind.

“We’re all here to support you,” you continue, straightening his matching cantaloupe bowtie before resting your palm against the curve of his back. He takes a few shaky breaths, his grip tightening as he collects himself.

“Remember,” you murmur, directing him towards the large man at the entrance, his welcoming smile false and pained, “my offer to stab everyone still stands.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” he whispers while removing the invitations and handing them over, the man checking them before moving aside.

“You’re such a party pooper, Von Bisurart.”

“Von, pardon? Oh, oh!” he catches himself, passing the man and entering the bustling space, overwhelmed by the crowd muttering at his art in approval, “you mean me. Right, okay.”

Inside the stiflingly warm room packed with dull shades of grey bodies, all you see are erratic splashes of colour glued to the walls. Sharp tones slashing through cool comforts, grand canvases coated in complex patterns, sculptures etched with dramatic angles. Jeremy had left a part of himself in each piece, the expanse of his emotion lain out for critique.

You could pick out which artwork tied to the different points of his life, the darker, brooding works heavy and loaded with stress, loaded with Laura. Loaded with Gareth. Splayed out across bleach white walls and curving hallways, the pieces flowed like a journey. Bright colours moving with ease and the dark pain staggered, cluttered and overwhelming.

Littered throughout the winding rooms are the family that lived the paintings, each brush stroke cutting as sharp as the knife buried in their heart, faded smoke as cold as the gun with bullets whizzing with a splash of colour. Jack’s voice reaches you first, Jeremy redirecting your gaze to the powerful woman with fire for hair and flames for soul. Towering in her signature heels, her shape is draped in elegance and freckle clusters, grape fabric pooling to the floor in fountains, long shapely legs protruding from the slits.

Beside her stands Geoff, tall and proud, incredibly neat in peach slacks and a brilliant white button down, moustache meticulously twirled to follow the curves of his smile. Beneath the cuffs and collar of his dress shirt poke the stifled narrative, seeping into his fingers and tainting his knuckles. He seems content in holding Jack’s drink while she gestures wildly, scolding voice putting a narrow minded critic back in his place. At her words Jeremy smiles, excusing himself to join them after Jack motions with a gold adorned hand, his fingers burning as they leave your waist.

As he leaves, you catch sight of Lindsay and Michael, smartly dressed in matching black attire, streaks of tangerine orange and rich purple dancing through his tie and her sheer scarf. Chatting to a waiter Michael works his charm and talks exuberantly with his hands, drinks tray being emptied behind the server’s back by Lindsay, expertly balancing brimming flute glasses between her fingers. She nods to Michael, disappearing into the shadows as he redirects the servers attention by yelling ‘hey!’ after an invisible culprit, scampering away to hide with his wife and live his best life; duel wielding champagne glasses.

Gavin wastes no time in emerging from the door to the kitchen, clutching a tray loaded with elaborate canapés. Beneath the shimmering gold of his waistcoat glares an aubergine shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and loose around the collar, legs stretching with incredible length in pastel pumpkin trousers.

Tearing your eyes away from their laughter, you can’t help but notice people avoiding the anger and pain, instead congregating around the expansive paintings splotched with happy pastels in their dull tones. Stood in an abandoned hallway, Jon in a classic sherbet orange suit jacket stares up at the suffocating piece twirling with deep blues and heavy grey tones, colours found so easily in his eyes, a hand fiddling with the delicate lavender of his shirt.

Beside the man with wild hair is a familiar face from a lifetime ago. Clinging to your brother’s hand, a suit of orchid, apricot and sunshine yellow hides the inherent clumsiness of his person. His deep olive skin glows beneath the light, hazel eyes studying the piece before him, a hand musing through his messy brunet curls as he stares in wonder. Jon mirrors the expression, though understanding and empathy flows as an undertone.

“This is incredible,” breathes Ben as you approach, eyes tearing from the piece to greet you, the long forgotten fear sparking for a moment before he settles into an easy, lopsided smile.

“I’m glad you appreciate my husband’s work,” you tease, resting a comfortable hand on his shoulder, casting a glance to Jon, who beams brightly.

“He’s very talented,” he muses, letting go of Ben’s hand and pulling you into a hug, as warm as ever, “I’m so glad it’s all worked out for him.”

“He’s been so nervous,” you admit, attention drifting from the bright eyes of your family to the dark pain of one of your best friends, agony splatter on the canvas. “The gallery owner’s been trying to get in his ass all week, apparently.”

“Oh no,” sympathises Jon, lips flattening in concern, “Mr... err, oh god what’s his name? Ermm...” He snaps his fingers; face scrunching as he turns to look up to Ben for help, the man smiling down with patience and adoration.

“Mr Vermont,” he offers, Jon’s forehead resting against his shoulder with a groan, “we’ve still got to speak to him. He invited you personally, and you promised to interview him for your news segment.”

“Thank you,” your brother breathes in relief, “what would I do without you?”

“Look a lot less attractive,” he teases, pressing a gentle kiss into Jon’s wild hair, gentle chuckles resonating from their shoulders and dancing around your feet.

You’re smiling at Ben, overwhelmingly grateful for the role he’s played in your life and the lives of those you loved; knowing you couldn’t apologise enough for the years lost to anger and confusion. Still, the joy that had returned to Jon could only be attributed to him. His patience, understanding and loving adoration leading him to devote all he had to Jon’s recovery from the trauma of memory loss. You’d never be able to thank him for bringing your brother back from the brink, certain the downward spiral would have dragged him further into self destruction.

“There’d be less ice cream,” you joke, ears pricking at the sound of youthful, girlish giggles; “that’s for sure.”

“You’ve got a point,” Ben agrees, watching your eyes scan the room for the source of the joyful noises, “it’s not as though there’s 20 other ice cream parlours in Los Santos or anything.”

“Heaven forbid!” Jon gasps, eyebrows quirking as Ben laughs, rich and deep.

“Besides, you’re conveniently within walking distance of our apartments.” You chuckle, eyes coming to land on Ray, dressed head to toe in purple bar a bright orange tie, a red haired two year old doused in a starfish orange dress sparkling as bright as her amethyst shoes perched against his hip. As soon as he appeared Ray vanishes behind Trevor and Alfredo, the pair in matching mulberry and pink ginger pinstripe suits, talking animatedly to one another.

“We should probably let you go,” admits Ben, a sweeping motion catching the entire room, “Mrs. Von What’s-your-face must have some networking to do!” Your eyes narrow at the mischievous pop of his dimples, gold glittering in his eyes.

“Careful, Benji,” you warn with a teasing smile, “I made you, and it’ll be easy to break you.”

“Go on,” he challenges as Jon laughs, coaxing away his beaming boyfriend – who can’t help but trip over his own legs, “bring it on!”

“I’ll eat you out of ice cream, don’t you think I won’t!”

A sharp, insistent tugging on your skirts makes you turn, Jon and Ben dematerialising to explore the rest of the gallery. Stood beside you is a bright girl, her eyes achingly familiar, a deep blue ocean meeting the crisp white sand, light fracturing playfully. You smile, crouching to level with her, giggles tumbling from her lips as your face scrunches; taking her hands in yours.

“Georgina, what’re you doing running around without Daddy?”

The girl shrugs, lips sharing the shape of your own as she chews the bottom, “I lost him.”

“I don’t think you did,” you state knowingly, poking her button nose, “I think you ditched him.”

“No!” she exclaims joyfully, attempting to hide the smile splitting her pretty face, eyelashes long and fluttering.

“Georgie, did you abandon Daddy?”

“... Maybe.”

“Oh sweetie,” you chuckle, brushing back the tumbling golden curls cascading over her shoulders and straightening the amethyst dress that had begun to bunch around her waist, “you know Daddy can’t manage on his own.”

“She’s right,” comes a deep and affectionate chuckle, Ryan parting through the crowd to stand behind the girl, who shrieks in delight. “What would I do without my girls?”

“You’d die!” Georgie offers, skipping in place as you straighten up, laughing while greeting Ryan’s churning eyes and adoring expression. Stood with confidence, his grey, slim fitting jacket traces his curves and angles, papaya dress shirt tucking snug into wine slacks. Taking him in, you’re breathless, hair in similar curls to those of your daughter – if not a little darker – perching atop his head in an elegant bun with spiralling locks brushing the nape of his neck and resting against his jaw bone and shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur, having to shake out of the trace ensnaring you in his eyes, caught in the waves. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss that leaves your skin tingling and excited.

“Henry Lawrence.” He released your hand reluctantly, instead stroking Georgie’s hair. “Mrs. Von Bisurart, this is my eldest, Georgina.”

Your daughter waves, delighting in playing pretend and offering you a tiny hand similar to the way her father had. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss.”

You accept it, fingers curling against her warm palm, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Good job, Georgie,” Ryan breathes as he creaks to the ground, hands carefully lifting the small girl into his arms; a joyful smile sparkling in his eyes as she giggles. Brushing her blond hair from her face her blue eyes shine with the same light as her father’s, her dress crinkling as he supports her against his hip; flowers spilling with amethyst making up her skirt. “You’ll get your candy later.”

“Now,” she giggles, Ryan pressing his nose against hers, rocking back and forth.

“Oh no,” he smiles, “a deal’s a deal.” Georgie pouts, eyes moving to you as her eyebrows knit together.

“Mommy-”

“Ah ah aahh, you little sneak,” Ryan cuts off, looking proudly at his daughter’s triumphant expression, her hands out and eagerly awaiting her prize.

“I’m so proud.”

“She got that from you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against her forehead and pressing a noisy packet into her tiny hands, fingers clumsily ripping open the bag.

“I’m not even denying it,” you smile, reaching out a hand as Jeremy joins you, ruffling her blond curls and receiving another beautiful giggle in return, “I’m teaching her to take over the world.”

“Don’t you mean ‘take on’?”

“Oh no,” you deny the correction, smiling at Jeremy and slipping your hand into his own, Ryan beaming and bouncing your daughter; Georgie’s feet kicking with glee, “she’s going to rule the world.”

She beams, chest puffing out and face falling serious as Ryan rests his head against her own. “I’m gonna be a princess.”

“Oh really?” chuckles Jeremy, “and what will her ladyship Princess Georgina do?”

“Rule with an iron fist.”

‘“Ryan, don’t let her think dictatorship is a valuable form of governance!” you cast him a half hearted glare, the young girl cackling evilly along with Jeremy.

“Okay, yeah I taught her that. But she’ll be the cutest little dictator.”

“Mad King and Princess Georgina!” the small girl chants excitedly, Ryan swinging her in his arms and tossing her onto his shoulders; her tiny arms winding around his neck.

“That’s right, sweetie,” he smiles, “but don’t forget about your sister.”

“No,” she shakes her head in small jerks, “Corrie to the dungeons.”

Ryan draws in a dramatic gasp, peering up lovingly into her crystal blue eyes, “don’t imprison your knights! How’s she gonna defend our kingdom if she’s dead?”

“Oh,” Georgie considers this fact hard, face contorting in concentration before she sighs. “She’s no good dead.”

“That’s my girl, you’ve gotta be logical about these things. Let’s go find her and Uncle Ray.”

“Uncle Ray! He can go to the dungeons,” she squeals in delight, Ryan’s chuckling as he holds Georgie steady.

“It’ll probably be the nicest place he’s ever lived.”

“I’m a good princess.”

“The best,” agrees Ryan, the love in his eyes shifting to you and Jeremy, offering out his free hand. You take it, shaking firmly and settling back into the role you still had to pay. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Von Bisurart. Do you mind if I call you Bee?”

“Yes, I do Mr. Lawrence,” you grumble, Jeremy’s laughter warm against the exposed skin of your shoulder. Ryan’s eyes flash mischievously, their corners crinkling in amusement as Georgie’s feet swing playfully either side of his head.

“Bee it is,” Ryan smiles, shaking Jeremy’s hand next.

“Be good to her,” he warns warmly, motioning as you wiggling your fingers at your daughter, blowing her kisses and watching her attempt to catch them; pressing the final one clasped in her fist to Ryan’s forehead. “She’s a keeper.”

“She’s out of my league,” his sighs teasingly, watching as Ryan backs away with Georgie, her small hands grabbing at the air in a wave goodbye.

“Oh yeah she is.”

Then he’s disappearing into the crowd, Georgie’s blond curls towering above the milling guests, laughter accompanying Ryan’s joyful chuckles.

“We couldn’t find a babysitter,” you whisper to Jeremy, lips brushing against his neck as your children skip alongside Ryan and Ray; their laughter pealing through the room and weaving with the canvases.

“Understandable,” he manages, shaking himself as you pull away to beam at him beneath the watchful gaze of the patrons, his fingers gripping the fabric against your hip.

“I didn’t think their Uncle Jear Bear would mind,” you muse, the depths of your eyes shifting in the light, splashes of colour reflecting in thanks. Jeremy shrugs, a comedic smirk curving through his face before he’s interrupted by a gruff, reproachful voice.

“I didn’t realise you’d be inviting children into my Gallery, Mr. Von Bisurart.”

“Why wouldn’t children be welcome?” Your tone is harsh and belittling, anger pooling in your stomach. The man attached to the voice acknowledges your presence with wide eyes, taking in the cruelty deep beneath your vicious beauty. He doesn’t speak for a moment, his sallow face and sunken eyes dragging on as long as the silence until Jeremy wraps an arm more firmly around your waist.

“You must be Mrs. Von Bisurart,” he tried politely, but you brush his words aside; face hard and fierce.

“Why wouldn’t children be welcome?”

“Art galleries are for the prestigious, the meaning is wasted on children. All they do is kick and scream, it ruins the peace. I mean, this child and a man in a hideous purple suit were just playing on the floor!” he explains, caught off guard by your forwardness, casting a glance to Jeremy that told him to keep you in line. The same look Geoff must have experienced before Jack had lost her cool.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Mr..?”

“Vermont.”

“I don’t really care,” you spit cooly, enjoying the rejection flitting across his face. “I’ve met many a men like you, and I can tell you from experience, none of you deserve the spotlight you’ve directed to the self constructed pedestal you stand on.”

“Excuse me?” He splutters, Jeremy somehow finding the confidence to stand beside you.

“No one will want to invest in art with such unprofessionalism – which your husband seems talented in.”

Vermont visible flinches from your anger, Cheshire kept comfortably on her reins like she had for years, pacing in the ruts of pattern.

“It’s nothing personal,” Vermont growls, “your art just doesn’t fit the space.”

“It’s a good thing we won’t be coming back,” you snap, eyes like daggers. “You seem to have forgotten, Vermont, that I could ruin your career in the creative space within an instant. All it takes is one bad review from someone influential; and by god am I revered.”

He shakes, blubbering his apology when realising his career rested in your imaginative, art investor hands. An audience attunes to your scolding, gentle murmurs of agreement and fearful respect rippling through the crowd. Geoff’s yells of ‘hear, hear’, not going unappreciated.

“How dare you treat the talent keeping your business running so poorly. Without them, you’re nothing. A single one of his paintings will fetch more than you’re worth outside these walls, and that’s a professional’s perspective. It’s also important for you to know that you’re fucked.”

Beneath your glare he cowers, whispers of price ranges surrounding you, a young man tapping Jeremy on the shoulder to inquire about one of the larger pieces. All at once offers for purchase hurtle towards him, mind unable to juggle all the numbers as an impromptu auction breaks out. Ryan’s moves to stand beside you, arms filled with your daughters, Corrine tugging at your hair while Ray nods vigorously from your left.

Amidst the yelling and desperation to purchase Jeremy’s artwork and his excitement radiating against your back you bring Corrine into your arms, satisfied that the room was distracted while you prop the girl against your hip, hand holding her head against your chest.

At the sight Vermont’s eyes widen, hopes and dreams crashing as he realises the children he’d despised throughout the night were your own. Confusion and fear brims as he tries to understand whose work was really being housed in his gallery; and who he’d be left to deal with once everything was said and done. “Trust me; the Fakes don’t take too kindly to assholes like you.”

“J,” calls Ryan over his shoulder, the man looking to him with glee as your husband jabs a finger to the painting splattered with the colours of Ryan’s eyes, laced with Cheshire’s signature golden shimmer and ash black splotches twirling in the gleaming colourful depths of your own eyes, “we’re taking that one home!”

Yells of protest sound from the crowd, Ryan pressing a kiss to the top of Georgie’s head as Corrine cuddles into you, watching the chaos in bubbly delight.

“Sold,” yells Jeremy, hands in the air to hold back voices clambering over one another to be heard, “to the terrifying man with great hair.”

116 notes · View notes

fairyscribbles · 7 years

Text

VISIONS OF A WOLF - Taking mind off things (LUHAN, PT.6) [CHRONICLES OF THE WOLF SERIES] *NC-17*

[ Luhan | Visions of a Wolf ] \ taking mind off things

"Luhan...”

He almost flinched when he felt lips touch his cheek softly, a soft body pressing into his side. He'd been spacing out, trying to weed out the flashes of visions from reality. He'd been having far too many to keep up with lately, and it was starting to get confusing, harder to distinguish one from the other.

"God, you scared me," he muttered, his arm winding around your waist so he could lean over for a kiss to your mouth this time.

"Why are you in here?"

He looked up, just realizing he was just leaning against the wall in the kitchen. "I... don't know."

You sighed, features scrunching with worry. "Let me check you for injuries."

Luhan shook his head. There wouldn't be anything left at this point. He felt his body beginning to repair before they even made it home, and his injuries weren't nearly as severe as the others'. "Don't worry about me. You should help them."

"I've done what I could for them."

Oh. How long had he been spaced out?

"Sehunnie?" he asked, worried because the youngest had been overlooked at first, considering he was unmated and didn't have a woman cooing over him. Luhan sighed ruefully, trying not to remember the flashes of a woman he saw at Sehun's side in his visions - the young wolf's own caring healer...

"Yixing will get to him after Chanyeol," you explained, hands roaming his side gently. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He nodded, grabbing your hands to stop their traveling and he sighed, his head banging back against the counter he was leaning on.

"Come on, you're exhausted." You told him gently, taking one of his arms and wrapping it around your shoulders. He groaned in something like disagreement, the most possible reason behind it that he didn't want you to carry him, but you didn't listen, heaving up and pulling most of his weight with you.

"Let's go to bed. You need rest from all those visions." Luhan's eyes looked at you, wide in surprise.

"H-how did you?..."

"I would be a crappy mate if I didn't." You smiled at him softly, pulling him out of the kitchen.

"___ noona, let me help you." Baekhyun offered the second he saw you exiting the room.

You shook your head, but Baekhyun was already grabbing Luhan's other arm, bracing some of his weight and helping you manouver him up the stairs.

No one seemed to notice the three of you, but that just made it easier. You left Luhan's side only to open the bedroom door and let Baekhyun bring him the rest of the way to the bed. "Alright, here we go."

"Thank you, Baekhyunnie."

He gave you a tired grin. "Least I can do."

"You should get some rest too." You noted the tired bags under his eyes but said nothing. He was battling his own demons, that you could tell without any magical digging. "Get some strength back..."

He headed to the door with a half salute. "Will do, noona. You two rest up then."

You mimcked his mock-salute.

"Will do. Good night, Baekhyun."

"Night, noona. Night, Luhan hyung." Luhan mumbled a tired "good night, Baekhyunnie", his lips barely able to move, as he stayed right where he was deposited, in the middle of the bed, dirt-caked clothes still on with splatters of blood on them. You sighed, climbing up on the bed and unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off his legs.

"The guards will be looking for us..." you mumbled under your breath and Luhan whined.

"They...won't...cleared...mind..."

"What?"

Your hands smoothed under his shirt, easing it over his head while Luhan mumbled nonsensical things.

"Okay..." you said softly. "Here, Luhannie... I'm gonna wipe this off, okay?"

You shuffled around, getting a wet towel to wipe off the dirt and caked on blood stuck on his skin. You started with his face, wiping the blood off his cheeks and forehead with gentle strokes. He moaned softly, but his eyes remained closed.

"Luhan? You said something about minds?"

"Wiped them..." he whispered, his hand finding your leg.

"Oh... so that buys us a little bit of time, at least."

"Mm..."

You cleaned off his chest with a relieved sigh. "Okay, so we probably need to figure out what to do when they come knocking, hm?"

"Move...we need to..." his mutterings almost sounded desperate now, with his head shaking here and there and his whole body shuddering in exhaustion. You were growing concerned- he was exhausted to the point he couldn't stop the visions coming and that prevented him to sleep.

"Luhan, my love, you have to calm down." You whispered slowly, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"It's no use to look into it now. The pack is in no condition to move anyways, so let it go for now." When you felt his breathing calming, you moved to stand from the bed.

"No!" A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you down.

"Please, stay..."

You smiled. "Okay."

He scooted to make room beside him, arm already extended for you. With a sigh, you climbed in beside him, glad you were already in your bedclothes. Although it was hard not to focus on his naked state pressing up against you.

Your face was buried in his chest, his scent intoxicating to your nose. You couldn't help but to tighten your arms around him and take a longer drag of him.

Luhan's hands naturally flung around your waist, one of them moving down to cup your ass- one of the bad habits Luhan had when he slept. Usually, it was standable, but at the amount of naked skin revealed to you, it was hard to keep hands to.yourself.

You fidgeted in his hold, murmuring. Luhan cracked open one eye. "Hm?"

"C-can I maybe move? Or turn?"

Luhan groaned in protest, his grip on you tightening, hand and all. "Why?" It came out almost whiny.

"B-because..."

Oh man how were you supposed to say this? All of him is pressing on you and it's making you feel...that you'd like more than his exhausted body could manage?

"It...it doesn't matter, love. You should rest."

Luhan let out a raspy, exhausted chuckle. "I wish I could do something about it right now..."

"Wh-what?"

"You smell so good..." he murmured, his face burrowing into your neck. "So tempting..."

"Luhan..."

You weren't even sure what you meant to accomplish by calling his name anymore, but Luhan's low growl felt so nice against your own chest.

There was still strenght in his body, just enough to roll you over on your back and to crawl on top of you, lips littering kisses over your neck.

"I haven't done this in a while..." Luhan muttered quietly, his hands teasing up your sides.

"Luhan...you need rest...believe me..."

"My mate needs me. I would be a bad one if I ignored her needs."

You wanted to roll your eyes, but they just ended up slipping closed when his lips locked around a patch of skin on your neck, tongue teasing lightly before he gave a hard suck. You moaned, hands threading into his hair.

"Ignore them. They don't know any... ohh... better..."

You felt a smile against your skin, and you would've smacked him if he wasn't doing such sinful things to you.

Not in the strenght to fight him anymore, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him up to kiss his lips, urgent and heated. You haven't been with your mate for a long time, too long for you to stop this. You wanted this, you would be a liar if you said otherwise.

"Luhan..." you panted his name, breaking the kiss when you felt him grind into you.

He growled in response, his hands eager as they slid under your nightshirt and cupped your bare breasts.

"My mate..."

Your gasp was short-lived when Luhan pulled the piece of cloth off you, leaving you bare as he was, subjected to his hungry gaze.

"I missed this." Luhan growled, swooping down to envelop a nipple in his mouth, apparently highly envigorated in the upcoming promise of mating.

Your bit back a moan, chest arching up closer to his mouth.

Luhan hummed his approval, his hands slipping down to the last slip of material that kept you from being skin-to-skin. His claws made you shiver as they scraped over your hipbones before tearing through the soft cotton of your panties.

Your gasp was lost behind his groan, Luhan's mouth shifting from one nipple to the other as his hips settled naturally into the cradle of yours.

Gladly, you parted your legs for him, one of them wrapping around his waist, opening yourself up to him some more. Luhan's body was wrecked by a growl, this time his thrust was with more purpose as his cock slid between your lips, bumping against your clit. He leaned back just far enough for his hand to slide lower, over your core and push one finger into you. Even this kind of stretch felt mildly uncomfortable, showing how much time has passed since you've done this.

You whimpered as his finger began moving with slow, controlled thrusts until he could feel the slide ease. Luhan groaned his appreciation, shifting to push two fingers into your body.

Burying your face into his shoulder, you planted your lips on his skin with a moan.

"You're doing good, baby..." he praised you with a rumble, giving you one last kiss before his lips moved downwards, joining his fingers.

Oh god.

Your legs came up, your hand brushing through the blonde locks to clench them between your fingers. Your mouth fell open. "Luhan..."

"Shh..." you heard him chuckle breathlessly, before his tongue dove in, stroking your clit with earnest lick. Your head fell back against the pillows and you had to cover your mouth to muffle the wanton moan that ripped through your. Fuelled by your reactions, you felt your mate close his lips around the budded bundle of nerves and sucking, making you see white.

"Ohh god..." you breathed behind your hand.

Luhan groaned his ascent, his hand continuing their slow movements, his fingers pushing deeper while his tongue danced senseless patterns over your swollen clit. Your legs felt like jelly, falling on either side of his head weakly while you tried hard to control the noises building in your chest.

They only increased, along with the pressure in your abdomen, until you were ready to explode. Your breathing shallowed and your mouth opened in a soundless cry as your back arched, the tell-tale sign of your orgasm bubbling up.

"Are you coming?" Luhan asked you, his question muffled by the fact his face was still buried between your legs.

You writhed and moaned, and Luhan took that as a yes, his tongue not letting up. He might have continued speaking had his mouth not been otherwise occupied with driving you nuts. You bowed off the bed when his fingers crooked inside you. White exploded behind your eyes, and there was no smothering your cry of release.

Luhan continued his ministrations on you throughout your climax, milking you to the last bits of your orgasm until you slumped against the bed with a last breathless moan. You mate was slithering up your body to claim your lips for his. You mewled softly when you felt yourself on his tongue.

"Better?" He asked you softly, a smile adorning his face.

You shook your head, letting your hand snake down between your bodies to stroke him, once, twice, until he rewarded you with a loud growl. His face buried into your neck.

"But you're not quite strong enough for it right now..." So you pushed at his shoulders and eased him to his back, straddling him with a small smile. "Lie back, babe..."

Luhan's eyes flashed red. "God, when did you get so aggressive?"

You laughed softly. "I don't want you to over-exert yourself, but we both know this need isn't gonna go away."

Luhan rumbled his agreement, his wandering hands slipping up your sides, then down your back.

You reached out for him and after two small strokes, you sunk down on his cock, groaning when you felt him going deep in you. Luhan's hands on your hips guided you softly, his grip on you appreciative until he couldn't go any further. When you felt him inside you fully, your back arched with a moan.

"___..." you heard your mate growling your name and you looked down at the angelic man with blood red eyes and fangs curled over his lower lip. You smiled, leaning down and kissing his jaw.

"I know, my love. I know..."

Your hands braced on his shoulders, and your legs were tense as you lifted your body from his, sliding up the length of his cock until only the tip was left barely inside you. Luhan's red eyes were drawn down, to where your bodies met, his fangs piercing his bottom lip with his snarl.

He ran a hand over the small of your back, and with his light urging, you sank back down at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your breath left you in a moan you tried to smother in his shoulder before doing it again. This time faster, with more force exerted by the glide of Luhan's fingers. You moved up and slid back down, moving yourself on him with breathless little mewls.

Luhan's hands were quick to encourage you. Faster. They were landing a little more roughly on your ass, the small smack undeniable until you were bouncing frantically on him, nails finding purchase on the bulged muscles of his shoulders.

You felt him brace on the bed, and before you knew it, he was thrusting up into you each time you sunk down, penetrating you deeper and bringing you both faster to the edge. You felt pleasure boiling up inside you again, the little electric sparks it left in your nerves intoxicating, and you swallowed your moan by kissing your mate.

Luhan's hands got rougher, and your vision was blurring from the sensations, your legs weakening. But you couldn't stop. You chased your release, Luhan's mouth smothering your moans as his movements upwards made stars burst behind your eyes.

"Oh God, Luhan..." you murmured against his lips.

"I know, baby," he growled. "Will you come for me?"

"Yes...oh god, yes..." your moans were becoming slightly desperate, as your movements quickened, slammimg down on him faster when you felt the pleasure in the pit of your tummy fall through.

"Good. Come for me, then. Come for your mate." Luhan snarled into your ear, one of his hands sliding around your hips, while the other craddled your neck, tilting it to the side before licking up a small stripe.

Oh god, here comes your favorite part.

Luhan's eyes were a rich red, his fangs long and dangerous as he reared his head back. You couldn't hold back the loud moan when his fangs pierced your skin at the same time his hips gave a particularly rough thrust up.

You came almost violently, your muscles numb and tingling before your nerve endings came firing back with a rush of pleasure.

Luhan's fangs were still embedded in your flesh, his cock still moving inside you, his growl of possessiveness rolling through your body as you squeezed and milked him for his own orgasm.

It came in a matter of moments, with the garbled mix of a snarl and a moan at the same time, when Luhan slammed your hips down against his, burying himself as deep in as he could go, before his whole body strung up in his own climax. You mewled at the feeling of him filling you up, warmth spreading over your already hot body and you slumped down against your mate, breathing heavily when you felt his fangs leave your skin. You smiled at the first nurturing lick of his tongue against the wound.

"Better?" You asked him and Luhan chuckled.

"Much better..." you murmured, sighing when his laving licks over the bite wounds continued.

"Good..." he said, the smile apparent in his voice. "Then I've done my job right."

You mewled in agreement, slowly slipping off him and settling into his side for comfort.

"You did. My mate."

You nuzzled his neck, sighing in contentment. "I love you~"

"I love you," he said, kissing your forehead gently.

The two of you were just lying there, catching your breaths and murmuring sweet things to each other, when someone - it sounded like Jongdae - hollered.

"-TOO DRAINED TO FUCK LIKE WILD ANIMALS!"

"THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT, TOO!"

That sounded like Baekhyun, and you buried your face into Luhan's chest with a groan. "I... we weren't that loud, were we?"

Luhan chuckled. "Ahh, don't worry, baby. We try, but most times, we've learned to ignore these things anyway."

You muttered in complaint, but Luhan just laughed again and kissed your cheek.

"Good night, Jongdae!" Luhan yelled out, laughing when he heard your yelp of embarrassment and Jongdae's chuckling reply.

"Your pack is impossible." You muttered under your breath, settling over Luhan and trying to catch sleep a better option than to tease your mate over it.

"You love them all the same." Luhan countered, kissing the crown of your head gently.

"I guess I do...good night, my love..."

#luhan #luhan story #luhan wolf story #luhan werewolf story #exo #exo story #exo werewolf story #werewolf au #exo wolf story #series: Chronicles of the Wolf #smut #exo smut #luhan smut

243 notes · View notes

handle-with--care · 3 years

Text

Tris && Talon || The Great Hall

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He has his cauldron set up on the table, simmering as he stirs it slowly, half a dozen bottles of ingredients and the bare bones of his potions essay laid out next to him; and when he's joined by another person, he looks up at smiles at the familiar face.

You can sit. I promise there's no risk of anything exploding.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He grins down at Tris and his gently simmering cauldron, sliding into the seat beside him.

I'm holding you to that. It would be a terrible shame if anything happened to this Arithmancy homework.

He grabs a small sheaf of parchment and his quill - a plain, black feather, though it is slightly iridescent in the right light - and ink from his messenger bag, laying them down on the table beside his friend.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Oh don't tempt me, Firadel. I'll remember how jealous I am of you and your aptitude for Arithmancy and start going out of my way to ruin my potion on purpose. I could even make it caustic.

He regards his array of ingredients a little doubtfully, before glancing back over at Talon.

Probably. I could definitely make it smell really awful.

He drops a handful of pale blue powder into the cauldron; but the smell remains inoffensive, and he starts to stir it again.

It looks like you continue to survive me dragging you out to the woods with me. Maybe I'll have to rope you into with coming with me again the next time I go plant hunting. I'll make a Herbologist of you yet.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

His grin widens as Tris threatens the life of his homework, even as he mocks a shocked gasp, and he leans protectively over the messily scribbled numbers and figures.

You wound me, Karenin. You and your callous nature, threatening my innocent homework. You wound me.

He watches as Tris adds the powder, knowing full well the smell thankfully won't get any worse.

I like our little excursions to the woods. Maybe I'm already a great herbologist and I'm just pretending to still be shit at it so I can keep tagging along.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He bites back a laugh, and jostles Talon's shoulder with his gently

Oh, well if you're wounded then you and your homework have my apologies.

He scribbles down a couple more notes, adds a couple more things into the cauldron; and then glances over at Talon, smile spreading across his face.

So you're saying if I tell you that you can tag along regardless of how well you're doing in Herbology, you'll suddenly be a lot more helpful and I can stop worrying you're going to grab a death cap and accidentally poison yourself. That's what I'm hearing.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

I accept your apologies, thanks.

He returns the light bumping of the shoulder, looking almost insufferably proud of himself, as he adds a few notes to his own homework.

Hm? Is that so?

The rogueish grin on his face softens, just a little, into something more genuine.

Well. I mean. That makes me feel better, either way. But, alas, I will just have to keep bringing nothing but my charm and good looks on our excursions, because I am still dogshit at Herbology and still can hardly tell a wild garlic plant from a daisy.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

The charm and the good looks do make it a lot easier to forgive your being so abysmal at Herbology, it's true.

He punctuates the teasing with a grin; and then his own expression turns into something softer, and he regards Talon curiously

Are you going home for the holidays, or will I be able to keep borrowing you for wilderness excursions over Christmas?

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He snorts out a laugh, giving Tris another playful shove; but when Tris mentions going home for the holidays he goes very still and very quiet, like a bird frozen before flight, for just a second, before it seems to pass and he shakes his head.

I ... no. No, I'm not going home.

Well, he's not if he can help it, anyway.

So, yeah, if you're staying, more fun in the woods for us, eh?

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He catches the way Talon freezes, and hesitates for a moment before reaching to touch him, wrapping fingers gently around one of his wrists and squeezing in attempted comfort.

Well, I won't pretend not to be pleased about that. I alternate my winter breaks between my godmother and my aunt, and this year is Cecelia's, so even if she wasn't somewhere in South America right now we wouldn't be celebrating Christmas.

He hums, and for a moment rests a decent amount of his weight against Talon's shoulder, trying to ground him the way having Artemis in his arms does for Tris on his bad days.

Fun in the woods in the snow, at that. Besides, when classes stop for the holidays we can even head down into one of the villages.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He almost - almost - startles when Tris' fingers close around his wrist, letting out a brief, sharp exhale through his nose; but Tris' hands are warm and gentle, and he allows himself to relax into the touch.

Damn, I wouldn't mind being in South America over the winter. But, I suppose I'll settle for staying here.

He glances sidelong at Tris, a smirk on his face that still just misses his eyes, before Tris settles against him, a solid, reassuring weight; and Talon feels a little of the tension fall from him, his shoulders relaxing where they'd been locked tight.

Wait, fuck, never mind, I forgot about snow. Yep, I'm for sure staying here. Besides, I bet South America doesn't have as good Firewhiskey as they do down in the villages, so ...

And South America wouldn't have Tris, either, and that just wouldn't do at all.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He grins back at him, a little relieved, as Talon starts to relax again.

I wouldn't be too jealous. She'll be spending most of her time hiking through jungle; fun as it is to start, the humidity and the hard work don't make for a particularly relaxing holiday.

His grin widens, creasing the corners of his eyes.

No firewhiskey, and none of that really good hot chocolate they start making in the kitchens once half the student body has gone home. Freythorn is definitely the best place to be.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He ducks his head as Tris grins back at him, hoping his long hair hides the blush creeping into his cheeks.

Yeah, y'know, you're right. Sounds like a lot of effort just to be warm over winter.

His eyebrows raise when Tris mentions the hot chocolate.

Wait, you guys have been having secret hot chocolate? I should've stayed over the holidays last year, goddamnit. Gonna have to try some of that this year.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He volunteers more information about Cecelia readily, latching onto the topic as a safe one that'd keep Talon present.

Last year it was Siberia; I got a bunch of photographs from the other people on her research team of her wrapped up in like, six scarves. She looked like a marshmallow.

He laughs softly at Talon's indignance, adopting a smug smile

Mmm, the perks of being an overachiever and staying at school to study. It's an Arietal perk too, I think, since those of us who stick around during the holidays tend to spend all our time in the kitchens, but I don't mind sharing it. In the spirit of inter-house unity, and all that.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He laughs again at the idea, briefly imagining Tris bundled up like a marshmallow and feeling a flood of fondness.

God, I can imagine. What is it they were researching up there? I don't mind the cold so much, but if you gave me the choice I'd probably still take South America.

He fake-huffs as Tris brags about the hot chocolate, crossing his arms indignantly.

Mmm, yeah, now you've told me you kinda have no choice but to share. Can't dangle that in front of me and then keep it all to yourself, I don't think I'd ever forgive you.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Tris answers eagerly, more than happy to talk about the woman who raised him.

Cecelia's an expert in Ancient Runes; has written a couple of books, in fact. She's almost always off somewhere in the wild tracking down ruins, recording what she finds and making sure it's all safe and protected from any unsuspecting Narcana who might wander through a curse if they get curious. I used to travel with her, when I was a kid, really loved most of it; but I don't think running back and forth across the globe is what I want to do with my whole life.

Tris props his chin in one hand and smiles back at Talon.

What, never? Over a rescinded offer of hot chocolate? Ouch. I guess I have to share, then. I can't imagine having you mad at me.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon listens with genuine fascination as Tris explains Cecelia's work, leaning forward on his elbows, his homework long forgotten.

Oh, shit, that's ... really cool, actually. You guys must've seen a lot, travelling so much.

He cocks his head a little when Tris mentions it's not something he wants to do forever, surprised.

Huh, really? Not someone with itchy feet? I get that. I'd love to try exploring some, after Freythorn, but ... maybe not always. Would have to settle eventually, I think.

He smirks, reaching out to gently ruffle Tris' hair.

Mhm. My feelings are fragile and not to be tampered with, don'tcha know. You'll definitely have to share.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

His smile softens with fondness, and for a moment his gaze is distant, focused inward as he thinks about Cecelia.

She's the most interesting person I know, and the only thing resembling a parent I've known in fifteen years. I was hard work, to start, but she got through it.

He comes back to the present, snapping out of his introspection, and goes pink with embarrassment, before smiling sheepishly at Talon.

But yes. Yeah. Never a dull moment.

He chews on the inside of his lip and shrugs

Cecelia is my home, has been my home for almost as long as I can remember, but I'd love something...static. Fixed. I half think of it as something I've picked up off Artemis; she's most comfortable in a place that smells like her, somewhere familiar. That's...that's what I want. Long term.

Tris leans into the touch a little, like a cat, can't help himself, but immediately goes pink across his cheeks when he realises what he's doing, and ducks his head.

Well, I suppose I can do that for you. For the sake of your oh so delicate feelings.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

He watches Tris steadily as he speaks, seeing clearly the fondness he has for his guardian.

She sounds awesome. The more you tell me about her the more I want to meet her, honestly. But ... yeah, I get that.

He fidgets a little in his seat, glancing up to one of the windows.

I've ... never really known a place I could call home, exactly. I'd like to, someday.

He pauses a moment, then grins, looking back at Tris.

A home with all of the hot chocolate and Firewhiskey, and a bunch of cats, and a spare bed so you could stay whenever you wanted. ... If you wanted.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Well, she might turn up unexpectedly and demand I trek down to have lunch with her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I was to drag you along with me.

He almost reaches for Talon again, but instead he settles more firmly against Talon's side, and with a tap of his wand against his cauldron sets his finished potion to start decanting into the glass vials lined up beside it. The offer has him going bright red and flustered even as he stares back at Talon.

I- yeah! Yes, of-of course I want...when- yeah. Absolutely.

He feels like an idiot, blushing and tripping over his words, and he ducks his head, embarrassed; but not before a warm smile spreads across his face.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Oh, fuck yeah. Lunch and getting to meet the famous Cecelia? That'd be the best.

Warmth floods Talon's chest as Tris settles in closer to him, and he vaguely considers getting back to his Arithmancy work, but then Tris stutters and stumbles and blushes and smiles bright, and he decides pretty firmly he does not care about numbers at all right now. Future Talon can deal with that. He shifts ever so slightly, just enough to close any remaining space between them, and lets a soft, genuine smile of his own bloom across his face.

Well, good, because I won't be dishing out Firewhiskey and hot chocolate to just anyone who swings by, hm?

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

She'll be happy to have a captive audience to her stories. I've heard all the really good ones, including the real, accurate versions from the other researchers who were with her.

He can easily imagine Cecelia and Talon getting on famously, and it conjures a smile across his face; but what has him really grinning is imagining him meeting Yanli, if Cecelia decides to bring her mother with her to visit. He doesn't know quite how Talon would react to five feet of overprotective Chinese adopted grandmother, but he's reasonably sure it would be extremely funny. He gets a hold of himself enough to respond to Talon's words, clawing his way back to teasing instead of a flustered mess.

Well if I get special privileges then I'll have to visit all the time.

His smile softens, something a little more honest than he intended creeping into his voice.

You'll get sick and tired of me, Talon.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Ha, I can imagine. I bet there's some wild stuff in there.

He, too, enjoys the thought of actually putting a face to the name of someone Tris speaks so highly of.

I bet she has some amazing stories about you.

His teasing tone drops, though, at the last thing Tris says, and he figures it's his turn to offer a little comfort, his touch feather-light on the back of Tris' wrist - not quite brave enough to take hold, but letting his fingertips settle there.

Sick and tired of you? Impossible. Besides, who else is gonna keep me from planting death-caps in the yard?

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Tris winces at the mention of childhood stories

Oh yes. She's overflowing with stories about the trials of taking care of a grumpy thirteen year old me while wading through thick Chinese jungle.

He can already see her in his mind, getting ready to relay her favourite story, the one featuring one of her more distractingly pretty fellow researchers and the crisis thirteen year old Tris had had over his first real crush on someone; and maybe, actually, Talon and Cecelia should never meet. Maybe for the sake of Tris' sanity they should stay far, far away from each other. The touch has his smile becoming a little more real, and he let's out a breath; before widening his eyes in mock horror

You're planning to keep a garden? Shit. I suppose I have no choice. You might actually die if you're left to your own devices with plants.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon doesn't miss the brief wince, and his grin widens in response.

Oh, perfect. I bet you were an absolute delight. That's one hundred percent the first thing I'm going to ask her about.

He searches Tris' face a moment, and sees the grimace become a more genuine smile - and lets that embolden him a little, gently closing his fingers around Tris' wrist, laughing softly as Tris teases him.

Mhm, exactly. You'll just have to come over a bunch, make sure I'm not actively being strangled by vines because I thought they were a nice ivy, or something.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He rolls his eyes, and sticks his tongue out at Talon.

I was awful even before I started talking again. Classic example of a teenager.

He pulls a face at him at the second part, before laughing under his breath. They can definitely never meet. Definitely. The grip makes Tris relax more, and he lets out noise of mock distress

Please never touch any plants that move of their own volition. Especially not vines. I do not want to see you devoured by a plant

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon returns the gesture, his grin all mischief, but then cocks his head a little, locking that nugget about Tris away to maybe ask about later, when the time feels more right.

Uh-huh. I was a fuckin' bastard of a teen too, don't worry.

His thumb traces idle circles over the ridge of Tris' wrist, almost without thinking.

All the more reason for you to visit all the time. To babysit. Because I'm sure that's been your dream since you were a bastard teen, to one day babysit a dumb fuck who keeps almost getting eaten by vines.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Tris huffs, laughs softly; and turns his wrist in Talon's grip, just enough for his fingertips to brush Talon's palm.

He is, he can admit to himself, too much of a coward to actually hold Talon's hand, but the step itself feels significant regardless.

Again, the honesty comes pouring out without his intention, but it's less sad than previous.

Doesn't sound so bad to me, when you put it that way. I suppose it depends on the dumb fuck in question, and how fond I am of them.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon goes very, very still as Tris' fingertips brush up against his hand, the laughter dying from his lips before it really has a chance at life; and his gaze flicks up to Tris' face, looking for all the world like a rabbit caught in headlights. He swallows, not sure he remembers how to breathe, suddenly.

Oh.

It's more an exhale than a word; but the briefest flicker of a smile, honest and almost surprisingly sweet, tugs at the corners of Talon's mouth, and he slowly slides his fingers into the spaces between Tris', his hold feather-light to allow Tris room to pull away, in case he might have misread something. He opens his mouth to speak, to make a joke and break the tension, but decides instead just to let the moment sit, something bright and hopeful in his eyes as he carefully watches Tris for any sign of discomfort.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

There's...probably very little else that could make every thought in Tris head come to a screeching halt quite the way Talon holding his hand does; and he stares back at him, something surprised and unspeakably soft pulling at the corners of his eyes.

After a moment, he closes his fingers around the back of Talon's hand in return, and squeezes very gently before letting out a breath, and smiling back at him, helpless to how the expression splits his face and has him nearly shutting his eyes all the way.

Oh.

He echoes, and runs his thumb over the side of Talon's hand.

Hey. Does this mean you'll let me copy your Arithmancy homework?

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon's breath catches as Tris' hand closes around his, his eyes going a little wide for a second; but then it all spills out of him in a rush of laughter when Tris asks about the Arithmancy homework, and he ducks his head to let his long hair hide his equally wide, bright smile, and the blush that spills into his cheeks.

Fuckin' - of course you can, you fuckin' dork.

He peeks up at Tris once more, almost shyly, before returning the gentle squeeze of his hand.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Oh I'm the dork, huh?

He teases, a little giddy at making Talon go that excellent shade of pink.

It becomes a little more tricky to clear up his potions homework with only the one hand, but like hell is Tris letting go of Talon's hand until he really has to, so he deposits his vials decanted potion and the bottles of ingredients into the now empty cauldron one handed, along with the scroll of notes for his essay; and then turns back to face Talon properly.

So um. I mean. I'm going to the Gala with Esma. Most- mostly to stop him from trying to fight anyone more than six inches taller than him, really, but also because when he's not threatening to hex people he's actually a lot of fun.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Yep. You sure are.

He watches with fondness as Tris clears up without letting go of his hand, and goes to ask if Tris, like, maybe needs both hands - but he, too, is kind of glad Tris isn't letting go, and so decides to keep his mouth shut, for now. He nods, though, when Tris tells him he's going to the Gala with Esma, and smiles a little sheepishly.

Oh, yeah, no worries. I already, uh, asked Cassius as well, so. No worries there. Just as friends, obviously, and mostly because Cass is sweet and will fully come and raid the buffet table with me.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

He smiles at the mental image of Talon and Cass raiding the buffet table, and hums in understanding; before deciding to be brave.

Well I. That is, I thought maybe, if you wanted to practice for the dancing part of the evening, we could practice together? I've had some lessons. I don't have any remarkable skill at raiding buffet tables, but I. The other stuff. I could help with that, if you wanted.

Talon & Icarus | Ren

Talon quirks a brow at Tris' offer, a playful spark in his eye.

Y'know, I like the sound of that. God knows I need the practice, or poor Cass is gonna have sore feet.

Tris & Syx || Caitlin 🦊

Well then for the sake of my fellow Arietal I'm going to have to insist we practice at least once before the Gala.

#convo #Talon #otp: your edges fit mine #just two dudes chilling in the great hall #zero feet apart bc they're GAY

0 notes