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#i need to get some other interests i think
peachdeluxe · 1 day
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A lot of you on here feel waaay too comfortable admitting that you don't and refuse to listen to rap music, and I'm not loving the incredibly reductive takes on rap because the kendrick/drake beef has it on some of yall's radar for the first time in your life.
I'm not going to sugar coat it-- for americans especially, if you consider music a significant interest of yours but still feel the need to search for acceptable reasons to keep yourself ignorant of black music, or think of rap as a monolith of hate and violence and not equally as diverse as any other genre, or can only name nonblack rappers… you should be embarrassed of that. And your embarrassment should not keep you from being active about exposing yourself to unfamiliar art and broadening what you listen to.
'I don't understand what they're saying/they rap too quickly' I'm surprised by how much I keep seeing this-- speed is not a stylistic trademark of most rap music, & clearer diction as a performer is much more necessary in rap than other genres?? Statistically rap has a lower bpm (here's an example of one person's study) average than other genres. (of course these aren't all-encompassing, but you can look into this yourself using sites like bpmdatabase.com.) Do you really feel overwhelmed by speed listening to Kendrick or Biggie or Nas or 2Pac, or have you never actually listened to their songs?
'I have to look up the lyrics'-- so what? is it a bad thing to take an extra few seconds to engage with an artist's work? If you listen to lyrical music, do you care when it's the artists you listen to? Why does the thoughtful art consumption everyone talks about not also apply to black art?
'there is too much violence and misogyny and commercialism' this is not unique to rap, or true of all rap music. Artists exist that talk about other things, the way they exist in all genres. There is an entire wikipedia page listing alternative hip hop musicians and rappers if you consider seeking it out too much labor. Click one!
'i find it unrelatable'-- who cares? Being unable to engage with art you don't find wholly relatable is a deeply childish and self centered way to exist. You get on here reblogging feel good navel-gazey posts about the shared human experience and caring for one another, but a rapper talking about living with violence or poverty is stretching the limits of what you can imagine or empathize with too much for you to care about it? You don't find that embarrassing to admit to?
You don't have to love rap, you don't have to incorporate it into what you listen to every day, but a lot of you need to be aware you're parroting reagan era anti-rap (& antiblack) pearl-clutching talking points, and it's a very ugly look. It isn't racist if your favorite genre isn't rap, but you need to do some serious self reflection if you consider it inherently less artistic, intelligent or positive than 'whiter' genres when you don't actually listen to it. I am looking at you, people into other counterculture genres-- it's crazy how much I see this from self-professed punks and metalheads especially lmfao. If expression, counterculture art, anti-censorship in music and the right for raw and unfiltered music to exist matters to you as much as you say you do, you should care about rap's relationship to censorship & fight for its legitimacy just as much as what you listen to.
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wheresarizona · 3 days
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but I would die for you in secret
Part 2
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is less complicated now that he’s going to tell Ellie that you’ve been secretly seeing each other for months. You thought their discussion would go well, but when you get home from work to a note on your front door from Joel that reads, ‘Come over, we need to talk,’ it has you immediately thinking the worst—up until he answers his door in nothing but a towel and drags you inside to fuck your brains out for the first time in his bed.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, explicit smut, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, Joel Miller has a big dick, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating (he tells you to choke on it (in a good way)), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk (so much), spit mention, biting, spanking, whatever the kink is where you’re turned on by good dads, Joel in just a towel, pregnancy discussion, fluff, the last 3k words in Ellie’s pov (truly delightful), Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Joel giving Ellie shit, Ellie and Joel having the best discussions, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 11.1k+
a/n: Yes, I did make my own gif because I was too lazy to try and hunt for it. I really, really wanted to write about what happened after the last chapter, and here we are. I think this will be the last one. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The sun hadn’t risen when Joel Miller left your bed this morning.
That's how it usually was, him coming and going in the dark so no one sees him leave his house to come to yours across the street—the nights you spend together are bathed in secrecy, the two of you inhabiting your own little world, confined to the space of your home.
Why the sneaking around?
He didn’t want his daughter, Ellie, to know of his relationship with you. Over the many months you’ve been together, he’s let you in on much of what she had gone through before they got to Jackson. You understood that he’s all she has, and he’s worried that if he started openly dating, she’d think she isn’t as important to him as before or feel like Joel’s abandoning her. That’s the main reason he didn't want her to know, but with how often he brings up you being so much younger than him, and all the times he’s said you should be with someone your own age, you felt that he’s also ashamed of how old you are.
At least, that’s what you thought until the night before when he revealed his feelings for you and told you he wasn’t ashamed of you or the large gap in your ages.
When this all began, Joel was clear that all he could give you was his body—he was emotionally unavailable because he was too focused on taking care of Ellie.
Amazing sex with no strings attached? You were okay with that.
Except it wasn’t something casual, and there were strings attached.
You don’t just occasionally hook up with Joel; no, he’s at your place most nights and some days without his daughter knowing. You also can’t go out with anyone else, not that you want to—he doesn’t share or like when other men are interested in you. You aren’t any better, hating when women flirt with him, especially his next-door neighbor Sandra, who refuses to acknowledge he doesn’t want her.
Why does she, specifically, annoy you so much?
Not only does she shamelessly flirt with Joel any chance she gets, but she also touches him, her hand always ending up on his arm that he shrugs off, making him growl at her not to touch him. Does she listen? No, she still does it every time she runs into him, and it pisses you off that she doesn’t respect his boundaries. Plus, there was an incident a couple of months after he moved to Jackson where she got him over to her house under the false pretense of needing something fixed and then basically jumped him—she kissed him without his permission and came onto him, which he was not into and had him leaving immediately. He can’t stand her, and he’s been very firm with her that he’s not interested. If what she does to Joel isn’t bad enough, she creeps the fuck out of Ellie, and that pisses you off even more. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved the kid from talking to her; the look on Ellie’s face that screams she wants to be anywhere other than with Sandra makes your hackles rise, and a need comes over you to get the girl out of there as quickly as possible.
Has anything ever happened between Joel and Sandra to make her delusional enough to think if she keeps harassing him and his daughter, he’ll eventually want to be with her?
From what you understand, Tommy and Maria tried to set them up when he first arrived, but he declined; it truly was a case of right place, wrong time. He was polite when he rejected her and explained that his daughter needed him and that he had zero interest in starting a relationship with someone. Back then, he was completely occupied with taking care of Ellie, and dating was out of the question; it didn’t even cross his mind or was something he wanted. He was content with his fresh start in Jackson, alone with his kid to help her heal.
Why did Joel accept your advances the first time you met?
Right place, right time.
Once you moved to town, the father and daughter were settled to the point that Ellie was doing great in adjusting to life in Wyoming, and Joel felt he could finally do something for himself; you were tempting enough that he wanted to be selfish. He liked that you didn’t reek of desperation or made him feel pressured, neither of you doing anything that made the other uncomfortable. Obviously, there was a mutual attraction between you two, and the flirting went both ways; his head was already leaning toward yours when you went in for the first kiss, which he happily reciprocated.
What it came down to was he trusted you, and you were willing to do things on his terms.
And, of course, as it usually happens, feelings did develop—as his kid got better and more comfortable with living in Jackson, Joel opened up to you little by little, offering a tiny bit more of himself with each passing day and your relationship became confusing; it wasn’t only sex anymore; hasn’t been just that for a while, and it took you both over eight months to admit you’re in love, and for Joel to decide it’s time to tell Ellie, so he could actually be with you out in the open.
So, he left your bed before the sun had risen in order to be home before she woke up—that way, she wouldn’t be confused by his absence. He also planned on talking to her about what was going on between you two.
There’s this ritual he does before he leaves each morning that you’ve chalked up to him being from a different time and big on manners; your two previous sexual partners were closer to your age and nowhere near as courteous as him.
The slightest sounds will wake you, a side effect of surviving, and the moment the mattress springs squeak as he gets up, hours before you need to, your consciousness is coming back to you to assess if there’s any danger. Your ears perk at the rustle of him dressing in the dark, and you’ve learned not to spook when the blankets are pulled up to cover your bare body that gets tucked in. The kiss pressed to your hair always makes you smile at the sweetness, and you expect the whispered goodbye he says before he goes.
This morning, you didn’t expect the added ‘Love you’ at the end, which had your eyes opening and hand shooting out from under the covers to grab his, tugging him toward you. He knew what you wanted, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You told him you loved him, too, when he straightened and started to leave, and he stopped at the doorway to get one last look at you under the dim light filtering through the gaps in your curtains from the street lamp outside, then headed home.
It’s safe to say your morning started off pretty great, and even though you didn’t see Joel after he left, the rest of your day wasn’t half bad either; it took a little turn when you got back to your house after working your job teaching at the school to a note from him on your door that read:
Come over
We need to talk
A romantic partner saying you needed to talk was never good, and worry knotted up in your belly like a ball, thinking things with Ellie didn’t go well when he told her about your relationship, and now he’s going to break up with you.
The first time you stopped by his place, you’d made the mistake of knocking; he was home alone and hadn’t known you were at the door until you rang the doorbell. It was adorable how he’d been a little embarrassed he didn’t hear you and pointed at his right ear to explain he had hearing loss. From then on, you always made sure to ring the doorbell, and you did so again, standing on his porch in the freezing cold with your winter coat on and worrying your lip between your teeth.
There’s the faint sound of him yelling from inside, “One minute!” thinking he’s upstairs, which is confirmed when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The deadbolt clicks as it’s unlocked, and the door is cracked open; Joel’s face appears, the rest of his body hidden.
He looks relieved to see you, and that’s a good sign. “Thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, opening the door some more to take your hand pulling you inside. The front door gets slammed shut, and your back is suddenly pressed against it, a surprised sound leaving your throat when his mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard.
This is an even better sign that everything is okay.
He’s never kissed you in his house before.
One of his big palms cradles your face, the other locking the deadbolt beside you before it glides up your jacket-covered front to squeeze your breast. Your lips part to allow his tongue to delve inside and tangle with your own, looping your arms around his neck automatically. This kiss has your brain fritzing out, unable to think about anything except how he’s claimed you with his lips and tongue so fiercely and possessively while his large body cages you in. It’s embarrassing how long it takes a coherent thought to come through, and when it does, you’re lightly pushing at his chest, the surprise of bare skin under your hand causing you to break your mouth away to look at his body immediately.
A disappointed noise comes from him, and your eyes go wide at what you see.
“You’re naked,” you whisper.
His hand lightly holds your throat as he starts kissing along your jaw. “I’m not naked—I’m wearin’ a towel.”
That’s true. The faded blue towel is wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping just before it reaches his knees. His upper body is entirely bare, with pink and silvery scars etched all over his skin. No matter how many times you see him naked, you’re always so surprised by his broadness��it’s not a trick of his clothing or lighting that makes him appear big; he is that big.
“Still pretty naked.” You remember the thought you had. “Is Ellie home?”
“No,” he says into your skin. “She’s with Cat—” Her best friend. “—and they’re meetin’ us for dinner later.” His mouth is at your ear, feeling his hot breath, and shivering when he rasps into it, “Now, stop worryin’ about her, and let me take you up to my room so I can finally fuck you in my bed—I’ve been dyin’ to break it in with you.”
The proposition makes your cunt clench, and you’re interested in seeing his bedroom—he’s never invited you upstairs.
“Is this why you really wanted me to come over, to christen your bed?”
He pulls back to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to scandalize the neighbors by puttin’ it in writin’, but yes.” His eyes darken as he slowly unzips your coat. “You comin’ up with me?” His voice deepens, nudging his nose against yours. “Since you’re my guest, we’ll do whatever you want.”
Joel always considers what you want, but he also seems instinctively aware of what you need—that’s the great thing about being with someone so much older and experienced; he knows how to play your body and make you feel so good that you’re happy to go along for the incredible ride.
With him saying you’ll do whatever you want, he’s letting you call the shots.
Your eyebrow raises. “Anything?”
“Within reason.” He kisses your chin, your skin tingling under his lips.
“Is there anything we did last night that’s not within reason…?”
The previous night, you weren’t expecting to see Joel because he’d been taking care of a sick Ellie for the prior few days. When he arrived at your place unannounced, he found you trying to make yourself come on your fingers and ordered you to finish as he jerked off, watching you. Then he fucked your brains out until your limbs were jelly and surprised you by asking if he could come inside you—something he avoided in the past and had only accidentally happened a handful of times.
His head moves to look you in the eyes.
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all within reason.”
That sentence excites you. “Let’s go,” you say quickly. He chuckles and helps you remove your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat rack, which only has a few other items.
He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, the third step from the top creaking loudly under each of your weights.
You’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting his bedroom to be like, but when you walk into it, you take a moment glancing around at everything; there’s his queen-sized bed that’s neatly made, he’s got a record player over in the corner with a stack of vinyl records next to it, a couple of landscape paintings of pastures decorate his walls, there’s a walk-in closet not even close to full of clothes, his own private bathroom, and on top of his dresser is a few framed photos—one of Ellie playing guitar, beside that, Joel and her standing next to each other laughing. The third has you walking over to pick it up.
“Joel?”
He’s shut the door, and his bare feet pad across the floor, moving toward you.
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t want Ellie to know about us, why do you have a picture of me and her in your room?”
It was taken at the town party celebrating the harvest and shows Ellie sitting beside you at a table, leaning into you with her head against your shoulder as you both smile at the camera.
“She doesn’t come in here.”
He’s next to you, and you look over at him.
“But what if she had?”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.” He shrugs and takes the photo from you, setting it back down in its spot.
You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, and his eyes lock onto your bosom.
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered?”
It takes him too long to answer, and you realize he’s distracted, so you wave your hand in front of his face. “Focus, Joel.” His gaze goes to yours.
“What?”
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered if Ellie saw the picture?”
“I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered; it wouldn’t have revealed anythin’ she didn’t already know.”
“How long?”
His face pinches in confusion. “Huh?”
“How long has she known about us?”
His hands sit on his hips, and his weight goes to one side, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
“I don’t want you gettin’ mad at me when I tell you ‘cause I had no idea she was aware; if I’d known, it would’ve been made clear long ago to everyone you’re mine. Understood?”
It’s said with such conviction it leaves zero doubt that it’s the truth, and it feels like your skin is vibrating at the fact he’s really going to make sure all of Jackson knows that you’re together now.
You smile. “God, that’s hot—yes, I understand.”
“Good—she clocked us pretty much from the beginnin’.”
“Of course she did,” you reply. “I had a feeling she’s known for a while, but since the beginning? I am both impressed and very annoyed. Why didn’t she tell you she knew?”
He grimaces. “She thought it was a subject we avoided...” He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I guess I’m cagey when Tess comes up, mostly ‘cause I don’t even know what that relationship was, and since I never said anythin’ about you, she figured we don’t talk about our romantic partners.”
Your eyes round. “Our? Is Ellie dating someone?”
His hand lowers, and he smiles, nodding. “She said I could tell you—Ellie’s way better at the secret girlfriend stuff than I am.”
“Cat?”
His eyebrows dip down. “How’d you know?”
“Ellie looks at Cat the same way you look at me.”
A long sigh leaves him. “So, it’s true.” He sounds defeated, his shoulders slumping.
“What’s true?”
“When she was pointin’ out how obvious we’ve been, she gave me shit for starin’ at you with, she called ‘em ‘googly eyes,’ whatever the fuck that means.”
You snort and step into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding your hips.
“It’s this way you look at me, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was until you told me you loved me last night, and I realized it’s love; devotion—your eyes show the truth of what you’re feeling, and good news, babe.”
“What’s that?”
“You can give her shit for having googly eyes like her father.”
That seems to cheer him up, and honestly, it’s cute.
“She’s gonna hate knowin’ that—I can’t wait to tell her.”
You giggle. “So, Ellie’s really okay with us?”
“She is.” He nods.
“Good—this might sound weird.” You can’t look at him as you say this and focus on a patch of freckles on his shoulder, heat creeping up your neck. “But, um, you being a great dad and loving your kids so much—” He’s told you about Sarah. “—really does it for me. There’s something about it that’s incredibly attractive.”
“Yeah?” He ducks his head to press his lips over your pulse point, peppering kisses up your neck; his hand slides down between your legs where your warmth is felt through your jeans, rubbing over your sex. It makes you gulp, excitement sparking in your tummy.
“Yes.”
His mouth reaches your ear, tugging the lobe lightly between his teeth. His warm breath fans against your skin when he hovers his lips to whisper, “I think I know why.“
Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and pulses in your core to the same beat, feeling your need for him drip into your panties.
“W-why?”
He speaks in a huskier tone, “You know that havin’ my babies means they’d get a good father, and you have nothin’ to worry about when I fill your perfect little pussy with my come.”
Pleasure cuts through you sharp as a knife, and you moan.
“Yeah, I know you like it—is that what you want tonight, sweetheart? Want me to stuff you full?”
What he’s saying is making your skin so hot that your clothes are stifling, and you want him more than anything; you need him to ease the ache in your center.
“God, yes.”
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
You’re wondering what’s changed that suddenly has him unbothered about the possibility of getting you pregnant when he actively tried to prevent it previously—something you’ll have to inquire about later because it seems Joel’s had enough talking as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and he pulls your body flush against his.
It’s consuming and exhilarating.
No one has ever made you feel the way he does—the all-encompassing fiery passion that has arousal burning like an inferno in your belly, needing him so badly you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you.
Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying of desperation from not getting Joel Miller’s dick—sounds kind of nice compared to the alternatives in today’s world.
You’ve also never been with someone his age.
There was this girl a little older than you that you met on your travels—you don’t find very many friendly people out in the wilds, and she joined you for maybe a week before she headed west toward Seattle. She told you one evening, as you sat by a fire under the stars together, that hands down, the best sex she ever had was with an older guy who was in his early thirties when the outbreak happened. She went on about how generous he was in actually making her come and that he knew exactly what to do; the entire experience was apparently life-changing. She swore she’d never get with anyone younger again, and you were intrigued.
When you asked her if it was weird fucking a guy old enough to be her father, she gave you a funny look, and you’ll never forget what she said:
“Ain’t nothing weird about two consenting adults having a good time.”
She had a point.
When Joel showed up at your door looking so incredibly handsome soon after you moved to Jackson, the conversation with that girl came to mind, and you decided to see if she was right, and dear god, this man in his late fifties has ruined you for anyone else—he was the first person to go down on you, he was the first person other than yourself to get you off, he was the first person to come inside you; the last one was an accident and it shocked you how much the risk turned you on.
You can’t imagine being with anyone else after him.
The kissing heats up, practically all tongues at this point, Joel’s straining cock beneath the towel pressing against you, and it’s always incredibly sexy the way he knows just what you need without you having to say a word—in less than a minute, he's stripped you of all your clothes, and has you on your back in the middle of his mattress, Joel on his knees between your spread legs, and leaning down, with your pebbled nipple sucked between his lips.
He has both of your breasts in his hands while he laves at one and then the other, the nibble of his teeth on the sensitive buds causing your pussy to weep for him, your fingers clutched in his damp, grey hair.
"Oh my god, Joel," you moan.
He loves worshipping your tits, and if you let him, he’ll play with them for hours; the problem is today, you’re on a time crunch since you have dinner plans, and you want a chance to make him feel good, too.
Your hands tug on his messy waves to get his attention, saying, "Let me suck your dick."
His head lifts, and you're met with dark eyes, his lips shiny with spit. The cool air hitting your wet skin causes goosebumps to rise.
"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” He grunts as he pushes himself up to kneel. He’s still wearing the towel, which is tenting in the front.
You eagerly sit up and get on your knees, shuffling toward him, and when you’re close enough, he can’t seem to help himself, his palms holding your face as he passionately kisses you. Your hands snake between your bodies to unwrap the towel around his waist, tossing it to the side without a care, and you wrap your fingers around his length that’s hard as steel and velvety smooth, feeling hot to the touch.
He nips at your bottom lip when he ends the kiss, and without another word, you’re moving back enough to get on all fours, holding your weight on one arm while your other hand grips around the base of him, and then he’s in your mouth—his girth has you opening as wide as you can, your lips stretching to their limit. He’s heavy on your tongue, taking more and more of him as you bob your head.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours.”
Saliva is dribbling down his shaft, lubricating every stroke of your palm over what can’t fit in your mouth, his large hand guiding your head up and down his dick.
“Spit on it,” he commands. You hover your lips over him, gathering saliva on your tongue, and looking up at him through your lashes as you let it drip onto the tip of him—his pupils are blown so wide, there’s hardly any brown remaining, a gorgeous pink flush crawling up his chest and neck to paint his stubbled cheeks.
He’s watching you, his chest rumbling when you take him back into your mouth and fondle his sack in your palm.
When you first met, you were pretty inexperienced when it came to sex—you’d only slept with two men, and it hadn’t been very pleasurable on either occasion. Then Joel came along and showed you how good it could be and let you experiment to figure out what you did and didn’t enjoy. He also walked you through what he liked, which is why you know how he’s going to respond as you suck him off and gently tug on his balls. “Fuucckk,” he says in a drawn-out moan, and it has electricity dancing down your spine that you’re making him feel so good.
You go back to jerking him, your hand moving easily, twisting on the upstroke along his spit-slick cock, while bobbing your head, feeling him slide along the broad flat of your tongue to hit the back of your throat—you’re making appreciative noises that vibrate against his skin, loving him in your mouth, and how vocal he is in his enjoyment, Joel groaning, his breaths getting heavier, and slowly thrusting his hips.
You come off of him, licking a stripe from root to tip, tracing a bulging vein with your tongue, and circling the sensitive edges of the head. His cock throbs in your hand as you hold it out of the way to go lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before giving the second the same treatment.
His voice is a deep baritone, the words thick with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ good to me.”
Licking back up, you swirl around the tip and sink down again, hollowing your cheeks.
His hand easily covers yours low on his shaft to keep it and himself still, his other palm going to the back of your head. “Choke on it, baby—take it down that pretty throat.”
This time when he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat, you relax, swallowing around him, taking as much of him into the tight space as you can, and there’s enough of him that won’t fit for your fingers to wrap around—his other hand clutches your hair as he keeps your head from moving, your eyes watering, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, while his hard cock fills your throat. You’re doing the best you can to breathe through your nose.
He’s panting. “That’s fuckin’ it—so fuckin’ beautiful with my dick down your throat.” His fingers go around your neck to feel it bulge. “You love havin' my cock fillin' you, don’t you? Your pussy, your throat, you're hungry for it and can't get enough 'cause no one can make you feel as good as I do, isn’t that right?” You moan in agreement, his shaft pulsing on the flat of your tongue. “God, you make the prettiest noises for me.”
You swallow around him, and his punched-out groan has your cunt clenching hard on nothing, a layer of slick coating your inner thighs.
“Stop,” he orders, pulling you off of him and causing you to sputter. “I’m not comin’ in your mouth.”
The statement has a sharp spike of arousal erupting low in your stomach because you know this means he’s going to finish inside you, and it has you wanting him with every fiber of your being.
He gets you up on your knees, holding your chin as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside where he sucks on your own. Your heart is hammering in your chest, moaning as the fingers of his free hand pinch and roll your stiff nipple, and you’re trying to convince your lungs that you’ll be okay without oxygen for another minute when his mouth suddenly leaves yours. Your chin is still cradled in his palm, Joel’s breaths coming out hard as he shoves his face against the side of yours and lightly bites the apple of your cheek before his lips are at your ear.
The sides of your faces are touching, his stubble prickling against your skin. “Now what?” he asks. Anticipation has you practically vibrating. “You got to suck my dick, what do you want now? You’re in charge—my fingers? Want me to eat your pussy? Or my cock without me loosenin’ you up so you’ll feel it tomorrow?” He smacks your ass with his other palm, and you gasp. “Tell me.”
Joel is very well-endowed, especially in terms of girth, and he’s aware of this fact; unless you tell him not to, he always gets you off before he fucks you, so it relaxes your muscles and makes it easier to take him. Right now, you need him inside you too much to have the patience for any more foreplay, so be it if you’re a little uncomfortable tomorrow.
You swallow before you answer. “Dick, please.”
“How do you want it?”
“Your choice.”
“You got it, baby.”
He grabs a handful of your asscheek, then gives it a spank and kisses your cheek, letting go of your chin to slide his fingers through the slick lips of your sex, his face coming into your line of sight.
It’s clear in his darkened eyes how much he wants you.
“You get so fuckin’ wet for me,” he says and presses two thick fingers inside you, your mouth falling open when he starts pumping. The tips press into something magical you can never reach, no matter how many times you try. “This needy pussy can’t get enough of my dick,” he continues. “You want it? Want me to stretch you open? Make you feel it tomorrow and come so deep in your sweet little cunt I’m drippin’ from you for days?”
He has you feeling so hot you think you might combust.
“Yes.”
A quick kiss is pressed to your lips. “Hands and knees,” he orders, slipping his fingers out of you.
His way of helping you get into position is manhandling you until your hands and knees sink into the mattress with him behind you—he fucked you hard face down, ass up the night before, and you’re wondering if he’s going to give you an encore.
His fingers dig into your asscheeks as he spreads them and spits on your pussy, feeling the hot saliva start to drip, and hearing him repeat the action on his digits, that he uses to wet his cock. Joel slides himself through your folds and presses to your entrance, your hips pushing back enough to engulf the tip of him—a palm lands on your ass with a loud smack, the sting causing your head to fall forward between your shoulders with a moan, his other hand firm on your waist to stop your movements.
“Don’t be greedy,” he grumbles, slapping your ass again. “I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”
You whine because you want him inside you already.
“You’re real fuckin’ needy today,” he says and slowly begins pushing in. There’s a slight burn as your tight walls stretch around him to accommodate his size, the ache in your core dissipating with every inch he feeds into your pussy. “Jesus Christ,” his tone is strained. “You’re so much tighter when I don’t make you come first—you’re chokin’ me.” Your fingers are clawing at the bedspread, your heart’s pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your skin. There’s one word repeating over and over in your head: Big.
He takes his time; the seconds that tick by feel like hours, and once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in—the familiar fullness satisfies the overwhelming need you had and has something purring in the back of your mind that this is right; it’s perfect how he fills you. He was right; there’s no one else on the entire planet who could satisfy you like he does.
His large palm slides halfway up your spine. “You’re doin’ great for me, baby,” he rasps. “Takin’ me so well. Now, I’m gonna make you feel good.”
And the fact you know he is has your cunt throbbing incessantly around him.
His hands hold your waist, and he does an experimental thrust, your answering moan encouraging him to start moving—he’s slow at first, rocking his hips and letting you feel every ridge and vein on his thick cock as it moves in and out of you.
He’s pressing into heavenly spots you didn’t know existed before him, loving how deep in your depths he reaches. The waves of arousal he’s coaxing from you is soaking his dick and easing his movements.
“God, I love bein’ inside you,” he says and slaps your ass; you clamp down on him, and he groans. “You feel so damn good—fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”
You fuck yourself back on him as you whine, “It’s yours!”
He grits through his teeth, “Yes. It. Is.” Punctuating each word with a hard thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs. “It’s. Mine. You’re mine.”
His rhythm speeds up, a steady slap of his hips against yours that echoes in the room, Joel grunting with each stroke and your moans coming unbidden. Your ass is jiggling from the onslaught, your head is dizzy with pleasure, and heat is growing at the base of your spine, threatening to explode.
This is how you like it, getting fucked senseless.
You squeak in surprise when gun-calloused fingers grip your upper arms at the bend of your elbows and pull you up, making you arch your back, Joel tugging you back each time he thrusts forward, pounding into you hard enough your eyes roll back in your head, and your mouth opens in a silent cry—his rough sounds are slipping through his bared teeth and obscene squelching is coming from where he’s fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.
You’re quivering around him, your entire body shaking, quaking, as he pummels a spot that’s making stars dance behind your eyelids, the muscles in your belly tightening, winding, building you up higher and higher. Your skin is hot and buzzing like every nerve in your body is lit up, a thin layer of sweat coating the entirety of it.
His breathing is ragged, and he grits out the question, “Are you gonna come for me?” He doesn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezin’ me—I know you’re close.”
His hands have an iron grip on you. Noise finally leaves your lips in stuttered moans, and you’re losing your mind at how fucking good it feels—you’re not going to last much longer.
“Once you go,” he says, “you’re takin’ me with you, and I’m fillin’ you up.”
The reminder has white-hot pleasure scorching in your abdomen, and you’re coming undone, shouting his name as your climax hits and euphoria takes over every molecule in your body.
A choked sound comes from behind you, and you get pulled back flush to him, Joel’s arm locking over your chest with his hand squeezing one of your tits while the other wraps around your throat, his lips pressing to your ear as he raggedly groans “There we fuckin’ go.” His teeth sink into your earlobe as his hips stutter, and he buries himself one last time as far as he can in your depths, whining as he comes—his cock pulses and twitches hard as he releases deep inside you, spurts and spurts of his come filling your inner walls.
There’s a chance you’ve left Earth with how you feel like you’re floating, your brain completely empty of thoughts—you’re not sure you could think if you even tried, let alone move.
You register being laid down on your side and the warm body curling around your back; an arm is over your middle, and your breast is being held in a large palm, feeling so relaxed you think you might fall asleep.
A minute passes.
Five.
Ten.
There’s a loud snore behind you.
“Joel?” It’s embarrassing how it comes out as a croak.
No response—of course, there’s no response, his left ear is pressed to the mattress, and he can barely hear out of the right. You rub your hand along his arm and lightly tap it.
He goes eerily quiet, and you know he’s awoken, but he’s taking a second to assess where he is. Joel sits up a little. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?”
Your torso slightly twists toward him, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern when they meet yours.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him and pat his forearm. “You fell asleep, and we can’t be late meeting Ellie. Otherwise, she’ll come looking for us, and we don’t need to scar the poor girl with her finding out her dad has a very active sex life.”
He snorts, his lips turning up. “She’s not dumb—she knows why I’m at your place every night.”
“She assumes the reason you come over—it’s one thing to assume and another to know for sure, and the second one, when it happens, will probably make her puke and then look at you with disgust for a while.”
He frowns, and you can tell he’s thinking hard. “I never brought women around Sarah…” he says. “I mean, when she was older, she knew, on the incredibly rare occasions I did, that I was goin’ on dates, but that was all. I never had long-term girlfriends.”
That’s something you’re aware of. He’s told you about some of his previous relationships, including Tess. When he was younger, before the world ended, he only had a few girlfriends that didn’t last long and a lot of one-night stands; Sarah’s mom was a fling in his early twenties who disappeared as soon as their daughter was born—she didn’t want to be a mother at such a young age, and only had the baby because she couldn’t stand the guilt of the alternative.
“Oh, so Ellie knowing me and being aware we’re together is new territory for you. How does that make you feel?”
“Real fuckin’ lucky I found someone she likes and who understands that she’s my top priority—the other women I dated couldn’t stand playin’ second fiddle to Sarah even though I was always upfront that she came first before anyone else, the same thing I told you from the get-go about Ellie.”
“And that makes complete sense to me. I know I’m important to you, but it’s different; she’s your child, who you’re responsible for, so she takes precedence. After all the shit she’s been through, it’s great she found a father who loves and cares about her so much.”
He smiles. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you—you get it and were more than willin’ to be with me in secret to protect her.”
You smirk. “True, it didn’t hurt that the sex is fucking spectacular, too.”
He chuckles, and you find yourself on your back with him half on top of you, happily kissing you.
Your words are muffled against his lips. “I need to ask you something.”
There’s one last kiss, then his pretty face hovers over yours.
“What do you wanna ask that’s more important than me kissin’ you?”
“Something that I need to know after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
His mouth downturns, and his eyebrows furrow. “Is somethin’ wrong…?”
“No, no, everything’s great,” you tell him and slide your fingers through the curls above his ears. “Has your feelings on children changed? Like, in terms of having more…?”
From the beginning, he was clear that he didn’t want any more kids, and it stressed him out whenever he accidentally finished inside you; you’d think that would put him off sleeping with you again, but he couldn’t stay away, and told you, when asked what would happen if you got pregnant, that you’d figure it out and you didn’t need to worry about him abandoning you—the last part always made you wonder how he’d be involved in your baby’s life with Ellie unaware you were together, and the only thing you could imagine was out in public, Joel taking on the role of your close friend your child calls their uncle, which is pretty depressing to think about.
He’s got an arm beside your head, holding himself up, and his other palm strokes along your cheek, his eyes softening.
“A lot has changed since I met you—you’ve turned my world on its head, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I know I swore I’d never bring another life into this world after losin’ Sarah, but Ellie came along, and I love gettin’ to be a dad again.” The fond look on his face is proof of that. “I really do. She’s a pain in my ass, but I love her, and now that we’re done hidin’ and can finally have a life with everyone knowin’ we’re together, there won’t be any doubt that it’s my baby if you got pregnant.”
Something about that excites you that he wants it to be clear he’s the father of your kid—for a second, you imagine what a child with him would look like, and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of seeing tiny versions of his eyes and cheeks; would they inherit his elusive dimple?
“I know I’m too fuckin’ old to be takin’ care of a newborn,” he continues, “but I like the idea of havin’ one with you, and I think you’d love it. You’re so good with Ellie and all those little kids you teach. I can tell you want one of your own, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He smiles.
“Yeah, you do. You’d be a great mom. When I realized I was gonna talk to Ellie the other day and tell her about us, I thought this was somethin’ I could give you; it’s some kind of future, maybe not what you deserve, but it’s what I can offer. And it’s reassurin’ you’re gonna live a helluva lot longer than I will, so I know that if anythin’ happens to me, my children will still have their mother, along with Ellie, who I think would love bein’ a sister. So, to answer your question, yes, my feelings on havin’ more children has changed, but only with you—you’re the only woman I’d want to have a baby with.”
This revelation has you beyond excited—you’d love to have a child with him.
“It’s crazy that yesterday I didn’t know how to define what our relationship was—I knew I loved you, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and today, we’re officially a couple and talking about having babies. At this rate, I’ll be moving in with you tomorrow.”
“Do you wanna?” he asks, looking completely serious.
Your eyes widen as you stare. “What? I was joking, Joel.”
“And I’m not jokin’, especially about havin’ you here all the time. I don’t want us livin’ separately if we do the baby thing, and you know I’m almost done remodelin’ the garage out back into an apartment for Ellie.”
Joel was pretty upset the night he came over after Ellie asked about having her own living space. It happened two or three months into seeing each other, and he’d been distraught that she was at an age where she wanted more independence and didn’t want to spend as much time with him now that she had friends—something else he never got to experience with Sarah and it really twisted the knife in his gut. There was no way the town council would give a teenager a house, so Joel agreed to convert the garage into an apartment for her.
“Are we moving too fast?” you ask.
When you say out loud everything that’s happened in the last day and your plans for the near future, it sounds like you’re moving too fast, but it doesn’t feel that way.
His eyebrow rose. “Baby, we could die tomorrow. Life these days is too fuckin’ uncertain to be worryin’ about movin’ too fast, and we should do what makes us happy.”
He’s right, and it isn’t a bad idea…
“I’ll only agree to move in if Ellie says it’s okay.”
Your response has Joel chuckling as he kisses you.
“Wait, I have another question,” your words are said into his lips.
His mouth breaks away from yours as he sighs and presses his forehead to yours.
“I love you more than anythin’, but can I please kiss you without interruptions?”
“If you answer this question, we can make out—with tongue.”
His head lifts, and he looks confused. “It’s not makin’ out if there isn’t tongue.”
“Do you wanna make out or not?”
His expression turns grumpy. “Yes, so ask your damn question.”
“What would you have done if you opened the door in just your towel, and it was Sandra instead of me?”
“I would’ve shut the fuckin’ door—now kiss me. I was promised tongue.”
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Snow.
So much fucking snow.
Ellie hated winter in Boston, but Jackson? It’s a new kind of hell with how much of the freezing, white bullshit falls from the sky to blanket everything. On the days when she’s assigned the job of shoveling walkways down the main streets of the town, she wishes the bite on her arm had done her in—a dark thought, yes, but that’s how much she despises doing it.
The only positive thing about getting sick was not having to work; the biggest negative was Joel and how he was worrying so much he wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. Yeah, it’s sweet, or whatever, that he cares so much, but this guy literally watched her sleep—he sat at the window seat in her room every night to keep an eye on her, and if she woke up, which happened a lot from the coughing, he was there at the side of her bed asking if she needed anything, and touching her forehead to check her temperature.
Thank god, his secret girlfriend came by when she did because Ellie was so close to stabbing him if he asked her how she was feeling one more time; her friends kept her sane the next day when they checked in on her, and luckily, by then she was pretty much over her sickness, and Joel had finally started to chill the fuck out.
That night, she thankfully got to sleep alone in her room, and it wasn’t surprising when she heard the third step down the staircase loudly creak—she’d tried everything, and there was no way to step on it without it making noise—a sign Joel was going across the street.
Oh, Ellie figured out something was going on between Joel and their across-the-street neighbor not too long after she moved in.
What tipped Ellie off was one day she was walking home after work and had almost arrived at their house when she saw the two of them chatting at her and Joel’s front door. Nothing fishy about that, right? Wrong. Joel was smiling as he spoke to the woman, and it wasn’t one of his fake, polite smiles he does when he’s trying to make himself look less scary and somewhat approachable; no, this was a genuine smile, with some teeth showing, and a rare sighting of the dimple in his cheek—it makes her gag to even think this, but she’d call the smile, charming.
Yuck.
Who wants to think about the guy that’s basically their dad trying to charm someone?
Disgusting.
If the smile wasn’t suspicious enough, the moment he spotted Ellie, it suddenly disappeared—why wouldn't Joel want her seeing him being so friendly with the new neighbor? Probably because he was hiding something; she’ll admit it also could’ve been so she didn’t tease him about having a crush, but the thing is, she wouldn’t have, which is really fucking surprising with how much shit she gives him.
See, she’s not stupid; she knows Joel’s made taking care of her his life’s purpose since they left Boston and that he loves her as if she were his own kid; not to get mushy, but she loves the grumpy fucker, too, and she wants him to be happy, like she is—he’s the reason her life is so good now, and it was time that he did something that’d make him happy. So, Ellie isn’t going to be a dick about him putting himself out there because she doesn’t want to discourage him.
Once Ellie was onto them, it was so freaking obvious that they were a thing—anytime they ran into the neighbor, Joel actually talked to her, instead of his usual one to two-word responses, he gave everyone else who wasn’t Ellie or Tommy. Joel always watched her if she was nearby and went over to her house the moment she asked him to fix something or help her—Ellie’s pretty sure a lot of the tasks were bullshit, and it was their excuse to see each other. Then there’s the damning evidence of Joel sneaking out almost every night; there was a night she got to a window in time to see him sticking to the shadows as he made his way across the street, and it confirmed everything.
He was pretty hush about his relationship with Tess—they’ve discussed her in general, and Ellie knows they had some kind of relationship; she’s just not sure if they were, you know, dating or in love. So, with Joel keeping quiet about what he’s got going on with their young neighbor, Ellie assumed he was just a private guy when it came to that stuff, and it was something they didn’t talk about, figuring if things got serious enough, he’d bring it up.
And hey, she’s hinted that she knows by inviting his secret girlfriend to eat and do stuff with them; Ellie’s even attempted to get the older woman to admit they’re together, but she wouldn’t break, no matter how hard the teen tried.
Then Ellie accidentally overslept at her girlfriend’s this morning and didn’t make it home before Joel, and now they’re both aware of the other’s love life. She won’t lie; it made her unbelievably happy that he didn’t give a single fuck she was dating a girl—he had more of a reaction to her getting a tattoo than her telling him she had a girlfriend, and she’s glad he didn’t make a big deal about it, not that she thought for a minute he wouldn’t be cool with her being with a lady since he was chill when she told him she didn’t like boys not too long after they got to Jackson; plus, the guy was really good friends with Bill and Frank, after all—he’s told her he’s glad she never got a chance to meet Bill because apparently, they would’ve caused a lot of trouble together and possibly taken over the world, which sounded pretty fucking great to her.
The snow crunches under her boots as she walks down the road on their way to the mess hall, her girlfriend, Cat, beside her, chatting about their days. Since she recovered from being sick yesterday, she had to go back to work today, and thankfully, she was assigned an easy job—animal feeding duty, which is both easy and fun.
“Shit, it’s Sandra!” Ellie hisses, grabbing Cat’s hand, “Hide!” She tugs the other girl behind a giant snow-covered bush. She peeks around it, seeing the bane of her and Joel’s existence walking up the street from the opposite direction, probably heading to the mess hall for dinner, too. The other woman is pretty far away, but Ellie doesn’t want to risk her seeing them.
“Why do we avoid Sandra again?” her girlfriend asks.
Ellie’s head turns her way; Cat’s wearing a purple beanie and an oversized navy blue coat, her dark eyes meeting Ellie’s. “God, where to start,” she says and takes a deep breath. “So, when we first moved here, Tommy and Maria tried to get Joel to go out with Sandra since they thought she was a great match for him—she’s also from Texas, pretty, widowed, and has no kids. Anyways, they tried to set them up, but Joel didn’t want to go out with her or anyone else. He was super polite when he turned her down. I guess Sandra took that as him playing hard to get, and she hasn’t left him alone since.”
“So, you avoid her, too…?”
“Oh, right—she wants to be my mom.”
“What…?”
“Yeah, every time she talks to me alone, she likes to bring up how I could use a mom, or wouldn’t it be great if I had one to take care of me and my dad—” Ellie makes a face. “—it’s always so fucking weird calling Joel that out loud.” He pretty much is her dad and she won’t correct anyone who refers to him as such, but to her, he’s Joel. “I think when she says that creepy stuff, she’s trying to get me to convince Joel to date her, but we both agree she’s nuts. Like, I overheard Joel talking to Tommy once, and apparently, some months after we got here, she came over to our house and asked if he could fix something at hers, and he went because Joel might be a bit of a grumpy dick, he’s still a good guy, and she kissed him and was all over him—you get the picture—and he got the fuck out of there, and isn’t as polite when he tells her to leave him alone now.”
“He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and she still won’t get the hint…? Does she know there are other single men in town…?”
“She only has eyes for Joel. I don’t think she’s used to men rejecting her, so now it’s her goal to get him. I mean, she’s persistent. If she sees me or him together or separately, she always talks to us; it’s awkward, and I have to tell you it’s disturbing watching someone flirt with Joel so hard—she’s not subtle at all. It’s honestly weird, and Joel is completely over it. I just don’t get why so many women in this town are into his old ass.”
Ellie has witnessed many women shoot their shots with Joel and get turned down, which is another thing that gave him and his girlfriend away—they never openly flirted, but there is a lot of friendly touching, which is out of character for Joel. The first time Ellie saw Joel open a door and guide the other woman inside with a hand on her back, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, ‘Aha!’
“It makes no sense to me,” she continues. “This dude’s old enough to be my grandpa, he’s only got one good ear, he’s weird looking, and after a few days not showering, his feet smell so fucking bad you’ll want to chop your nose off—I swear the only reason we didn’t run into more infected while traveling is because Joel’s disgusting stench scared them away.”
Cat snorts. “You’ve mentioned how bad he smelled a lot.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t un-smell him, and it fucking haunts me.” She shudders. “Now, back on topic, Sandra creeps Joel and me the fuck out, and I’m positive his secret girlfriend would’ve murdered her by now if she wasn’t a secret.”
“Hopefully, Sandra will back off now that Joel’s relationship is no longer a secret.”
“That’d be so nice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I know you’ve never said anything, but does it bother you how young his girlfriend is?”
Ellie’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it bother me?” she asks. “She’s an adult and can do whatever she fucking wants. I mean, I don’t understand why she’d willingly choose to be with such an old, ugly, grumpy man, but that’s her deal, and she’s pretty cool. I’m just glad Joel got with someone I like and get along with.” A horrible thought comes to her. “God, imagine if he had started dating Sandra, and I had to pretend to like her and not be weirded out by her trying to be my mom? Yeah, who gives a fuck that his girlfriend is closer to my age than his, she’s not weird and makes him happy, and that’s all that matters.” Something pops up in her brain, and she smiles. “Oh my god, Cat—” She grabs the other girl’s arm and shakes it in excitement. “—what if they had a kid? I could be a sister!” That’d be amazing. She’s always wanted a sibling. Her hands go still, and her eyebrows pull together; she’s lost feeling in the tip of her nose with how cold it is. “Wait,” she starts, “is Joel too old to have a baby? Like, I mean his stuff—” She gags. “—you know what I’m talking about. Does it go bad with age? He’s really fucking old.” Cat’s trying hard not to laugh, her gloved palm over her mouth, and Ellie shoves a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me for not knowing! What I learned in school was pretty basic, so I know how babies are made—revolting, by the way—there’s just a lot of shit they didn’t explain in detail, and don’t get me started on the awkward as fuck conversation Joel tried to have with me when I started hanging out with Dina and Jesse.” Jesse was the first boy her age she befriended in Jackson.
“The one where in the middle of him telling you boys will say anything to get into your pants, you shouted that you didn’t like boys?”
“Ugh, yes, and then he asked me if I liked girls, and I wasn’t completely sure, so I answered maybe, and he said—” She lowers her voice to try and mimic his. “‘Well, shit, I don’t know what the sex talk is for my daughter likin’ girls’—” She spoke normally again, “You know what, I’m actually impressed with what he pulled out of his ass.” He ensured she really understood what consent is and walked her through what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.
“To answer your question, Joel isn’t too old to have a kid.”
Ellie grins. “Wicked.” She looks around the bush to check if the coast is clear. “Looks like she’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”
When they get to the mess hall, the mood is… weird.
There’s a lot of whispering and people sneaking looks in the same direction. It only takes her a second to figure out what’s stealing everyone’s attention, and her nose crinkles at the sight.
“Cat?” She’s still staring, the other girl standing beside her.
“Yeah?”
“Am I seeing things, or is Joel really playing tonsil hockey with his not-so-secret girlfriend at our table?”
“Um, I can’t tell if they’re using tongue, but they’re definitely kissing.”
That’s obvious—the man and woman are sitting next to each other on one side of the table with their coats off, their upper bodies turned toward one another, and faces mashed together, Joel’s massive hand holding the side of her head.
“It’s weird feeling both happy for him and wanting to puke simultaneously.”
“I get it. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?”
She glances at her. “What is it?”
Cat nods her head toward a table. “Look.”
Her attention goes to where she indicated, finding Sandra clearly pissed off and glaring daggers at the couple making out, her hand clutching a fork so tight her knuckles are white.
Ellie is delighted and pulls Cat along to join Joel and his girlfriend.
“Please tell me,” she says, as they get to the table and start removing their gloves and jackets, “that you guys are being disgusting right now for the audience and that this won’t be a regular thing.”
Their mouths detach, Joel’s arm around the woman’s back while resting his other hand on the tabletop. There were trays of food for all four of them at each of their seats Joel must’ve gotten, Ellie noticing it was chili and cornbread night. The man looks at her with a close-lipped smile.
“It won’t be a regular thing—” he replies.
“—thank god,” she interrupts and sits down, Cat joining her.
“—in front of you,” he continues.
“That’s fine by me.”
He grabs his small bowl of dessert and slides it over to her.
“Peach cobbler!” she exclaims. “Fuck yeah!”
Not to be sentimental, but Ellie knows that every night they have dinner, and Joel passes her his dessert so she’ll have two, it’s him saying without words that he loves her—that’s just how they are; they suck at speaking their feelings, so they show how much they care for the other with random things like that.
“Thanks, Joel!” She ignores the chili and slice of cornbread and immediately starts digging into one of the cobblers.
“You’re welcome, Ellie—what took you guys so long? We were expectin’ you to be here before us.”
“We had to hide,” she says around a bite—it tastes so fucking good; peach cobbler is her favorite.
Joel's expression turns to one of concern. “Who the hell were you hidin’ from?”
Their girlfriends had started eating.
She swallows, giving him a look. “Who do you think?” She juts her thumb behind her. “Miss Crazypants over there, who—” She turns in her seat to find Sandra still looking pissed. “—might be Miss Murderpants now.”
“Stop starin’ and pointin’,” Joel hisses, and she faces him again.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “The woman annoys the fuck out of us, and you’re telling me not to be rude to her? A bit hypocritical, seeing as you’re clearly rubbing it in her face that you’re seeing someone.”
His jaw clenches. “That’s different.”
Her eyebrows dip together. “What?”
He adjusts in his chair to lean forward a little and starts whispering, “I want her to see us, so she’ll get the hint and leave us the fuck alone—I also want the whole town buzzin’ about me bein’ in a relationship tomorrow.”
“The first part of that, I get; the second bit, you lost me. It’s not like you to want to be the subject of town gossip.”
He straightens and picks up his spoon. “Don’t worry about it, and eat.”
That’s Joel speak for, ‘I’m done discussing this topic.’
“Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo,” she mumbles and takes another bite.
There’s some talking as they eat between all four of them. Joel seems incredibly interested in Cat’s hobby of tattooing people, which Ellie guesses is because she told him she was getting one. He’s probably just ensuring it’ll be safe and that she won’t have to worry about infections or whatever else could go wrong.
Ellie has completely demolished all the food on her tray and is stuffed, taking a big gulp of her water. She sets the cup down.
“So,” she begins, “how serious is this?” She points between the couple across from her. “Is this a fling? Is she moving in? Are you guys getting married? What can I expect?”
Joel swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he clutches in his fist as he lays it on the table.
“It’s serious,” he says. “We wanted to talk to you about her movin’ in.”
She figured that would be the case with how much time they spend together at night. Ellie’s not against the idea, but she also does not under any circumstance want to know what they do when they’re alone. She has an idea; she’s not dumb. She just prefers not having any solid evidence.
Ellie pushes her tray forward and crosses her arms on the tabletop.
“Here’s the deal: I’ll be fine with her moving in under one condition.”
He looks curious. “What’s that?”
“Whatever you guys do alone in the bedroom happens when I’m not home; I don’t wanna hear shit, I can’t unhear, and I absolutely do not want to see anything I can’t unsee. It’ll only have to be like that until you finish my apartment.”
He seems to be thinking it over. “Deal.”
“You assholes gonna get married?”
“We haven’t discussed that yet.”
His girlfriend says, “I’m okay with marriage.”
Joel’s head whips her way, and he genuinely looks surprised.
“Really?” he asks.
Ellie snorts because the other woman is looking at him like he’s dumb. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”
“I’m okay with it also.”
“Great.” She smiles.
It’s nice to see Joel so happy and to know he’s found someone. She always worried he’d die alone; sure, he’d have her, but he deserved to be loved by someone and to get good things after all of the shit he’s been through in his long fucking life.
She glances over at Cat, who’s scraping her spoon along the inside of her dessert bowl to get whatever of the cobbler is left. She’s staring at it so intently that Ellie thinks she looks adorable, and it makes her smile.
“Oh, are those the ‘googly eyes’?” she hears Joel ask the woman beside him.
“Yep,” his girlfriend answers.
Cat takes her last bite and asks them while chewing, “What are ‘googly eyes’?”
Joel sounds a little too happy, “It’s how Ellie looks at you.”
Ellie quickly turns toward him. “I don’t have ‘googly eyes’!”
She wants to wipe the smug smile off of his stupid face. “Yes, you do.”
“No, you’re lying!”
He puts a hand over his heart. “God’s honest truth, baby girl, you stare at her with ‘googly eyes.’”
Her cheeks feel hot, and she wants the floor to swallow her whole. “This is so embarrassing.” She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and remembers something.
Joel’s smiling. “It’s cute.” He starts drinking his water.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m cute, whatever,” she says, swatting away his words with her hand. She focuses on him, leaning over her arms on the table. “You know what would be really cute, now that you’ve got a girlfriend, and I think it’s still possible at your age, you’re pretty fucking old, though, but if it is possible, it’d be really cute if you guys had a baby.” She grins and nods her head.
Joel sputters and starts coughing hard. It takes him a moment to speak, and the look on his face is a mixture of confusion and anger.
“The hell do you mean if it’s possible at my age?!” he rumbles. ”I’m fifty-eight, not dead!”
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gffa · 1 day
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One thing that caught my attention while watching The Phantom Menace in the theater, a movie I didn't expect to find anything new with after how many times I've seen it and analyzed it, was that Sidious mentions multiple times that he has to change his plans to fit the new circumstances. It got me to thinking about how Palpatine gets credit for his carefully crafted plans, but often times not for how flexible he is in changing them on the fly, especially in time travel fics where someone destroys one of his plans and that's the end of it. Which, I'm not advocating against, I love a good Take That Wrinkled Walnut The Fuck Down However You Gotta Do It fic and I don't want them to change! But in canon Palpatine makes note of things he's not expecting, like:
When Valorum sends the Jedi as ambassadors, it's not part of Sidious' plan: DAULTAY DOFINE: This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious. The blockade is finished. We dare not go against the Jedi. DARTH SIDIOUS: Viceroy, I don't want this stunted slime in my sight again! This turn of events is unfortunate. We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops. NUTE GUNRAY: My lord, is that… legal? DARTH SIDIOUS: I will make it legal. NUTE GUNRAY: And the Jedi? DARTH SIDIOUS: The Chancellor should never have brought them into this. Kill them immediately!
On the Trade Federation ship, after Queen Amidala has disappeared from Naboo, Palpatine originally planned that she would be forced to sign the treaty, and then brings in Maul to deal with this. DARTH SIDIOUS: And Queen Amidala, has she signed the treaty? NUTE GUNRAY: She has disappeared, My Lord. One Naboo cruiser got pat the blockade. DARTH SIDIOUS: I want that treaty signed. NUTE GUNRAY: My Lord, it's impossible to locate the ship. It's out of our range. DARTH SIDIOUS: Not for a Sith. This is my apprentice. Darth Maul. He will find your lost ship.
On Naboo, after Padme allies with the Gungans: NUTE GUNRAY: We've sent out patrols. We've already located their starship in the swamp....It won't be long, My Lord. DARTH SIDIOUS: This is an unexpected move for her. It's too aggressive. Lord Maul, be mindful. MAUL: Yes, my Master. DARTH SIDIOUS: Be patient... Let them make the first move.
Palpatine's plans aren't static, they adapt and change with the events that happen, just as the other characters react to new information and head in new directions for it, so too does Palpatine and I think it's interesting to note that part of what makes him such a good villain is that he has an outline for what he wants to do, he sets up the dominoes of what he needs, but even when they don't fall precisely into place, he generally gets what he wants. He originally intended that Padme would sign the treaty, the Jedi wouldn't be involved, and that would lead to a vote of No Confidence to oust Valorum, using the sympathy for Naboo as a way to boost himself into the position. But he didn't really need her to sign it and still managed to use the sympathy for Naboo to get elected, it ultimately didn't matter what happened to the planet, so long as it was in danger while he needed it to be, he could use it either way. Nor, honestly, do I think he ever planned for Anakin Skywalker's existence, he had no idea they would find such a boy on Tatooine or how useful he was going to be, that was another way he changed his plans once the opportunity arose. Or a lot of his plots in TCW--he has Cad Bane steal the list of Force-sensitive children and kidnap them, bringing them to Mustafar for some sort of program to use them probably not too unlike how he uses the Inquisitors later. That plan is foiled by the Jedi, the babies are returned to their families, and Sidious' plans fall through, but that doesn't really change the outcome. tl:dr: I don't think Palpatine gets enough credit as a villain whose plans shift and change along with the new events that happen, just as much as the heroes' plans shift and change when new things happen. Yeah, he's a great villain because he creates an impossible trap for people, but also because the thing about him is that he's incredibly charming and charismatic and he knows an opportunity when he sees one, that any one given plan might fall through, but it's not necessary to his overall plot.
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cemeterything · 23 hours
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must know ur thoughts on chilchuck tims if you care to share them. he is so so interesting 2 me i need to like ??? trap him in a controlled environment and take ten pages of notes on his behavior
chilchuck!!! chilcharles. mr tims. i have soooooo many thoughts about him; i think he's got so much depth worth exploring in spite of being less of a focal character for much of the story. i also think it's both very funny and a little frustrating how often people take him at face value. which isn't to say that it doesn't make sense, because he works pretty hard to try to convince you to do so. but he's so much more complex than he makes himself out to be. the impression i got from him is that he's definitely been hurt in some extremely deep-cutting, personal ways in the past - not even necessarily by any particular individual, but definitely by the common misconceptions about half-foots based on their stature. endure enough discrimination, and you're not going to be placing your trust in anyone very easily, or allowing yourself to get too attached, especially when that discrimination focuses on how vulnerable and powerless you are comparatively. chilchuck denies his attachment to his friends and loved ones because it scares him; because he knows how easily it can be used against him. he's had no choice but to harden his heart because it's the only way to get people to take him seriously. he can't just drop his guard and let himself relax, no matter how nice and well-intentioned his companions may seem - those good intentions can do just as much, if not more, harm to him and his reputation. he has to have dignity, and if that means misrepresenting himself as a mean, hateful, bitter person who hurts others if they get too close to him, then better that than suffering the humiliation of helplessness again, or realising that he's been taken advantage of for all he's worth. he needs to prove to everyone how capable and self-reliant he is, so that he doesn't risk having that independence stripped from him. so he denies himself, and avoids personal questions, and acts tough, and lashes out. and then the touden party sees right through him, and they stay. they learn to respect his boundaries even if they don't always entirely understand them. they leave the door open for him. and eventually, with much coaxing and false starts and two-steps-forward-one-step-back hesitation, chilchuck allows himself to step across the threshold and open his heart to his desire to be loved again. which doesn't personally affect me in any kind of way because i have nothing at all wrong with me whatsoever.
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AITA for being honest about what I would change about my boyfriend?
🥊🥊
I’m a cis guy (22m) and I have a boyfriend that’s transgender (20m). We’ve been together for 2 years.
My boyfriend is a very cute guy and he gets hit on a lot in queer spaces tbh. even by lesbians, and they fully see him as a guy. He’s just very sweet and approachable I guess. A lot of people tell him he’s super attractive and I agree, but there are just certain things about his body that don’t appeal to me.
We were at a friend’s birthday party. People got drunk, I was tipsy. We played this game that was like cards with questions about relationships/love/intimacy on them and the whole group would discuss.
One of the questions was something along the lines of "If you could change anything about your partner, what would it be?" Or whatever.
Now, I went first and said I’d probably make him less hairy and get rid of the dark spots in his crotch area and his acne scars. He has some discoloration around his private areas from a rash he got when he was like 13 and some faint scarring from pimples I guess. It’s not an issue, but definitely not my preference. Plus he can’t really shave clean down there because he has thick hair and it always makes him get those razor burn bumps or whatever. Fine by me, he’s hot as hell either way.
Plus, he has a lot of discoloration around his shoulders, back, chest and face from severe acne outbreaks from his puberty and then later again when he started taking testosterone. It’s calmed down a lot, but the scarring is still very prominent. It’s not an issue, just not very pretty to look at.
Please don’t get me wrong. He’s an incredibly attractive person, I just wish his skin was a little prettier. It’s a bit of a turnoff, that’s all. It never stopped me from being absolutely enamored with him.
But when I explained this, a little less explicitly than this of course, the group went dead silent. Everyone was staring at me, some of the girls even clasped their hands over their mouths etc.
When I looked at my boyfriend he was completely pale and was just blankly staring at me before getting up and saying he needs to pee. I just said okay and then gave the card to the person next to me. She very quietly said she’d take away her girlfriend’s anxiety because it hurts her to see the person she loves like that. That’s when it sort of dawned on me that I messed up and that I was way out of line for saying these things in front of our friends.
He apparently left soon after that, which I only found out through a friend. I was a little confused but figured he was just a little embarrassed. We don’t live together, so it isn’t unusual for one of us to leave before the other. But then I found out that his best friend left with him because he was sobbing and couldn’t stop.
I tried calling him and texting him for multiple hours and didn’t want to overstep any boundaries by just popping up at his home, so I gave up and eventually went home. That was two days ago and I still haven’t heard from him. He’s usually a very clingy and noisy person and always sends me small updates throughout the day, but I haven’t heard anything from him the entire time.
I’m so scared. I love this guy so much, he’s the sweetest and the single most interesting person I’ve ever met in my life. I know he has a lot of severe insecurity issues around his body, especially regarding his scarring. But it’s all gotten a lot better in recent months and he even began to love how hairy he is because it makes him feel euphoric.
Now I can’t help but feel like I took that away from him because of some stupid game. But at the same time, I don’t think it was fair for him to just up and leave without talking to me. We could’ve talked it out and I just wish he would communicate with me.
I already know I was a bit out of line for this, but I just tend to be uncomfortably honest. He knows this and loves me for it, so I’m confused why he’s THIS upset about this one. He’s never gone this long without talking to me.
Am I the asshole? I was just playing the game. I don’t think it’s fair to call me cruel for this just because other people are scared to be honest and say shit like they’d take away their partner’s mental illness. It’s so fake and that shit just pisses me off. Everyone has something they would change about their partner’s appearance.
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minisugakoobies · 9 hours
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Cross My Heart | KMG
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Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy
Word Count: 5.2k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.
Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face
A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅
Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
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It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 
Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 
Fucking jet lag got you anyway.
Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.
Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 
So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.
It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 
He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.
It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.
Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 
You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 
Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 
It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-
A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.
Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 
Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 
A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.
Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 
Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 
After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 
You: Can’t sleep
Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up
Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?
You: What?
Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos
Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 
You: Shut up
Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered
You: Oh fuck off
Mingyu: No really, I am
Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad
Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.
You: Idk what you’re talking about
You:  It was an accident
Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 
You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?
Mingyu: I mean yeah
You snort. 
You: You’re ridiculous
Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it
You: I’ll give you that
A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.
When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 
Mingyu: What else will you give me?
And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 
Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”
You: I don’t know
You: What do you want?
Mingyu: What if I say you?
Suddenly you don’t understand words.
You: Why would you say that?
Mingyu: Because it’s my answer
Mingyu: I’m being honest again
You: That’s the jet lag talking
Mingyu: Oh come on
Mingyu: You really don’t know?
You: Know what??
Mingyu: How I feel about you
Is he being serious right now??
You: If this is a joke I don’t get it
Mingyu: Not a joke
Mingyu: Hold on
The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 
Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you
Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.
You: You’re so annoying, oh my god
Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?
Mingyu: Or flirting with me?
You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?
Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know
Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time
You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time
Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you
Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 
You: You’re so dumb
Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?
You: Who said I’m pretending?
Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this
Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad
You: Shut uppppp
Mingyu: Go on, yell at me
Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad
You: No really
You: I can’t stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 
You: What?
Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.
You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.
You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 
Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious
Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 
Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.
You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 
Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?
You: Don’t tease me
Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one
You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  
You: You’re really serious?
Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die
Mingyu: Between your legs
Again you laugh.
You: You’re such an idiot
Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?
You: Like right now??
Mingyu: Why not? 
Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring
Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself
You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 
You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon
In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 
You: I could come over
Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you
Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over
You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.
Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you
What else is there to say to that but -  
You: I’m coming over
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It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 
“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 
“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 
“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 
It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.
He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 
It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 
Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off
He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 
“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 
“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 
“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”
“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 
Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.
But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  
He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “
‘Gyu, please!”
“Please what?” 
He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 
Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 
“I want what you promised me.” 
“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 
“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.
“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 
He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  
“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 
With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 
“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 
Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  
“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 
“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 
You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.
Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 
“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 
He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 
“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 
When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 
“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 
With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.
“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  
Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 
You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 
As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.
“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 
“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 
The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 
If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 
You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 
“‘Gyu, please.” 
At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 
When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 
“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 
Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.
Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 
His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 
“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 
Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 
“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 
And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 
“It’ll be something like this.” 
He withdraws his hand.
“Gyuuuuuu.”
If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 
“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”
You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 
“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 
Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 
Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 
“Kiss me.” 
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.
The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 
“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 
“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”
“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 
Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 
“Pretty… don’t say that….”
“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 
No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.
When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 
“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 
His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”
“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  
His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 
Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.
Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 
“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 
“I might have some ideas.” 
He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.
“Tell me what you want, pre-”
A sharp rap on the door startles you both.
“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 
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If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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bloodsbane · 1 day
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what i love about laios is that he's actually very good at putting puzzle pieces together BUT HERE'S THE THING 1) he needs to HAVE the information, and 2) (this is important) he needs to KNOW it is information he should care about
and i think this could be said of anyone but the thing with laios is that people tend to view his lack of awareness wrt social etiquette and memory problems as pure indifference and/or obliviousness; sometimes they misinterpret his motives based on their inaccurate expectations of him and therefore don't give his thoughts on a subject the credit he deserves
one of the most obvious examples of this happens at least twice in the manga as i remember it, but the most recent incident was when they were trying to resurrect falin. there's a moment where laios mentions reconstructing both of the warg skeletons, as their bones are mixed in with hers. both chilchuck and senshi balk at this, with chilchuck complaining aloud, questioning laios' priorities,
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and laios quickly, angrily retorts. his reason for making the suggestion is perfectly logical and practical, but because his friends are used to his interest in monsters influencing his judgement, often in ways they see as frivolous or dangerous, they don't come to the same conclusion. one which i'd argue is kind of obvious considering the situation
we see it again during his fight with toshiro, where toshiro demands to know what laios plans to do to save falin. laios takes a minute to answer, but he DOES answer, following the logic that if falin is a chimera because of (and controlled by) the mad mage, then the logical next step is to confront/defeat/usurp them
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then in the following episode, when chilchuck brings it up again, laios explains what he (now) knows about thistle, mentioning that he's the same elf that laios saw in the living paintings, which is why he knows thistle's connection to delgal. the party reacts like this:
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i'd say this is an example of them feeling frustration over laios' habit of having 'bad timing', not knowing when or how to speak at appropriate moments. theyre judging him for not saying something earlier, as if he already knew all this but didn't think to mention it when it was relevant, when the reality is that laios only just now had all the pieces he needed to understand the full picture
and i mention this bit specifically because i think it's a great way to explain what i mean by point 2: laios needs to know when information is important and worth considering
which, again, feels fucking obvious. but as someone who ALSO has debilitating issues with remembering important shit, i find this particular element of it pretty relatable and critical to my overall point. it's not laios' fault that he didn't know who thistle was or his significance - why the hell would he assume that a person he met in a living painting, presumably long since dead in reality, should be someone who's face, name, or motives he keeps in mind?
ultimately, i guess what i'm trying to say with all this is that the way others treat laios' intelligence is not congruent to how actually smart he is. one of the things i love most about laios, what is possibly his biggest strength and the reason he is such a great protagonist, is that laios is willing to think things through and find the most logical conclusion to a problem, no matter how outlandish or dangerous or seemingly impossible that conclusion may be. sister got eaten? race back down to go get her. can't afford food? fight, defeat, and eat dangerous monsters. sister's fully digested? use black magic to bring her back. now she's a chimera? defeat the mage controlling her and use that power to fix it.
anyways. what was even my point with this post? i guess it is that laios is smart, at least as smart as anyone else in the cast, arguably smarter than some. he is intelligent and utilizes that intelligence in many ways, not JUST when it comes to monster info (though that is his best and sexiest brand of knowledge)
and also please be nice to your friends with memory problems. it's rough out here for forgetful bitches
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ashwhowrites · 20 hours
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Hey you!
I have an Eddie fluff request - he's in love with his best friend and has no idea she secretly feels the same, too chicken to tell her, but one night when she sleeps over at his, in the same bed he whispers everything he can't say in words, no idea that she's actually awake, hearing everything. So she starts "falling asleep" everywhere to have him tell her more about how much he loves her and when he voices concern about her being so tired "perhaps you need some vitamins supplement?" she confess that she has only pretended to hear him tell her he loves her, because she was chicken too
Very cute fluff! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Bedtime whispers
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Eddie fell in love with his best friend over the years. They met in high school and connected instantly. Eddie felt safe around her and she was his protector. Whenever he got bullied, she saved the day. It was hard not to be smitten with her.
But he would never admit that to her. He finally had someone in his life that he refused to lose. She meant more than a friend to him. He valued their friendship and would hate himself if he ruined it. She was an amazing girl and he wanted to keep his claws in her.
Everyone else saw what he saw, which meant he had to bite his tongue whenever she dated someone or was interested in someone. It made his stomach drop and everything inside of him hurt. Luckily, the boys never lasted, he might have been the reason but she didn't need to know that.
With how close they were, they always had sleepovers. It was one of Eddie's favorite things they did together. They talked all night, watched movies, and ate everything Wayne bought that week. He loved laying next to her and feeling her warmth. He loved tangling their legs together underneath the covers and her head on his chest. He couldn't help but wish it lasted forever. As she dreamed, he daydreamed of marrying her and growing old.
~
Eddie turned off the lamp as they cuddled into bed. His back hit the mattress and she cuddled into him. Her head was on his chest as she sighed in delight. There was a comforting feeling Eddie provided and his smell was like a hug.
Eddie heard her breathing get softer and her body gets heavy. It was normal for her to fall asleep first. Eddie always struggled but he didn't mind laying still for her to cling on to. He looked down at her and softly ran his fingers through her hair.
"Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret from your other half?" Eddie whispered. She was asleep and he needed to say everything on his chest so he could sleep.
"It's hard. When I look at you, I wish I could say what's on my mind. I wish I could tell you how I fell in love with you and keep falling."
Y/N hoped he couldn't feel how fast her heart was racing. She didn't want him to know she was awake, so she stayed still. After a few seconds, he began to softly snore.
~
Y/N never stopped thinking about Eddie's confession. She felt the same as he did but was always too scared to say something. She thought it was funny that they both felt the same and were too chicken to say anything about it.
She wanted to hear more, she wanted to hear every thought Eddie had about her. So, she decided to "fall asleep" a few times to see what he had to say.
"Tired?" Eddie asked, Y/N faked a yawn and placed her head in Eddie's lap. The movie she already had seen a thousand times played in the background. She didn't mind to miss it as she closed her eyes.
"A bit," she lied, humming softly when Eddie began to play with her hair. Y/N tried to slow down her breathing to show that she was asleep.
She listened to the movie as time passed.
"You asleep?" Eddie whispered
Y/N stayed silent and tried not to smile as Eddie softly touched her face.
"You have the prettiest skin, I always think about caressing your cheek, and placing my lips on yours. It's hard not to stare and think about it when you apply lip gloss. Your lips memorize me." Eddie whispered as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
~
Y/N kept it going.
Week after week she "fell asleep" to listen to him.
"Your eyes are my favorite"
"I love how easy you fit in my arms"
"You have the sweetest perfume and I love that it lingers on my sheets"
"I get jealous when guys ask you out"
"I'm in love with you and I always will be"
"No one comes close to you"
"If I ever got the courage, I'd ask you to marry me"
~
"Tired again? Do you need to see a doctor or take something?" Eddie asked, he was concerned by how much she seemed to need to sleep.
"What?" Y/N laughed as she looked up from Eddie's lap.
"You've been tired lately. I'm concerned somethings off with your health." Eddie explained, his hands working through her hair.
"Oh, I don't think it's anything to stress about," Y/N tried to brush him off but he looked worried.
"Is there something going on at home?"
Y/N sighed and sat up.
"Eddie, look," she said, "I've been pretending to sleep because I like hearing things you say about me."
Eddie looked like a deer in headlights. The terror was clear to see on his face.
"I love you too, and I've been too scared to say it. And hearing you confess everything to me, even if you thought I was sleeping, I want you to know what I love about you." She said as she placed herself in Eddie's lap.
He swallowed and nervously wrapped his arms around her.
"I love your hair, your soft eyes, I've dreamed of kissing your lips," her thumb traced his bottom lip, "I love your jokes, your dirty mind, and how creative you are. An-"
But Eddie heard enough, she confessed she felt the same and he didn't want to wait another second. He placed his hand on the back of her head and brought her lips to his. He moaned as she finally felt the feeling of her lips against his. She tasted like a dream.
Y/N whimpered as she lost her hands in his hair, the kiss deepening as Eddie took control of the kiss. He picked her up and moved her on her back. Their lips connected as he settled on top of her and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
"Fuck," Y/N moaned as Eddie pulled away, their lust-filled eyes staring at each other.
"Agreed," Eddie panted out
"Do it again," Y/N demanded as she pushed Eddie's head back down. He gladly listened, his tongue working inside of her mouth as his hands moved up her thighs and landed underneath her shirt. His fingers caused goosebumps to rise on her skin.
Eddie tested the waters as he rocked his hips into her, his cock twitched as she whimpered and moved her hips back. They were so lost in each other, their bodies hungrily moving against each other. Their tongues battled and Eddie grabbed her free hand to bring it down to his pants. She got the hint and rubbed him over his sweatpants.
"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!"
The couple jumped apart, Eddie gulped as Wayne stood over the couch with his hands over his eyes. Y/N refused to look at him, staring at Eddie.
"I'm glad you two figured this out finally, but please Eddie keep it behind your bedroom door." Wayne declared before he walked off into his room.
Eddie looked down at Y/N with a nod, "So bedroom?"
Y/N scoffed as she reached and smacked Eddie with a pillow. "You are an idiot."
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Tags!
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mwahsturns · 2 days
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📝 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - MATT STURNⵊOLO
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professor!matt sturniolo x student!reader
Contains: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing/A lot of praise/teasing/flirting/pet names/ unprotected sex/aftercare/fluff. Semi-proof read! And I think that’s it let me know if there’s more.
Synopsis: you’re an 18 year old freshman in college and you’ve always been in love with writing, your whole life you’ve always been hiding behind your books and your writing. You decided you wanted to go to college because you knew you wanted to become something with your writing, you’ve always had big dreams about your work and you knew you could do it. But one day you find out your regular professor had quit his job because of an injury and you were getting a new teacher. What happens when the new professor offers to get you a head making sure you make it where you need to be?, and you end up fucking your new professor.. Mr sturniolo.
Author’s note: i’m doing a collab with @iluvmattsbeard! go check out her version of the reader being the professor! this is my version where Matt is being the professor! i’m so so excited I had the opportunity of working on this with her. she is so so sweet and absolutely talented. i want everyone to show her some love and support because she deserves it! And please enjoy. 💗
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* *:・゚✧🏩*:・゚✧
Today has been interesting to say the least, our regular teacher professor Charles quit due to an injury in his knee causing him to have surgery and he probably won’t be able to walk again. I as I walked into the classroom I see I’m the only student here, as I’m putting my stuff down I hear someone walk in.
I swear I felt my heartbeat when I looked behind me, there he was professor sturniolo I only know his name because it’s on his desk but not the point. God he looked so fucking sexy his hair wasn’t messy but it looked so effortlessly fluffy and he had these black glasses that framed his face perfectly, he also had a little blue ish button up shirt but it was slightly opened to where you could see his gold chain. He had some rings on and a watch on his right hand, his beige pants perfectly showed his cock just looking made my mouth water.
Fuck his beard too god this man was a whole walking sex object, I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts by his voice. ‘Hey your early” he says smiling ‘yea I’m always early’ I place my bag on my chair and sit on top of my desk with my leg placed on to of the other one. I noticed him look me up and down and I looked and saw my skirt has lifted a little bit. I was wearing a black and white long sleeve shirt, my cleavage Showing as my necklace sits perfectly on my chest. My skirt was short and plaid with some short sorta see through white socks and some black buckled heals.
‘Cute outfit” he winks and goes to write the agenda on the board, I smile and turn on my heels and sit on my desk and nibble on my pen smirking as I watched him. Eventually everyone started walking into the class and my best friend heather ran over to me and sitting next to me, ‘dude the new professor is so sexy!’ She smiles and as takes her books out, ‘I know we talked this morning’ I smirk as I take a sip of my water. ‘No wonder you’re in the front of the class’ we laugh as we hear professor sturniolo start to speak.
‘Okay guys so as you know professor Charles is out so I’m your new teacher, I’m Mr sturniolo and today’s assessment should be easy you need to write a short story about anything you’d like and share it to the class.’ He smiles and writes it on the board, ‘you guys have the next hour to write it then I’ll have all of you share yours with the class’ oh I got this in the bag I thought as I started writing.
————
The hour is up and he stands in front of the class as he gets ready to announce who goes first, I feel him starting at me as he starts to smirk. ‘You first’ he smirks as he tilts his head looking deeply into my eyes, ‘’me?’ I say confused. ‘Your names Y/n isn’t it?’ He says sassily, ‘yes sir it is’ I say with the same amount of sas ‘well then the floors yours’ he smiles and sits at his desk. I grab my paper and walk the the front of the class flatting my shirt as I begin to read, ‘We shall start with a secret couple, their names is professor Lucas, and a student named Sophia. The two are secretly in love but has yet to expose it to the world so let’s dive deep into their life styles before things get intimate…’ I say smiling as I continue to read.‘Sofia is a very pretty girl, amazing personality, great style, she is a phenomenal actress and she has a great judge of Character and if we need to speak about her body we can say that she has some amazing ideal curve and her face sits perfectly.
‘Professor Lucas is a great guy with amazing humor and he does a phenomenal job at teaching, (that’s what turns Sophia on) he cares for his class and he truly is the person you couldn’t hate even if you tried. Jumping in Sophia walks into lecture hall, looking a little bit more Expensive or extravagant, she is wearing her Golden necklace that says her name in a cursive writing a white button up long sleeve crop top tied at the bottom with a tripled white skirt and some white heals. (she truly loves the color white, she feel it enhances her look more) as sophia Is carrying her books, Professor Lucas takes notice and says ‘ah Ms Raven, please have a seat in the front for me.’ He says pointing out the seat closes to him smiling. Sophia walks down to take a seat and sets her notebooks down and gets her Mac-book out of her bag to place it elegantly on her desk.
Professor looked down and said ‘good morning sweetheart, why are you late?’ As Sophia looks up into his amazing beautiful emerald eyes and smiled saying ‘I woke up late sir’ she knows calling him Sir makes him feel respected and satisfied, ‘hmm see me after class young lady…’ as he continues the lecture. As the day goes on classes come to an end, which reminds Sophia to go meet with professor. As she arrived she placed a firm knock on the door and patiently waited for him to come and answer, in less than a minute the professor answered the door and said ‘Ms raven please come in’ as he smiled looked outside the door before closing it too lock it. He looked at her with a romantic expression. ‘I want us to get intimate, we’ve been kissing secretly hanging out for a while but now, I want to show you that I’m ready for another step and that is showing you that I want to dominate you and show you how much I love you in a different way’ ‘I’d figure you’d get the hook’ the professor looks confused when she says that and says ‘what do you mean?’ As he steps a little closer toward her, ‘I mean I’ve been wearing the slutty things to lure you in or to make you want to fuck me, I wanted to show you that I’m ready for the next step but I was just to afraid to ask.’
The professor steps closer to her them almost touching noses as he says ‘Mama you don’t gotta be nervous or afraid, if you want me to give it to you just ask me. I won’t even hesitate’ professor says as he slowly cuffed her Chin and pulled her into an intimate kiss inhaling deeply as it escalated.
Sophia continues the kiss for a few more moments before breaking it wrapping her hand in his tie, ‘I want you’ sounding a little breathless turning the professor on more. ‘I know you do baby’ the professor said gently brushing his hand down the side of her face, ‘lay down, and open your legs for me’ Sophia proceeds to do so as the professor smiled and watched, As she finished doing what he asked he then spoke ‘good girl’ as he then walked closer to her then sliding his fingers up her inner thigh to tease her already wet pussy. he rubbed his thumb around her clitoris teasing even more before gently sliding off her white see through lingerie panties. He took off his shirt revealing his soft skin and muscular chest.
sniffing the panties and throwing them to the side, he licked his middle and ring finger before rubbing her clitoris once again before loosing his belt and took of his cargo baggy black jeans revealing his huge cock print in his underwear. he took her hand and rubbed it around his print moaning and groaning a little. And just know you aren’t going nowhere….’ As I finished reading this class started clapping, I look at Matt to see him smirking arms crossed god he looks perfect.
‘Great job mrs L/N and um can you see me after class?’ I smiled and nodded my head as I walked back to my seat.
———-
Class ended and I’m packing up my stuff as I hear heather start talking, ‘girl your paper was so good like ugh i felt the emotion and I think professor sturniolo liked it too’ she winks putting on her backpack. ‘Who knows but I’ll see you after?’ ‘Duh ofc you will’ I laugh putting on my backpack, soon everyone leaves and I walk up to the professors desk. ‘You wanted to speak with me?’ I say smiling, ‘yea I did um your writing is so excellent your a very talented young lady’ he smiled leaning forward on the desk. ‘Well it is my specialty’ I smirk ‘mmh we’ll keep up the good work’ he smiles packing up his stuff ‘Will do!’ I laugh as I leave his class.
professor Sturniolo has been here for about two weeks now and to say I’ve got him wrapped around my finger is an understatement to say the least, he’s has been favoriting me for weeks now always giving me extra credit and pushing back deadlines for me I didn’t think anything of it until now.
‘Girl he’s so into you!’ Heather says as we enter the empty class, ‘I don’t know..’ I mean if that was true god it would fuel my sexual fantasies so much. ‘I’m telling you it’s a matter of time before he fucks you’ heather and I take our seats up front as professor sturniolo walks in, ‘good morning Y/N morning heather’ he says giving me this irresistible look that makes me just want him ‘Good morning’ I smile.
As I’m writing our notes for an essay coming up in feel him walk up to my desk as he wisphers in my ear ‘see me after class’ he says as he walks back to his desk. I can’t lie that did make me aroused I know it’s wrong but it also feels right.
————
As everyone left the class I see the smirk growing on his face as the class grows empty. Once the class is completely empty he stands up from his chair and leaned his back against his desk as his arms were crossed, ‘you know you’re a very special young lady..’ ‘mmh you think’ I smirk teasing him a little. ‘I do.. very much the work you’ve turned in has been exceptional your writing style is remarkable..” he walks over to my desk and leans down to my ear. ‘And i must say you’re a very beautiful girl..”
‘Thank you, I appreciate it’ I smile as he basically towers over me, ‘so you got a boyfriend?’ He says as he runs his hand through my hair ‘no.. what about you got a girlfriend or a wife?’ I say looking up at him. ‘Oh no it’s just me’ I mentally take note of that even though it shouldn’t matter to me ‘look your very talented and happen to be very beautiful and I want you to be more than just a basic writer you can be so much more’ he says sitting on the desk next to me ‘I know I’ve always believed I can do it I just wasn’t even sure how to start’ honestly I’m lying I know exactly why he’s saying all of this but I just wanna see how far he’ll take things.
‘Well how about this .. you help me and I’ll make sure you get right where you need to be’ he smirks ‘okay but how will I help you?’ I already know what he wants I just wanna tease him a little I’ve seen way to many teacher and student movies and books to not know. ‘What if you let me teach you a few things mmh? Fuck I can’t lie that did make me a little wet ‘mmh like what?’ I tease standing in his face, next thing I know I’m picked up and placed on his desk.
‘Let me please you..’ he says kissing my neck harshly. I can’t deny as the kiss gets longer the more I’m starting to crave more. He started kissing lower down my neck placing open mouthed kisses onto my breast, i tugged on his hair as his hand slid down into my skirt. ‘Well look at that my perfect student getting all wet for her professor huh such a slut..’ he says as he pulls down my skirt and my underwear harshly.
I bite my lip as I see him spit on his fingers I don’t know what has gotten into me but right now I need him in me, he takes his fingers and slide them into my dripping pussy as he gives me no time to adjust he fingers me very rough.
‘Oh my- fuck’ I moan throwing my head back biting my lip, ‘mmh feels good doesn’t it? He looks like a kid in a candy store the way he’s looking at my vagina right now. ‘fuck yes.’ He smiles at my response and stands up pulling his pants and boxers off and holy shit he’s fucking big.
‘That’s supposed to fit in me?!’ I actually am now kinda nervous, ‘mmh I’ll make it fit’ he walks back over to the desk and pulls my legs forward and now I’m laying down on his desk legs wide open how the fuck did I get here?. He slides into me and I swear to god I saw stars fuck he felt so good, ‘fuck your so tight’ he moaned pounding into me like he was getting a fucking pay check.
‘Oh fuck sir omg..’ I moaned maybe a little too loudly, ‘fuck-please call me Matt’ he tried to say as he let out a choked groan. God his name makes this 10x hotter. ‘Fuck Matt I’m so close’ I moan, ’yea cum on this dick baby’ his thrust getting faster but more deeper.
‘Fuck I’m gonna cum!’ I screamed ‘me too baby let it out mama’ he moaned as I came all over his dick and I felt his warm cum fill me. ‘Fuck you did so good for me’ he smiled kissing my lips softly, ‘I don’t think I can walk..’ ‘it’s okay I’ll clean you up’ he walks to his desk and gets a rag and wipes both of us down. Once were cleaned up and I’m standing he walked up to me and smiled. ‘Well I guess I’ll be fucking you more often huh?’ I smiled ‘oh definitely’.
I smiled and walked out of the classroom fuck he better give me a good grade for that.
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A/n: I hope you enjoyed plus Don’t hate this is my first smut ever so I’m so so sorry if it’s bad pls leave some tips in my inbox!
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heyclickadee · 2 days
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So, here’s the thing. The finale is weird. Yes, I’m hurt by the fact that Tech didn’t come back and that a character that’s very near and dear to my heart was badly handled, and that will never sit right with me. But even apart from that, the finale fundamentally does not function as a piece of storytelling or as the end to this story. I’m glad that people are enjoying it, and I will never tell anyone not to. But I don’t think it works. (I get very negative about the TBB finale under the cut.)
It’s not just the Tech stuff or the CX-2 stuff (which may very well have been the same stuff) that got dropped. It’s *everything*. Every theme, Every narrative thread besides retrieving Omega, every character arc except marginally Omega’s, Echo’s (also marginal), and Emerie’s, which was the shortest and gets wrapped up by her deciding to help Echo rescue the kids. It all stops. It makes everything that came before seem cheap and pointless if you take it into account. And this is so, so frustrating for me, because the entire show was driving towards this incredibly rich payoff, it could have been immaculate, and then it whiffed the ball so bad in the last episode that it didn’t just miss, it managed to knock over the bleachers and set the entire court on fire.
Some examples:
1. This season had a really interesting exploration of Crosshair’s PTSD via his hand tremor and how it was something he can learn to manage, but not something that would ever fully go away. Aaaaand then his hand gets chopped off. One, that was stupid. I’ve seen some excellent posts (here’s one by @the-bi-space-ace) detailing why that was a terrible way to handle Crosshair’s lingering trauma, and others talking about how the idea there was that Crosshair needed to move on and it was severing his last ties with the empire. The former, I agree with; the latter, I don’t, because not only—not only!—does this episode stop dealing with Crosshair’s trauma, it doesn’t even deal with having cut off his hand! It just sort of occurs. No one reacts to it, no one says anything about it, there’s no follow up or commentary, nothing happens as a result—it’s an event which occurs with no results coming after it. It may as well be an animation error. You can say it was about Crosshair needing to let go and move on, but that’s something you have to project on to the text, not something that’s actually offered by it. It’s empty.
2. Crosshair again: We also have the lingering issue of Crosshair’s guilt and the fact that he never seems to get to a point where it’s resolved. There’s set up for a resolution. We have that, “Sure you have,” like about Crosshair from Rampart. We also have Crosshair saying he deserves whatever happens to him in Tantiss. And then…no pushback. No resolution. No moment of Crosshair realizing that he doesn’t need to carry that burden. Nothing that says he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He had all this character development this season, but he needed - last little push to forgive himself—and we never get any indication that he does. It, like his trauma, gets dropped like a rock.
3. Hey! More Crosshair! A good chunk of Crosshair’s arc this season was about learning that anyone can change, first, and that no one is beyond saving. Eeexcept that goes no where.
4. Which brings me to my next point: There is set up for the CXs to be saved. Even if we’re laboring under the conclusion that CX-2 was never intended to be Tech at any point in the writing process (I have. Doubts. Yes, I’m calling the creative team liars, here, but with the understanding that they have contracts that may require them to lie), we do have the set up where we learn the electrocyanide zappers can be removed, and with Rex offering forgiveness to CX-1. “Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us.” CX-Tech or no, Crosshair’s arc was tied up with the CX plot, and because he’s the one the CXs tend to react to—or, at least, understands what was done to them—the set up was there for him to help save and maybe rehab the CXs. At the least, there was an indication that they could be saved. Eeexcept nope! That gets dropped like a rock, too, and they’re not going to deal with it. Time for maximum carnage.
5. Hunter’s arc actually takes a step backwards. Sure, he gets a technically happy ending, but because the squad is basically in the same place they were in “Pabu” back in season two (down a member but successfully hiding from the Empire in a safe place), it negates Hunter’s development towards actually taking action—and actually hurts Echo’s arc, too.
There’s been this tension all through the show between just sitting things out on the one hand (Hunter’s way) and taking direct action despite the futility on the other (Echo’s way), but instead of finding some kind of middle ground or third road, it sort of comes back around to saying that, actually, Hunter was right, they should have just gone to Idaflor back in episode three and never left even though the Pabu invasion said that no, you can’t just hide, and even Hunter’s development was moving in the opposite direction. And this also means that Echo never reaches a point where he feels like he can walk away and that he doesn’t have to get himself killed doing this. Despite development otherwise they both end up back at that conversation in “Tipping Point” without any move in either direction or resolution of that tension.
6. Omega. Okay, Omega probably comes out the best after the finale, and, conceptually, I actually love the idea of Omega becoming a pilot even if the epilogue falls a little flat for me. But stuff with Omega still got dropped, including:
- The force stuff. We have two episodes dealing with m-count (after learning in episode three what Omega was created to do). We also have Ventress telling Omega that she doesn’t have a high m-count as far as she can see, Crosshair immediately calling Ventress out for lying, and then Ventress basically saying, “Yeah, no shit, but if she has force potential she’d have to leave you behind, and it doesn’t matter what your opinion on that is, so I’m not dealing with that.” Aaaand then,m. That. Goes nowhere. Despite a bit of set up for Omega connecting to the force as early as episode one, and some more set up in Tribe, and that whole subplot of her learning how to meditate, and so on.
Now, I don’t think that it was ever going to turn out that Omega did actually have a high m-count or that she had a particularly powerful natural connection to the force. I think she’s probably got a low or baseline m-count. What I do think, however, is that we were going to see Omega connect anyway as a refutation of Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire scheme. Their goal (based off of the ST) was to create extremely force sensitive clones as a way for Palpatine to jump bodies without having to waste time re-learning how to connect to the force. You know—dark side, quick and easy path, focus on eugenics and raw power, etc. Had Omega connected anyway because of her big heart and desire to protect, it would have not only paid off that set up, it would have also refuted Palpatine’s and Hemlock’s entire goal. It would have worked so well thematically and the set up was THERE.
- branching off of that, I think the Omega force stuff was probably tied to the Zillo beast. We also had a through-line of Omega being good with animals and taking the time to calm them instead of responding with violence. The first time we see this is in “Replacements,” where she realizes that the ordo moon dragon (also an electrophage—I don’t know what to call these things—like the zillo beast) is just scared and hungry. This is all conjectural, but it still fits with what was set up.
- Moving on from the force stuff, we also had a through-line that started way back in episode two of the series, but which was really emphasized this season, about Omega feeling like she’s the cause of the bad things that happen to the people she loves. This is why she gives herself up during the Pabu invasion in the first place. This is never resolved! We get Omega’s confidence boost when she realizes she has the force kids to take care of, but we never get a moment where Omega realizes that she has no reason to feel guilty. She’s the glue that holds the family together! But nope! Also dropped!
- But wait! There’s more! The first two season finales have Omega watching someone she loves fall away while she’s helpless to do anything to save them. That’s perfect set up to put Omega in the same situation, but be able to save them, because she’s finally come into her own. Instead we just end up with her needing to be rescued again.
- Omega has this big speech in Shadows of Tantiss about spending her life stuck in one place or another against her will, and how she refuses to be confined like that. I don’t think Omega would have been happy just staying on Pabu for the entire rest of her childhood and young adult life, even if I think she’d want to use it on a home base. But! Dropped!
7. I still can’t get over the fact that the zillo beast is on screen for about two minutes and then just. Walks away. It’s a large beastie that’s been locked in confinement for a while and is probably hungry. And somehow it didn’t go straight to the reactors for some delicious energy smoothies. Like. It. Did. The. Last. Time. Someone. Let. It. Out. But no, that would have required it sticking around for something that was probably dropped sooooo ZILLO BEAST EXIT STAGE RIGHT I GUESS.
8. You notice how there are a ton of commandos around Tantiss, even up through “Flash Strike?” And how they kind of largely cease to exist? And how Echo says that there are far more clones imprisoned in Tantiss than anyone thought? And then how they rescue, like, a dozen guys? Because we never find our way back to those cells Crosshair was held in during season two? And how Tarkin does mention not wanting to allow clone dissidence to turn into an uprising back in “The Summit?” Because I did. This show was never going to be about a clone rebellion, that wasn’t the point, buuut I do think the set up was there for an uprising at Tantiss itself. Begin the series with clones losing their agency en masse, end the series with some of the most subdued clones taking it back. Except nope, dropped, soooo we gotta pretend the commandos don’t exist and murder the hell out of poor Scorch.
9. SPEAKING OF. The batch does kill clones sometimes, that does happen, but they do at least usually make some kind of effort to be non-lethal even when they’re not using stun, and times when they do resort to lethal tactics are usually born out of extreme circumstances. Not here, though!! NO HESITATION MAXIMUM CARNAGE. For. Reasons I guess.
10. There’s one point IN THE FINALE where Echo mentions signaling for Rex. This never comes up again. Rex does not show up. In fact, despite being called, “The Cavalry Has Arrived,” the cavalry does not in fact arrive. There is no cavalry. Yes, I know it’s a reference to Wrecker’s first line. But I’m sorry if you call an episode that YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A CAVALRY SHOW UP. Especially when you have a one about calling them in! But that also!! Got dropped like a rock!!
11. One positive: the moment Crosshair and Hunter leaning on each other to make that shot was nice.
12. Sorry, but Hemlock’s death was deeply unsatisfying. Let’s do something more than just shoot him multiple times, okay?
13. Rampart’s death, on the other hand, was incredibly satisfying. That said, the conversation about project necromancer? I’m dying. It’s actually hilarious, because it basically goes like:
“Tell me about project necromancer.”
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“Wow! How interesting!”
I’m.
Are you serious?
I’m going to become the Joker.
Yes, I know we know what project necromancer is because of a different show. That’s not the point, the POINT. Is that any pay off for project necromancer in this show got dropped. And that’s deeply frustrating from a narrative perspective.
14. Speaking of, we never find out anything more regarding that partially successful m-count transfer from episode three.
15. We also never do anything with those medical records!
16. And Omega has a whole crossbow she never actually shoots despite the fact that her role on the team was as a sharpshooter after Crosshair left, and despite her getting advice from Crosshair on how to be a sniper. The literal chekov’s gun never goes off. I’m going to go eat gravel.
17. AZI, likewise, got toted around for three seasons for no reason. Probably could have helped with the medical records. Given that he was a Kaminoan medical droid. Oh, and that Omega was Nala Se’s medical assistant. So. Hmm.
18. You can cut everything in the season past episode five and skip straight to the epilogue and end up in the same place. This is not because the other episodes are filler. Far from it! The other episodes are great and deliver some amazing set up. But, because the finale does nothing with that set up, it doesn’t go anywhere.
The finale is, in a word, filler. It’s the only true filler episode in the show.
19. And you know what else? From a narrative perspective, there’s no reason for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair to be in these episodes at all. They don’t accomplish anything and make everyone else’s job harder. Omega was doing fine, she would have gotten out with the kids with just Echo and Emerie, and Tarkin was coming to cut off Hemlock’s funding and shut everything down once Hemlock lost control of the facility anyway. I can only suppose that the whole reason they were in this episode ended up getting dropped, too.
20. CX-2. Listen, the answer we get about CX-2 isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “Maybe, maybe not—you don’t get to know.” Because. He’s the only CX whose mask never comes off. After a season and a half worth of buildup of unmasking CXs and people pressing them to learn their names. It’s not a no, it’s a non-answer, which is far less satisfying.
And finally:
21: CX-Tech. I’ve seen some people speculating that there was a planned CX-Tech reveal that got scrapped at the last minute—dropped, along with the other points I’ve already laid out. And, honestly? I have to agree. Despite what the creative team says, because even their denials kind of come out weird (like the Kiners saying that the large brass chord in “Battle of the Snipers” was just a nice sounding brass chord and not a reference to “Plan 99.” They also basically say that the sacrifice theme from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif. Which. Is all over “Battle of the Snipers.” That theme. Not Crosshair’s. In a scene. Where he’s supposed to be fighting a shadow of himself who Totally Isn’t Tech but we put Tech’s leitmotif here and layered it in Techno music but nooo that was never supposed to be him. Nope. I mean, come on. I’m not stupid).This post is already long enough, so here are some posts by @apocalyp-tech-a pointing out the reasons why I think this was the case, and one by @eriexplosion pointing out why CX-2 as Crosshair’s shadow and only that doesn’t quite work. I don’t need to go over the trail that was laid out again. Up to the finale this was a character that had more screen time—and far more solo screen time—than Echo. Some people will not stop yelling that there was no evidence, and. No. I’m sorry, there was. I can’t agree.
And some people might say, well, okay, the show misdirected you guys and pulled off a twist by having CX-2 be no one, and well, I can’t agree with that either. Twists only function if the twist is more satisfying than the conclusion to which the story seems to be leading. And I’m sorry, you can’t tell me that a season and a half of CX building and three seasons (because I can find set up all the way back in episode one of the show) for Tech survival culminating in what amounts to a boss fight is more satisfying than getting to see Omega have her big brother back. You can’t.
The reason I bring this up last is because, yes, I think CX-Tech was a plot dropped at the last minute, but because I also think that it’s the dropped plot that ripped everything else apart. CX-Tech was an incredibly efficient way to tie up most of the lingering plot threads and dropped character development.
-Crosshair’s guilt? Okay, he faces down the end result of his decision to stay with the empire and possibly something he knew about (Tech would be in this situation because of Crosshair, and were given hints that Crosshair knew) and is finally able to forgive himself because they’re able to save him.
- Hunter’s decision to finally take action and be proactive rather than reactive is validated, because it’s the thing that finally gets him his entire family back.
- Echo saves someone the same way he was saved, and maybe he realizes that it is enough and that he doesn’t have to be a soldier forever.
- Wrecker’s efforts to keep the family together and keep Hunter sane finally pay off.
- Omega is able to protect the people she charges about and finally, finally has all of her brothers.
- Thematically, it rounds off each member of the batch (Omega included) traumatically losing and then taking back their agency in a way that correlates directly to who and how they are as people.
- It also rounds out the OG batchers each being haunted by a failure that has to do with the thing that makes them special.
- You get pushback against “Clone Force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” because no, it didn’t, and they’re more than a squad, they’re a family.
- It comes around and closes the wound opened in Aftermath and ripped back open by Return to Kamino: they go in for Omega and lose someone, but here, they go in for Omega and get someone back.
- Would allow Tech to close off his lingering threads and finish his character development BECAUSE THOSE REMAINED UNFINISHED.
- Completely subverts the “bury your disabled” trope by making sure we know the character whose disability was explored the most’s life is more important than his death. Seems like an important thing to do in a show that is kind of about disability. Just saying.
- Makes the lack of closure and little mentions of Tech make sense from a storytelling POV because the necessarily catharsis would come from his return.
- And it would actually add some triumph to the ending. Yes, this little family survived. They outlived the war. They’re together, despite every effort to rip them apart. They made it, despite the dark times, despite the Empire, despite what they were made to do and be. They defied all of that. That would have been so, so satisfying.
As is, without Tech, without that CX-Tech reveal, we sort of end up in this weird place where all the themes are half-baked. They are more than soldiers…except Tech, who had to fall out of the story as a soldier (despite us getting the clearest glimpse of what his life outside of soldiering could have been). They get to live how they want…except Tech. They don’t leave their own behind, except Tech that one time. They should value their own lives a little…except Tech. They’re more than a squad, they’re a family…except Tech, the only one besides Omega to say that’s what they are, doesn’t get to see it, and they don’t get to have him around. We begin the series with a broken family and end it with a family broken differently. That’s not dynamic.
So there’s no really punch to the ending. It’s sort of…well, okay, we tortured a family for three seasons I guess. Relieved that the survivors are doing okay, but that’s kind of it.
22. The finale in general is just sort of a bunch of events which happen, but which don’t lead into one other. It’s weird.
TL;DR: I think a lot of stuff got dropped from the finale. I don’t know why. I suspect that it might have to do with the strikes—basically, the script was done, most everything was recorded and boarded, and then when the finale was in production they got sudden drastic budget cuts (this was during a time when the studios were disappearing entire completed shows and movies as tax write-offs), had to gut what they had planned, and couldn’t bring the writers or even showrunners in to smooth over what was gutted or to even pick what got taken out. They wouldn’t have gotten to choose or compress things. They were on strike (because the studios wouldn’t negotiate), and whoever did choose ended up just ripping out the stuff that would actually take any time or budget to deal with (so, basically everything I laid out), killing it (literally), and using the remains of what they already had recorded. And who knows how they had to fill in gaps.
But I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was a last minute decision to take certain plot points and put them in a different show. Maybe it was executive mandate. Maybe the creative team just sucked the whole time (that’s one I have a hard time buying—we have four other shows and most of this one that tell me that they’re better at their jobs than this). Maybe everyone said screw it, who even cares anymore at the same time.
Maybe nothing happened. Who knows? I strongly suspect something bad did happen behind the scenes that was out of the creative team’s hands—I really do, because that’s the only way I can make sense of this—but until we can get someone talking without six layers of PR and NDAs, we won’t know for sure. All I know is that The Bad Batch is an amazing show with 46 episodes that range from “fine-but-clunky” to “IMMACULATE,” with more leaning towards immaculate than not, and some incredible set up, and one episode so nonsensically bad it makes me want to eat drywall.
It’s just that the one terrible episode comes right at the end.
I love The Bad Batch. I love every single episode and all the things that were set up, but…eh, I think I’ll be ignoring the finale until further notice.
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tarotwithlove · 3 days
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PAC ⭒ how to impress the person on your mind?
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reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.
BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!
GROUP ONE
cards · knight of cups, ace of wands, two of pentacles, the emperor, six of swords.
channelled songs · fast car by tracy chapman. bring the noize by nct 127. blood // water - awolnation remix by grandson. we raise our cups by hadestown original broadway company.
my dear group one ♡ the way to impress the person on your mind -- in fact, the way to their heart -- is through poetry and the arts.
in one way, this is through you expressing your interests in the poetry, books, film, and other forms of art that your person likes. asking them about the book they’re reading, or the movie they have on their shirt, or the anime pins they have on their backpack -- etcetera. art -- or a specific piece of media -- is important to your person, and they enjoy talking about it. your person will be impressed by you if you show genuine interest in the art they like and have a genuine conversation with them about it.
for example: you say, “oh, by the way i’ve started watching that series you like!” and they’ll immediately be excited and jump into asking you questions like, “what did you think about such and such? and just wait until you meet so and so!”
they will be impressed by how serious you take their recommendations. they will be impressed by your intellectual insights on the piece of art they recommended. and will also take this as an opportunity to find out more about what you like. to check out the art, or specific piece of media, that you like.
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GROUP TWO
cards · eight of cups, seven of wands, queen of cups, four of swords, five of pentacles.
channelled songs · i only wanted by mariah carey. green candle music by bbymutha. jolene by beyoncé. stranger by gaidaa, saba, jarreau vandal.
my dear group two ♡ there is honestly not that much you can do to impress the person on your mind.
this is either because they are not that interested in you, and, thus, will not be impressed by anything you try do, or they are simply easily impressed.
the food critic from ratatouille suddenly comes to mind. this man is quite dour and cuts a quite opposing figure. he is known to be a harsh critic and, thus, people are equal parts terrified and excited for him to visit their restaurants. a good review from him is rare, and little to nothing impresses him, except for that one specific meal made the specific way his mother made it.
your person is kind of like this. nothing truly impresses them. in some ways, they have been jaded, but it may be more so that they do not care about things like that. and that they lose respect for people who try hard to impress others instead of being authentic to themselves.
if you do anything with the sole intent to impress your person they would actually only lose respect for you. they would think of you as a poser. so just be your authentic self!
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GROUP THREE
cards · queen of swords, page of swords, four of pentacles, king of pentacles, king of wands.
channelled songs · monotonia b shakira & ozuna. crazy abot you by barbatos (va: masayuki harada). dead man walking by brent faiyaz. campfire by red velvet.
my dear group three ♡ focus on yourself! stop focusing on this person! your guides are basically screaming this at you. you need to stop putting this person on the pedestal and going out of your way to try and impress them.
the only person you should be putting on the pedestal is yourself. the only person you should be trying to impress is yourself.
whether this person is impressed by you or not doesn’t matter! are you impressed by you? are you constantly doing things to do better? be better? get stronger, or greater, or more efficient? are you constantly trying to improve? are you constantly putting yourself outside your comfort zone and finding ways to make yourself proud? are you constantly trying to surpass yourself? are you?!? well you should be!!
you should be more focused on making yourself proud. on doing things that make you, “i impress myself, i amaze myself.”
how impressed you are with yourself is far more important than how impressed this person is with you.
stop curating your life to impress others -- especially not to curate this specific person on your mind -- just be natural and live true to yourself. this is how you will leave your mark. this is how the right people will, of course, be impressed.
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GROUP FOUR
cards · the lovers, five of cups, ten of pentacles, nine of cups, seven of cups.
channelled songs · born to die by lana del rey. dna by kendrick lamar. lover for life by whitney houston. wwe by omega sapien & abdu ali.
hey there group four ♡ this message is going to be super short because the person on your mind is completely enamoured by you! honestly, you could do absolutely anything and they would be impressed by it.
they are honestly quite lovesick. quite smitten with you. especially for those of you who have been together for some time already.
you could show them how much you saved while grocery shopping and they would be as impressed as if you had turned straw into gold.
if you want to impress them some more though try and learn to do something out of the ordinary, like learning to juggle or walk on stilts! your person will find this so so fascinating and may even want to learn along with you.
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squerlly · 1 day
Text
Fair Exchange Chapter 1
------"whatever you cant receive on a spoon you'll lick off a knife"------
Alastor x (F! doe wife reader)
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The Doe ----------------------------------------------------
knocking on the door to Alastors office I walk in, holding a tray with a plate of venison and utensils "I made sure to cut off all of the parts you don't like" Setting it on his desk I take the tray "Thank you my dear" people have always asked me if it bothered me that my husband was a cannibal. although it can be a bit disturbing to most, after a while of living with Alastor and preparing his meals I have gotten quite used to seeing him eat meat like a wild animal.
turning I start to make my way out the door "Before you go...I have something I think you would be interested in" I turn to face him once more "Yes?" "on my outing yesterday I happened to stumble upon an advertisement for a hotel on the far side of the Pentagram, it was hosted by none other than Princess Morningstar" Princess Charlie Morningstar the king of hell's only daughter and heir to the throne. Alastor forbade any form of technology in his manor but occasionally when I make trips to cannibal town, there are always newspapers that tell what's going on in the pride ring. it did not take long for word to spread that the princess of hell made a hotel to redeem sinners.
"it has been the recent talk around the townspeople, what about it?" he sets his fork down, whipping the blood off his mouth with a napkin "Well I have decided to pay a visit and offer some.... assistance~" I raise an eyebrow in suspicion, Alastor never offers "assistance" to anyone unless he gets something in return ten fold, I out of all people should know that. "I know you don't really get out much unless it's for errand's so I was thinking you could accompany me, if you want that is" "I would like that.." he stands up walking towards me handing me his empty plate "wonderful, pack your bag with any necessities and well be off in an hour"
he walks out of the office leaving me standing, Alastor never takes me anywhere with him. I have always stayed at the house tending to it until he gets back from his outings, it would be a nice change to stay someplace new. I head down to the kitchen, whipping it down and washing any dishes before walking upstairs to my bedroom. I packed lightly I didn't have many belongings, not that I needed to anyway, just the normal clothes and toiletry items and maybe a book or two.
I walk back downstairs, Alastor waiting for me at the door. "ready?" I nod and he snaps his fingers teleporting both of our bags to who knows where, he opens the door for me and we begin to walk down the streets of hell. demons make way scattering like roaches when they see Alastor and I can't blame them, Alastor was terrifying, his never-ending toothy smile, mysterious persona, and merciless reputation made him feared by all, its why he's the most powerful overlord.
However... no matter how scary and bad he can be he has his moments where he can be calm and charming, it's why so many women adore him and also the reason why I get so many nasty looks when I stand beside him. not many people know that the radio demon has a wife and its for the safety of me and the sake of him, even if people found out Alastor had a wife and kidnapped me to get to him I doubt it would benefit them.
I am nothing but another soul on his leash, being his wife is just a mere title. the only exception is that Alastor doesn't treat me like any ordinary soul he possesses. he never hurt me, touched me, or treated me with disrespect but as his wife, we never had anything romantic for each other. not that I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of anything romantic, after all, I don't hate Alastor but... I don't think he likes me very much at least not in that way.
we walk up a stone Path leading to a door with apples on painted glass, Alastor knocks on the door it opening before a girl with pale white skin and long blond hair peeks outside "Why hel-" the door closes interrupting him. She finally opens the door again "May I speak now?" she nods "You may" Alastor shakes her hand and with a cheery voice introduces himself walking inside while I follow shortly behind him. I looked around the hotel was not in the best condition but it was something.
A woman with a spear in her hand points it at Alastor stopping him in his tracks "I won't let you hurt anyone in this hotel you pompous cheesy talk show shit lord!" Alastor moves her spear giving her a threat before moving on, I'm surprised she's still alive.
the girl introduces herself as vaggie and the girl with blonde hair being Princess Charlie, although I have heard of her I wouldn't have imagined her to be so bright, her being almost doll-like and innocent. "so where is your hotel staff?" Charlie gives a nervous look before she points at vaggie "Uh huh ho, we're going to need more than that" he walks over to the fireplace lighting it aflame before summoning a little girl covered in ashes who turned out to be nifty.
she runs around and immediately starts cleaning before Alastor summons Husker who was in a game of poker, I haven't seen Husker in a long while I feel bad that he has been dragged into this. everyone introduces each other before Angel Dust the tall spider demon notices me "Hey who is this cutie ya brought with ya" I turn and wave before Alastor steps in "That is my wonderful... friend y/n"
Charlie walks over to me shaking my hand "Nice to meet you!!! I'm so glad you are joining us" "It's nice to meet you too princess" "Please just call me Charlie!" introductions were cut short when the wall got blown open revealing a blimp outside and a demon inside calling out for Alastor. he revealed himself as sir pentious and pulled out a death ray? Alastor made quick work of him before everyone went back inside to get settled in.
Charlie gave me a room across from Alastor, Alastor teleporting my bag in my room I started unpacking putting my clothes in their drawers, and hopping on my bed. thankfully the floor had a carpet otherwise I would have been slipping all over the floor. hooves and hardwood don't mix, I learned that the hard way when I first landed down here.
I changed into a short comfy nightgown, brushed my teeth, and slid under the covers of my bed. it wasn't as cozy as the ones back at home but if it meant I got to stay and do something other than housework, how could I complain. and with that I drifted off, until the next morning...
chapter one YAYYY!!!! sorry for taking so long but I have bright ideas for this series and cant wait to publish them. chapter 2 is in the making so stay tuned and have a wonderful day/night love you guys!!!
-squerlly
@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz
for more content and chapter please click this masterlist
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thecapricunt1616 · 19 hours
Text
Vervain - c.b. one-shot
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♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).
♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.
♡ W/C: 4.6K+
♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024
♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!
♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
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It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream. 
Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy. 
Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.
He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple. 
After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later. 
He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed. 
“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face. 
“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you. 
“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back. 
This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one. 
Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that. 
“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck 
“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle 
“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs 
“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head. 
Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.
“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily. 
“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly. 
“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap
“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you. 
“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile. 
“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby. 
“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips 
“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily. 
Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you. 
You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in 
“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat. 
“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile. 
“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers. 
“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods 
“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized. 
“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly. 
“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely 
“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently 
“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles 
“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained 
“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey. 
“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you” 
He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand. 
She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again. 
After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate. 
Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again. 
“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder. 
“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown 
“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot 
“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled 
“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious 
“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it. 
“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant. 
“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep. 
It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat. 
“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 
“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“
“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs 
“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him 
“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.  
“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly 
“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows 
“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile. 
“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully. 
“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play. 
“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching. 
“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement. 
“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could. 
He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers. 
“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving. 
“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9. 
“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing. 
“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off. 
“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off. 
“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him. 
“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight. 
“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh. 
“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick. 
“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips 
“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance. 
The feeling was…well. 
It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently 
“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you. 
“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact. 
“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly 
“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over. 
“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. 
You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake. 
“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape. 
“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles. 
“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both 
“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head
“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more. 
He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”
“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass 
“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp. 
“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth 
“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder 
“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks. 
You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’  you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier. 
“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for. 
“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his. 
“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully. 
“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck. 
“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing.  It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.
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thewulf · 3 days
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Frosted Steel || Cassian
Summary: Request -Can i request a Cassian x Reader?? Here's what I'm thinking-Reader is from winter court. She's gifted with unique ice-binding magic from her home and arrives in Velaris to help Rhysand finalize a critical peace treaty?... Read Rest Here
A/N: Well... this one got away from me hahaha but I had a blast writing it. Def in the zone writing these ACOTAR fics so please keep sending them my way!
Pairing: Cassian x Female Reader (Winter Court Reader)
Word Count: 9.8k + (WHOOPS)
TW: swords, reader gets cut, blood, general ACOTAR warnings
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In the silent, shimmering halls of the Winter Court you stood before Kallias, your father and the formidable High Lord. His piercing blue eyes reflect both concern and determination as he addresses you. The throne room was usually a place of austere beauty but felt colder today. The frost patterns on the walls mirroring the tension in the air.
"Velaris is not just another city, and this is not merely a diplomatic visit my daughter," Kallias begins. His voice resonant and commanding. "Rhysand needs our support to finalize a peace treaty that could stabilize relations of the Winter Court for generations. I need someone who can represent our interests with both power and delicacy. Someone like you."
You shift slightly with your boots whispering against the icy floor. "But father, my magic is suited for creation not conflict. Surely there are others better suited to navigate the intricacies of a peace treaty?" You tried your best to convince him, but it was sure to fall of deaf ears. When he had a plan there was no talking him out of it.
Kallias rises. His height and presence filling the room with an almost tangible force. "No one else possesses your unique abilities or your perspective," he insists. "You understand the fragile nature of peace. This treaty needs more than just political acumen… it needs the trust and bond that only your magic can foster." You knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to flatter you. You lowered your gaze knowing there was no talking him out of this. You felt the weight of his expectations pressing into you. It is an honor yes, but a daunting one, nonetheless. The responsibility feels as heavy as the ice that clings to the peaks of your homeland.
Seeing your hesitation Kallias softens before stepping down from the dais to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I would not ask this of you if I did not believe in your ability to carry our hopes," he says. His tone infused with a rare warmth. "You have always risen to the challenges presented to you, greater though they may seem."
Drawing a deep breath you nod, accepting the mantle he's offering. "I will go to Velaris. I will help broker this peace." You spoke even though you truly did not want to go.
Kallias smiles with pride evident in his eyes. "Rhysand has arranged for an escort to meet you at the city gates. They will ensure your safety and aid in your acclimation to the Night Court's ways. Spend some time there. Get to know them. It will only aid in our recovery efforts after the war.” As you turn to leave your heart steadies itself. The path ahead is uncertain and is filled with potential alliances and hidden perils. But as the frost air fills your lungs you feel your resolve harden. You will meet this challenge as you have met all others with the cool grace and quiet strength of winter itself.
He didn’t give you long to get ready to leave. Within a day you were already finding yourself at the outskirts of Velaris, the once hidden city of the Night Court. As you step through the threshold into the city your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the vivid contrasts. Unlike the icy, silent elegance of your homeland, Velaris pulses with life. Its streets bustling with faeries of every conceivable form and hue. The air here carries the warmth of starlight even into the night. It was a stark contrast to the crisp, cold air of the Winter Court. Your unique ice-binding magic was a rare gift in your cold dominion, and it stirred within you responding to the latent energies of this foreign land.
Your arrival isn't just a mere visit as your father had informed you. It's a mission charged with the weight of potential peace or conflict. Directed by your father you are here to assist Rhysand, the famed High Lord of the Night Court and one you were incredibly intimidated by, in finalizing the critical peace treaty. The responsibility weighs heavily on your shoulders as the outcome could define the future relationships between your frigid realm and the temperate lands of the Night Court.
As you glide through the throngs of fae your eyes marvel at the architectural wonders of Velaris. The buildings around you display intricate designs that emit an ethereal glow, seeming both ancient and vibrantly alive. Despite the surrounding beauty you remain vigilant, your magic at the ready. Your heart beats a complex rhythm of excitement and caution as you near the meeting point. In Velaris, amidst allies and strangers, you must navigate the intricacies of court politics. Utilizing your magical talents for diplomacy and perhaps learn to defend yourself in more ways than one.
However, a different sensation stirs within you—a blend of nervousness and unease—as you anticipate your first encounter with Rhysand and Feyre. Both are Daemati, a kind of power that deeply unsettles you. This fear stems from a harrowing past encounter with a Daemati under Amarantha's command who had mercilessly killed twelve children of the Winter Court. One of these children was your Ivy. She was a young fae you were mentoring. Ivy, like yourself, possessed potent abilities but her promise was brutally cut short. She was a loss that still haunts you to this day.
Now as you approach the House of Wind with your escort a mix of fear and determination tingles through your nerves. You replay the pain of your past and the loss that continuously gnaws at your spirit. Yet, you steady yourself with the knowledge that your father has prepared you well to shield your thoughts. He had trained you relentlessly once he returned from under the mountain. At the time it frustrated you but now, in this moment, you are profoundly grateful for his persistence.
Rhysand and Feyre greet you at the grand entrance. Their presence was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Rhysand's dark hair and piercing gaze are balanced by a surprisingly warm smile. While Feyre's poise and grace exude a calm strength. Though their reputations are fair and just leaders precede them you can't shake the lingering trepidation of their unique abilities.
"Welcome to Velaris," Rhysand says. His voice both smooth and inviting. "We are honored to assist the Winter Court in these crucial talks."
You manage a polite nod making sure to keep your mental shields tightly woven, an invisible armor against any potential intrusion. Rhysand’s eyes seem to glimmer with a hint of understanding, but he makes no move to address the unspoken tension.
Feyre then steps forward with a gentle smile. Her empathy palpable even without words. "We hope you find comfort here during your stay. If there's anything you need at all, please let us know."
As they lead you through the corridors of their home filled with the light of glowing crystals and the scent of night-blooming flowers you remind yourself of the mission at hand. You are here to negotiate peace. To secure a future for your court. Despite the warmth of their welcome, you remain vigilant, prepared to protect your thoughts and heart from the painful memories of the past and the daunting power of the present.
After showing you to your room, a beautiful space with a view of Velaris that twinkles like a starlit sky, Feyre gently suggests that you join them for dinner. As you follow her down to the dining area your nervousness manifests subtly. Your leg shakes rhythmically, a silent tick showing the unease churning inside you. The room is beautifully set with candles flickering softly. They cast a warm light over the array of dishes that smell of spices and something sweetly floral.
You take your seat making sure to deliberately avoid the gazes of Rhysand and Feyre who try to make the atmosphere as welcoming as possible. Your leg continues to shake under the table and despite their friendly demeanor you find yourself unable to meet their eyes. You choose instead to focus on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth. You felt terribly out of your element. Why had your father sent you here? You couldn’t even look them in the eyes, how were you going to negotiate peace with them?
Noticing your discomfort Rhysand addresses the elephant in the room with a gentle directness. "It must be quite unsettling being far from home and surrounded by strangers. Especially strangers who possess abilities that might seem... invasive. We both understand the significance of mental privacy and consent," he begins. His tone imbued with empathy. His acknowledgment of his and Feyre's Daemati powers catches your attention prompting you to glance up briefly.
"We're committed to using our powers to protect and heal, never to harm or coerce," Rhysand continues hoping to ease your worry. "It's a rule we hold sacred in Velaris. A promise to each other and to those we welcome into our home."
As Rhysand speaks there is a sincerity radiating with each word. You find the courage to lift your eyes and meet his gaze for the first time this evening. Something in his expression, a deep-seated earnestness, cuts through the fog of your apprehension. You nod slowly acknowledging his pledge and the safety it promises.
"Thank you," you speak quietly. "I've heard much about both of you and your abilities. Forgive me for being so… cold." The smirk that follows is light and tinged with the irony of your homeland's icy reputation.
Your gaze shifts between Rhysand and Feyre. Their attentive postures encouraging you to continue. "The reason for my caution," you explain, "stems from a… an awful experience. One of the children taken by Amarantha's enforcer was under my protection. Her name was Ivy. I was supposed to shield her. Protect her. To nurture her abilities. But I could only watch helpless as her mind was torn apart. Piece by piece. It was... traumatizing to say the least. The fear of that power. The fear of it being used again so mercilessly has stayed with me." You let out the breath you were holding feeling a weight being slowly lifted off your shoulders in your admission.
Taking a deep breath, you fight through the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "Ivy was more than just a pupil to me. She was like a daughter," you begin. Your voice trembling as the words spill out. “Young and brilliant. Her very presence could brighten the darkest winter nights. She had a rare gift for ice magic. The kind that comes once in a generation. Ivy could weave frost into intricate sculptures of breathtaking beauty. She could coax snowflakes into patterns that told stories. Her magic wasn’t just powerful, it was art. Art in the purest and most captivating form."
Your voice cracks as the memory surges forward, raw, and as sharp as the day it happened. "When the enforcer came, I tried to shield her. I stood between them. I begged him to take me instead. But he just laughed..." Your hands clench into fists at the memory with you nails digging into your palms as if to anchor you against the pain. "And then he turned his attention to her. Ivy was just a girl. A beautiful little girl brimming with potential, and I had to watch from a distance… utterly powerless, as he ripped it all away. Her screams... the look of sheer terror in her eyes... it's etched into my memory. A nightmare that never fades."
Pausing, you swallow hard, feeling the sting of tears as they threaten to breach your composure. "I couldn't save her. The guilt of that moment, the utter helplessness. It’s haunted me ever since." You wipe away a tear that manages to escape, your voice a whisper now. "That’s why I’m so wary around Daemati. That’s why your powers… even though I know you use them for good, initially stirred such deep fear in me. The memory of what was done with similar abilities. It terrifies me still."
As you finish the room is enveloped in a heavy silence. Rhysand and Feyre absorbing the depth of your pain. Each of their faces etched with compassion and sorrow for your loss. Feyre's reaction is immediate and visceral. Her eyes fill with tears, and they silently overflow as she listens to the end of your harrowing experience. Moved deeply by your pain and the horrific loss of Ivy, she can barely contain her distress, reflecting her profound empathy.
"I'm so sorry," Feyre whispers. Her voice quivering as she reaches across the table, seeking to provide comfort even as she struggles with her own reaction. "That you had to go through that, to witness such horror... it's just unthinkable. I can't express how deeply sorry I am for your loss and your pain."
Rhysand's expression is one of solemn resolve as he observes both you and Feyre. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder offering her a silent strength before turning his attention to you with a serious yet compassionate gaze. "What happened to Ivy, the terror she endured—such things are what we fight against every day," he says firmly. "Under my watch we hold ourselves to a promise: that we use our power to protect, to heal, not to harm. What you experienced will not happen here. You have my word." He nods his head in reverence.
The sincerity in Rhysand's voice and his protective assurance coupled with Feyre's empathetic tears create a poignant moment of understanding and solidarity. It offers a small yet significant reassurance that in Velaris you might find not only safety but also allies who genuinely care about your well-being.
As dinner progresses the conversation gradually shifts towards lighter topics. Focusing on the details of the peace treaty. The atmosphere has eased significantly with Rhysand and Feyre both engaging in thoughtful dialogue about the future plans and the roles each court might play in fostering peace. You find yourself becoming more invested in the conversation feeling a bit more at ease with each passing moment.
Just as you're beginning to relax fully the door bursts open and two figures storm in, deep in a heated debate. Their voices are raised, each trying to overpower the other with their arguments.
“You think charging in without a plan is the answer, Cassian? That’s reckless, even for you,” the darker-haired one asserts, his expression intense and clearly frustrated.
“And you think waiting around is going to solve our problems, Az? We can’t just leave it unresolved!” the larger man retorts with his broad frame gesturing emphatically.
Rhysand sighs, setting down his utensils before looking between his two friends. “Alright, what’s this about?” he asks, ready to mediate with a practiced ease.
As Cassian and Azriel's loud entrance interrupted the dinner your eyes immediately locked with Cassian's. Despite the intensity of their ongoing argument something about his direct gaze halted all other thoughts. It was as if a gust of wind had swept through the room, leaving you momentarily breathless. Amidst the unexpected disruption the corner of your mouth quirked up in amusement. Such candid, boisterous dynamics were a rare sight back in the Winter Court and the sheer openness of it all struck you as refreshingly odd. Even as the argument continued your focus remained riveted on Cassian. You found it impossible to break away from his gaze, his eyes holding a mixture of passion and warmth that was intensely captivating.
Catching your amused smile, Cassian halts mid-sentence. A playful glint appearing in his eyes. “And who do we have here?” he asks. His tone shifting to one of curiosity mixed with a hint of charm. “A spy from the Winter Court come to watch us squabble like market hagglers?”
Azriel rolls his eyes at Cassian’s dramatics. “Ignore him. Cassian thinks every new face is part of a grand intrigue.”
Rhysand chuckles and intervenes before Cassian can respond. “No spies here, just Kallias’s daughter from the Winter Court. She’s here to assist with the peace treaty negotiations. Remember?” Rhysand explains gesturing toward you with a warm smile. “And apparently to witness the Night Court's General and Spymaster in their, let’s say, natural habitat.”
Cassian’s face lights up with a broad grin as he extends a hand in greeting. His earlier fervor now redirected into welcoming you. “Well then, welcome to Velaris! I’m Cassian, the General. And the brooding shadow over there is Azriel, our Spymaster. Seems you’ve got a front-row seat to our tactical disputes.”
Azriel gives you a nod, his earlier annoyance fading into a reserved smile. "It’s good to meet you. Please don’t mind us. We argue, but it’s all in the spirit of making the best decisions for our people."
Your initial amusement grows into a genuine smile, touched by the warmth and candidness of their welcome, even amidst their lively disputes. This evening has certainly turned out to be full of surprises. Painting a vivid picture of the Night Court as a place of vibrant personalities and fierce loyalty.
As the energy from their spirited discussions simmers down and the laughter echoes into a comfortable lull you take the opportunity to express your amusement at their robust debate. Greeting Cassian and Azriel warmly you share how refreshing you find the candid nature of the Night Court. It's a stark contrast to the more reserved and formal interactions typical of the Winter Court, sparking your curiosity about the dynamics of this lively group.
"Well, it's certainly different here," you comment with a light laugh. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of this... enthusiasm during my stay. I'll be here for a month or so. I hope to learn as much as I can."
Rhysand, seizing on your mention of an extended stay, exchanges a quick glance with Cassian. He gave him a sly smile as he senses his brothers attention shifting toward you almost immediately. "A month or so gives us plenty of time," he says thoughtfully. "If you're interested in learning more than just politics perhaps you'd like to join some of our training sessions? Cassian here leads our warriors and I'm sure he could arrange something that accommodates your skills and interests."
Cassian’s eyes light up at the suggestion. He was always eager to bring someone new into the fold of his training regimens. Especially someone as unique as you seemed to be. "Absolutely," he agrees with an enthusiastic nod. "It’s not all sword swinging and strength training. We focus on strategy, agility, and even some elemental control that might align nicely with your ice magic. It could be a good way to blend some of the Winter Court techniques with ours."
As Rhysand suggests joining the training sessions you hesitate, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. "I appreciate the offer but I'm not really a fighter," you admit slightly apologetic in your nature. "My strengths lie more in diplomacy and magic, particularly ice magic. I'm not sure how well I'd fit into a warrior's training regimen."
Rhysand, observing the interplay at the table, seems particularly keen on your participation. His insight as a leader might allow him to sense the undercurrent of interest from Cassian toward you. Something potentially deeper than it appears. He pushes gently but with a knowing smile, "It’s not just about fighting. It’s about understanding different perspectives and disciplines. It could be a valuable experience."
Cassian although typically straightforward and jovially aggressive, adopts a slightly softer demeanor. His usual bravado tempered by earnestness. "Training can also be about balance and harmony. About integrating the physical with the magical. Your skills could bring a fresh perspective, not just to our tactics but to our understanding of magic and combat."
Then Azriel, who normally stays quiet in such discussions adds his own encouragement. His subdued voice carrying weight. "It’s worth exploring. Sometimes stepping into unfamiliar territory reveals more about our strengths. It could be enlightening for all of us."
Cassian's expression briefly reveals his surprise at Azriel’s interjection. It was a small, almost imperceptible lift of his eyebrows signaling to you that Azriel's encouragement is out of the ordinary. This small gesture subtly hints at the importance of the moment.
Feyre as if sensing the nuanced shifts in the conversation supports their suggestions with a warm and inclusive gesture. "It’s also a way to connect with everyone here. Our training sessions are as much about building relationships as they are about building skills. It would be wonderful to have you join, even just a few times to see how it feels."
Encouraged by their collective support and Cassian's surprised yet approving glance following Azriel's seemingly rare endorsement you find yourself reconsidering their proposal more seriously. "Alright. I'll give it a try," you agree, a tentative excitement building within you. "This will be very… interesting."
"Excellent," Cassian says. His eyes brightening with enthusiasm. "We’ll start at a pace that feels right for you. It’s about growth and learning, not just exertion."
As the dinner concludes and plans for your training begin to take shape you can't help but feel an intriguing pull towards what lies ahead. The possibility of new friendships and perhaps deeper bonds begins to form, hinting at the start of an enriching journey within the Night Court.
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On your first day at the training grounds, the crisp morning air of Velaris is invigorating, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and distant calls from sparring partners. Cassian leads you to a quieter section reserved for one-on-one sessions away from the more vigorous activities of his usual warriors. The atmosphere is slightly tense. The space between you filled with cautious curiosity. Each of you is clearly gauging the other trying to find a comfortable rhythm in this new training partnership.
"Let’s see what you’ve got," Cassian suggests. His tone friendly but carrying a hint of challenge. He watches intently as you demonstrate some basic maneuvers with your ice magic. You created delicate yet sharp frost patterns that float gracefully in the air. His nods of approval are sparing, and you can tell he’s mentally noting each display of skill though he keeps his feedback measured and professional.
As the days progress the initial stiffness that marked your interactions begins to melt away. Cassian’s coaching style is intense. His commands are sharp, his expectations high. However, as you meet his challenges with increasing confidence you begin to understand the method behind his rigor. You also start to catch glimpses of humor in his sharp eyes. A sign that there’s more to this formidable warrior than just discipline and strength.
"Try not to freeze my soldiers. We’re running out of good men as it is," he jokes one morning after you skillfully direct a swirl of ice around a training dummy skillfully stopping just short of a group of soldiers watching nearby.
With a small laugh you shoot back, "I thought the Night Court could handle a little cold."
His laughter in response is hearty. A sound that seems to echo around the quiet corner of the training grounds. It's a turning point, signaling a shift from mutual respect to something warmer, more friendly.
By the end of the week your training sessions are characterized by easy banter and playful challenges. One afternoon Cassian dodges your icy projectiles with nimble grace only to slip slightly on a patch of ice you cunningly left in his path. "Not bad for a scrawny little thing," he grins while steadying himself with the agility of a cat.
In response you flash a mischievous smile and with a subtle flick of your wrist, you freeze his boots to the ground. "And not bad for a brawny brute," you retort. Laughter bursts from a few nearby trainees who have started to look forward to these exchanges between the two of you.
Cassian manages to break free before brushing ice from his boots with mock indignation. "You’re going to pay for that one," he warns though his eyes sparkle with amusement.
As the week draws to a close the training ground has transformed from a place of cautious appraisal to one of growth and friendship. Your sessions with Cassian are no longer just about learning to integrate your ice magic with physical combat. They’re also about the laughter shared over slipped footing, the shared grins after successful maneuvers, and the light-hearted jests that now flow freely between you. This evolving camaraderie promises not just improved skills but a deepening bond, hinting at the development of a relationship built on respect, challenge, and mutual delight in each other's company.
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The atmosphere at the training grounds is usually charged with the sounds of diligent practice but today there’s an added layer of excitement due to some young onlookers from the Night Court. Cassian plans a session that balances demonstrations of your unique ice magic with some basic combat techniques hoping to impress not just you but the eager young fae watching from a distance.
Wearing your elegant Winter Court attire, which was more suited for display than combat, you find yourself not in your usual training leathers. Today was supposed to be about finesse and control not full-contact sparring. As Cassian readies the next exercise you catch the eyes of the children peeking out from behind the trees. Their expressions were filled with awe and curiosity. Smiling back at them your attention momentarily drifts from the task at hand.
Cassian notices your distraction and the intricate fabric of your attire raising an eyebrow in mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to change into something more... practical?" he asks you once more. His voice laced with skepticism.
You shake your head while stepping forward confidently. "I believe today's session can benefit from a different approach," you explain. Your voice steady, confident. "My attire from the Winter Court is designed not only for aesthetics but for mobility in a certain style of combat. It’s more strategic and less about direct confrontation. It might offer a new perspective for your warriors."
Cassian looks dubious but intrigued by your assurance and the potential learning opportunity for his trainees. After a moment of consideration, he nods slowly. "Alright," he concedes. His tone cautious yet curious. "We'll adjust today's training to focus on technique and precision. We'll go light on the physical combat to accommodate your attire."
Grateful for his flexibility you prepare to demonstrate that finesse and strategy can be as effective as brute strength hoping to prove the value of your unique approach and the versatility of your court's combat style.
As dusk deepened over the training grounds, the session with Cassian was intensifying. He was fully focused on you, guiding, and challenging you with each swing of his blunted training blade. He did not notice Azriel's silent approach until his brother was almost beside them, landing softly. The sudden appearance of Azriel, so smooth and silent, caught your eye at the crucial moment.
Cassian, thinking you were prepared and about to dodge, continued with his planned attack and swung the blunted blade in a broad, sweeping motion towards you. Normally you would have sidestepped smoothly but distracted by Azriel's unexpected arrival you froze. The blade, though blunt for training, struck directly against your side with surprising force due to your lack of movement. The impact was hard enough to slice through the delicate fabric of your Winter Court dress and nick your skin, drawing a line of blood.
Immediately realizing the mishap Cassian dropped his sword and rushed to your side, his expression flooded with concern. "Are you alright? I thought you saw me coming," he asked quickly as his voice was laced with worry.
Trying to mask the sharp sting and the sudden warmth of blood seeping through your dress, you attempted to reassure him, "I’m okay, Cassian, really, it was just a shock more than anything—"
But as you spoke a wave of dizziness overwhelmed you, your knees buckling under the dual assault of pain and sudden faintness. As you started to fall Cassian instinctively reached out, catching you just in time. His hands which were initially meant to steady you felt the wetness of blood through the fabric of your dress. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the bright red on his hands realizing the cut was more serious than a mere scrape.
Without a moment's hesitation Cassian scooped you up into his arms. His movements were swift and filled with urgent care. He looked up at Azriel who had stepped forward, concern etching his features. "Keep the training going, Az. I’m taking her to Madja, now," Cassian instructed firmly. His voice carrying the weight of his resolve.
Azriel nodded understanding the gravity of the situation and stepped back to allow Cassian to pass. Cassian, holding you securely, moved with purposeful speed towards the infirmary. His mind was racing with worry. The flight was quick. His powerful wings beating against the cool air of the evening, each stroke propelling you further away from the training grounds and closer to the healing hands of Madja.
As he flew you clung to him feeling the cool air against your face, which helped alleviate some of the dizziness. "I'm really okay, Cassian," you tried to assure him again, your voice soft, noticing the tension in his body, the way his jaw was set with worry. "It’s just a little cut, I think. I’m sure it’s already healed up."
Cassian only tightened his hold, a gesture of protective care. "We're not taking any chances," he said firmly. His tone brooking no argument. "You’re getting checked out, no arguments."
Suspended in the air, held securely in Cassian's embrace, you noticed the tension in his expression. His jaw set firmly as he navigated through the skies. Wanting to alleviate his concern and lighten the mood you looked up at him, your voice competing with the rush of the wind. "Okay, no arguing," you conceded with a soft, reassuring smile. "But how about an even less swordy day at training tomorrow?"
"You know, maybe we should consider taking a rest day tomorrow," Cassian suggested hesitantly. His voice carrying a protective tone. "Just to be sure you're fully recovered. It might not be wise to jump right back into training."
You looked up at him feeling the warmth of his care but also a spark of your own determination not to be sidelined by a small injury. "I appreciate your concern, Cassian, but really, I feel fine," you countered quickly. A hint of stubbornness in your tone. "A light day as planned with some tactical drills. Nothing too strenuous. I think it would be good for me. For you"
Cassian raised an eyebrow with a small smile breaking through as he sensed your resolve. "Oh, how quickly you've changed your tune, princess," he remarked with a playful smirk. The affectionate tease in his voice floated on the wind as he continued to fly, his grip around you reassuring and strong.
The brief exchange brought a light-heartedness to the moment and Cassian's smile broadened slightly appreciating your spirit and resilience. "Alright, tactical drills it is then. But at the first sign of any discomfort, we're taking a break," he conceded. His tone still carrying a hint of caution but softened by his growing trust in your judgment.
As you both neared the infirmary the flight through the crisp evening air felt less like a rush to aid and more like a shared journey back to stability. Cassian's initial hesitation faded, replaced by a quiet confidence in your resilience and a deepening sense of connection between you. The city of Velaris spread out beneath you, a silent witness to the bond that was strengthening with every beat of Cassian's wings and every word exchanged above the rooftops.
Landing smoothly at the infirmary Cassian carried you inside where Madja was already preparing her tools. Cassian gently laid you down on a cot as his hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes were searching yours for any sign of further distress.
Madja quickly assessed the situation. She cleaned the wound and confirmed it was shallow. Though the blood loss and the shock had caused your faintness. "You'll be fine. Just a little rest and you’ll be up in no time," she reassured both you and Cassian, more so Cassian, who finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.
You turn to Cass with a smirk playing on your lips. "See, told you so, General," you tease in an attempt to ease the palpable tension that had followed you from the training grounds.
Cassian's relief is immediate and visible. He lets out a deep breath, the tightness in his shoulders relaxing as he returns your smirk with a wry smile. "Fine, you were right. But let’s avoid making this a habit, shall we?"
Before you can respond the infirmary door swings open abruptly. Rhysand strides in, his expression a mixture of concern and command clearly having been summoned by Cassian’s urgent mental call. His eyes are wide as he quickly scans the room landing on you sitting relatively unscathed on the infirmary bed.
"Are you alright?" Rhysand asks. His voice tight with concern. He moves closer. His gaze flicking from you to Cassian, seeking an explanation.
You nod reassuring him with a calm smile. "I’m just fine, Rhys. Really, it was much less dramatic than it seems. Cassian has been worried enough for everyone," you say, glancing at Cassian with a playful raise of your eyebrows, signaling that all is truly well.
Rhysand's gaze softens though the lines of worry don’t completely disappear. "Cassian briefed me but seeing you well makes a world of difference. These training accidents... Well, they shouldn’t happen. We’ll review the protocols to ensure this is an isolated incident."
Turning to Cassian, Rhysand claps him on the shoulder. A gesture of support mixed with a mild reprimand. "Take care of her. Make sure she follows all of Madja’s instructions," Rhysand instructs, his leader’s tone resurfacing.
Cassian nods solemnly, "Understood. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again."
With a final nod and a comforting smile directed at you Rhys exits the infirmary, his presence leaving as quickly as it arrived. The room feels lighter now, the earlier tension dissipating with the confirmations of your well-being.
Cassian stays by your side. His relief evident but his watchfulness remaining. "Now, about that 'less swordy' day tomorrow..." he begins, ready to shift back into the lighter, teasing dynamic that has marked your growing friendship. Grateful that the day’s scare has ended on a reassuring note.
As Cassian suggests a less physically demanding day focused more on magic you can’t help but giggle. A slight relief moving away from any activities involving bladed weapons. “That sounds perfect,” you agree with enthusiasm brightening your voice as you discuss potential exercises that would let you showcase and refine your control over ice magic without the physical strain.
As the conversation continues Cassian helps you up ensuring you’re stable on your feet and offers his arm for support as you begin the walk back to your quarters. The corridors of the Night Court feel quieter than usual. The soft echo of your steps mingling with the fading adrenaline of the day’s events. There’s a palpable shift between you and Cassian. A new layer of closeness brought on not just by the day’s scare but also by the accumulated time spent together over the past few weeks.
Cassian’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. His voice softer, more reflective than before. “I’ve really enjoyed these last few weeks with you,” he admits. His gaze fixed ahead. “You’ve taught me more than you’ll ever know.” His words hang in the air laden with a sincerity that draws your attention fully to his expression. It’s open, honest, and there’s a hint of vulnerability there that you hadn’t noticed before.
You look at him, touched by his confession, noticing the slight hesitance as if he wants to say more but is holding back. Maybe it’s the fear of crossing an unseen boundary or the uncertainty of your reaction that keeps him from continuing.
Encouraged by his openness you respond warmly, “And I’ve learned a lot from you, too, Cassian. Not just about fighting or training but about what it means to really care about your warriors, your friends.” You pause searching his face for a reaction. “It means a lot to me, all of this time we’ve spent together.”
Cassian’s eyes meet yours and there’s a moment of silent communication. A mutual understanding and appreciation that seems to deepen the bond between you. “I’m glad,” he finally says with his voice low. “I hope we can keep this going, no matter what the training schedule says.”
As you reach your quarters there’s a reluctance to part between the both of you. A desire to prolong the connection that has clearly grown beyond the confines of instructor and trainee. Cassian lingers at your door, his usual confidence tempered with a newfound tenderness.
“Get some rest princess,” he says softly before stepping back with a reluctant smile. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow. Less swordy, more... magical.”
You nod, smiling back at him, feeling a warmth that extends beyond the fading pain from your injury. “I look forward to it, Cassian. Thank you for everything today.”
He nods, then turns to leave, but not before throwing a look over his shoulder. It was a promise of more shared moments, more lessons, and perhaps, deeper revelations yet to come. The door closes softly behind you leaving you with a sense of anticipation for what the next day might bring, both in training and in your evolving relationship with Cassian.
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After the incident at the training grounds and a night of rest you dive back into the treaty negotiations with renewed focus. As the talks commence you are at the forefront, your diplomatic skills shining as you navigate the complexities of the discussions. Your adept use of magic not only impresses but also serves as a poignant reminder of the Winter Court's strengths and capabilities. The treaty talks progress smoothly and a successful agreement begins to take shape much to the relief and satisfaction of all parties involved.
However, despite the importance of the negotiations and your central role in them your thoughts intermittently drift to Cassian. The memory of his concerned eyes, his protective stance, and the warmth of your conversation lingers with you, distracting you more than you'd like to admit. As you mentally rehearse your next points in the discussion, you find your mind replaying moments from the training sessions, his laughter, his teasing remarks, and his unexpectedly gentle care.
Unbeknownst to you, your mental shields—usually so meticulously maintained—begin to slip slightly amid your daydreams. Rhysand, who was not actively probing but is always somewhat attuned to the emotional and mental state of those around him, picks up on your wandering thoughts. He catches snippets of your internal musings about Cassian, not enough to grasp the full context but enough to piece together the gist of your distraction.
Throughout the meeting a knowing grin slowly forms on Rhysand's face, amused by the realization of your burgeoning feelings for his brother. He doesn't comment on it during the talks. Making sure to maintain his professionalism and focusing on the successful closure of the treaty. However, the little smile that occasionally plays at the corners of his mouth doesn't go unnoticed by those who know him well.
Later, as the meeting concludes with handshakes and a collective sigh of relief over the treaty's ratification. Rhysand pulls Cassian aside just before your evening training session. In a quiet corner away from prying ears Rhysand's grin broadens.
"I think someone has managed to catch more than just your training expertise," Rhysand teases as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Our Winter Court princess seems to be a bit distracted by a certain general." As Rhysand delivers his playful revelation, Cassian's initial surprise quickly shifts to a broad, almost uncontrollable grin that spreads across his face. The sudden display of joy is uncharacteristic of the usually composed general, revealing just how deeply the news has affected him.
"Oh? And what makes you say that?" Cassian tries to maintain a semblance of composure, but his voice betrayed a hint of excitement beneath the casual façade.
Rhysand notices the change in Cassian's demeanor. The light in his eyes that hadn't been there moments before. "Well, let's just say that her thoughts were a little less guarded than usual," Rhysand replied. His voice laced with amusement. "She might be more interested in the person teaching her than just the lessons themselves."
Cassian's smile widens and he shakes his head slightly almost in disbelief but clearly delighted by the prospect. "Is that so?" he murmurs more to himself than to Rhysand, his mind already spinning with the implications.
Rhysand watches Cassian's bright grin, a knowing look crossing his face as he teases, "Seems like those training sessions are about more than just tactics and spells."
Cassian’s expression remains upbeat but a hint of seriousness creeps in. "They’re enlightening," he admits while giving a nod. "There’s something unique about her… beyond just her skills."
Sensing the depth in Cassian’s tone, Rhysand's demeanor shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative. "Just be careful, Cass. It’s easy to let your guard down when strong feelings are involved."
Cassian pauses as he felt a weight in Rhysand's caution. He looks at his brother, a silent plea for understanding without words. Rhysand, ever perceptive, senses the depth of Cassian’s feelings, realizing this might be more than just a fleeting fascination. "Cassian, do you think she could be…" Rhysand trails off leaving the implication hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of possibilities. His question is subtle, probing—asking if Cassian feels the deep, fated connection of a mate.
Cassian meets Rhysand's gaze with his own eyes reflecting a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I don’t know," he confesses softly. "But there’s something there. Something that feels… right. More than I've felt before."
Rhysand nods slowly as he processed this new revelation. His initial caution softens into a more supportive stance. "Then take it seriously but carefully. If this is what I think it might be, it’s not just significant for you but could be for the Night Court as well."
He places a hand on Cassian’s shoulder with a firm, reassuring grip. "Follow your heart but keep your head with you. She’s not just any visitor. She could and is likely to be much more."
As Rhysand walks away leaving Cassian to ponder the future the conversation not only cements Cassian's resolve but also clarifies the stakes. It’s a turning point. Marking a shift from casual interest to considering the profound potential of a deep, lifelong bond. Cassian feels empowered and cautious now acutely aware of the significant path that might be unfolding before him. This is no longer about training or simple affection. It could be the beginning of the rest of his life, your life.
As dusk settles over Velaris with the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the training grounds, Cassian awaits your arrival. His mind a jumbled swirl of thoughts from the earlier conversation with Rhysand. His anticipation is palpable, heightened by the significant discussions about feelings and futures that may be closer than he's admitted to himself.
During that first meeting in the dining hall his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. As he and Azriel entered mid-argument his initial focus was entirely on their spirited debate not the important dinner he was walking into. The sudden sight of you was an unexpected and striking presence. You brought a sharp halt to his thoughts.
Cassian was immediately struck by your poise and the quiet confidence with which you held yourself among such esteemed company. His first impression was of your elegance and the serene way you observed the dynamic entrance he and Azriel made. There was something about the way you carried yourself as a blend of strength and grace that captivated him instantly.
Embarrassment quickly flooded him with a blush creeping up his neck as he realized the discordant note their arrival struck in the otherwise serene setting. There you were, seated elegantly among the dignitaries of the Night Court with an aura of quiet confidence radiating from you. Despite the potentially disruptive entrance your expression remained unflustered. The slight, knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips, and the amusement twinkling in your eyes spoke volumes. It was clear you were not only unfazed by the raucous disruption but also mildly entertained by it.
What struck Cassian more deeply was the way your attention seemed focused solely on him, as if the room and its other occupants had faded into the background. This singular focus, paired with the amused arch of your brow, left him feeling both exposed and intrigued. It was as if you could see right through to his typically hidden insecurities prompting a mix of vulnerability and a compelling desire to engage further.
Cassian felt a twinge of chagrin for not having presented a more composed entrance. Especially in front of someone who commanded such a presence as you did. The initial embarrassment, however, slowly morphed into a quiet determination. He was keenly aware that he had an opportunity to make a more meaningful second impression. One that could perhaps intrigue and draw you in just as you had captivated him from that first shared glance.
As he moved to regain his composure, smoothing back his hair, and adjusting his jacket, Cassian was already plotting how to transform this awkward beginning into an opening for deeper connection. The evening had just begun, and he was determined to show you a side of him that resonated with the depth and discernment he now saw reflected in your gaze.
When Rhysand later suggested that Cassian take the lead on your physical training, he seized the opportunity without hesitation. Training was his domain where he felt most in command and most himself. He anticipated that in the structure and discipline of physical training, among the straightforwardness of drills and exercises, there might be space for more informal interactions. For laughter and light conversations that could bridge the gap between formal dining hall introductions and a genuine connection.
Cassian saw each upcoming session as a canvas. As an opportunity to impress and engage you, not just with his skills but with his insights and his approach to teaching and leadership. Privately he knew he’d have to thank Rhysand for the suggestion—whether it was a calculated move or just a fortuitous throwaway idea, it had given him a golden opportunity to explore the potential that he sensed bubbling beneath your initial poised exterior.
He was intrigued, more so than he had been for a long time. The initial physical attraction was strong. Yet it was your demeanor, the intriguing mix of diplomacy and candor, that truly piqued his interest. Cassian left the dining hall that evening with his mind full of questions and curiosities about you. He was eager for the next opportunity to interact and perhaps to understand the compelling figure you were beyond just the surface.
From the memories of that first dinner to the present moment on the training grounds, Cassian's journey of understanding and admiration for you had woven through weeks of anticipation and subtle discoveries. Each interaction had added layers to his initial perception, enriching the image he held of you in his mind.
Then as if to punctuate his thoughts you appeared for the training session, garbed unmistakably in Illyrian warrior attire. Much different than the training leathers and Winter Court apparel he had grown used to see you in. The traditional leathers of his people clung to you, accentuating both strength and grace in your every move. The sight of you in such commanding attire sent a jolt through Cassian. His reaction visceral and immediate. His eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration flashing across his face as he took in every detail—the way the leather fit you, how it moved with your body, and the undeniable air of confidence it brought to your demeanor.
The transformation was not just in your appearance but in the energy you exuded. Standing there you embodied the strength and resilience of an Illyrian warrior, qualities that resonated deeply with Cassian’s own identity. It struck him then how seamlessly you seemed to integrate into his world. How naturally you adopted its symbols and its strength. This was no longer just about training or sharing skills. It was a visual affirmation of your integration into his life and culture.
As he approached you his initial shock gave way to a profound respect. The way you carried the weight of the armor, the casual yet respectful nod you gave him as he walked up. These small actions spoke volumes. Cassian felt a renewed sense of connection. A deeper bond forming not just from shared interests and conversations but from seeing you embrace a part of his heritage with such ease and honor.
In that moment as he closed the distance between you, Cassian realized how deeply he was drawn to you, far beyond the physical allure. It was your spirit. Your willingness to step into his world, to don the armor of his people and stand ready to engage on equal footing. This realization brought a warmth to his chest and a smile to his lips. One that was both proud and welcoming.
As you stood before Cassian in the Illyrian warrior attire your presence was a striking blend of determination and slight apprehension. The soft evening light cast long shadows across the training grounds accentuating the quiet resolve in your posture. You were about to propose a change to the day’s lighter, planned routine. While confident in your suggestion there was a hint of nervousness tinged your voice, reflecting the care you took in challenging the agenda.
"Um, Cassian," you started, your voice carrying a cautious undertone, "I know we planned for a less sword-intensive session today..." You paused trying to gather your thoughts. But before you could continue your eyes met Cassian’s, their intensity like a direct challenge, causing a sudden vulnerability to flutter in your stomach. His gaze was penetrating, studying you with a warmth and focus that unnerved you. For a moment the confidence you felt started to waver under his scrutiny. The depth of his attention making you want to melt into a puddle right there on the training grounds.
However, drawing a deep breath, you summoned your resolve. Despite the shake in your confidence, you pressed on bolstered by the knowledge that this was an important step in your training. "I feel fine. But I've been thinking. I'm already quite familiar with my magic, and not as much with swordsmanship." Your voice grew slightly firmer as you continued, "Maybe, if it’s alright, we could incorporate more of that?" As you reached the end of your proposal a slight stammer betrayed your nervousness. "If you're okay with that, that is," you added with a nervous smile. Eager yet uncertain of his response.
Cassian, still somewhat in awe of your striking appearance and the commanding aura you exuded in the traditional leathers was momentarily taken aback. His response was on the tip of his tongue, an agreement forming, when Azriel quietly joined the duo. Observing the scene, Azriel noted your determined stance and Cassian’s admiring gaze. A knowing smirk crept onto Azriel’s face. "Looks like she’s going to give you a run for your money, brother," he teased unable to hide the amusement in his voice.
Cassian was caught between his brother's teasing and your challenging proposal but managed to regain his composure. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, his confidence rekindled by the familiar banter and the prospect of a spirited training session. "Alright then," he agreed with a nod. A smile breaking through as he embraced the challenge, "swords it is. Let’s see what you’ve got."
As the session progressed Azriel lingered on the sidelines, his eyes shifting between the clashing swords and Cassian’s animated instructions. Every now and then he couldn’t resist throwing in a light-hearted jab especially when it seemed like Cassian was particularly impressed by your quick learning curve or deft movements. "Careful, Cass, I think she might just outdo you in your own game," Azriel called out after a particularly skillful maneuver from you. His tone teasing but proud of you.
Cassian shot a mock-glare at Azriel, but his eyes sparkled with humor and something softer, an undeniable delight in your prowess and enthusiasm. Despite himself Cassian found that he enjoyed this, the mix of training intensity and the undercurrent of playful rivalry. Not just between him and you but with Azriel's involvement as well. It felt oddly, natural. You’d found a way to integrate yourself into the court within only a month of being in Velaris.
Throughout the training Cassian’s admiration for you only grew. Every block, every parry you performed with increasing confidence seemed to not only impress him but also deepen the sense of connection that he felt. This wasn’t just about teaching you how to handle a sword. It was about sharing a piece of his world, his passion, and seeing you embrace it with such fervor was both exhilarating and endearing.
As the sun dipped below the horizon Azriel’s teasing remarks faded into the background, replaced by a quiet acknowledgment of the shift he saw in Cassian. It was clear to him that his brother was, indeed, in trouble. But in the best possible way. Cassian's usually unshakeable demeanor was softer when he looked at you, filled with a mix of pride, respect, and a burgeoning affection that went beyond the confines of the training ring.
When the session finally wound down and the cool evening air settled around, both you and Cassian were catching your breath, reveling in the afterglow of intense physical exertion. It was then that Azriel, unable to resist the opportunity for a little brotherly teasing, stepped forward. Clapping Cassian on the back with a broad grin he couldn’t help but comment, "Well, that was quite a performance. And here I thought today was supposed to be less about swords."
Cassian, still a bit winded from the session, shot Azriel a quick, warning glance. But even he couldn’t hide the amused smile that tugged at his lips, indicative of his own acknowledgment of the shift in plans. Your puzzled look darted between the two brothers catching the tail end of their dynamic, your smile mirroring Cassian's albeit with a touch of confusion.
"Less swords, more magic, but I guess plans change when you're dressed for battle," you chimed in attempting to play off Azriel's comment, still somewhat oblivious to the deeper layers of teasing.
Azriel’s smirk widened as he observed the interplay, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Absolutely, plans do change. Especially when a certain someone decides to show up looking ready to join the ranks of Illyrian warriors," he teased you, turning his gaze back to Cassian with a sly expression. "Makes a general reconsider his strategies."
Caught in the moment, you shared the origin of your attire, a light chuckle escaping you. "Feyre absolutely insisted on me wearing the traditional leathers," you explained, your smile fond as you recalled Feyre's insistence. "I thought it was just for protection, given the training. She seemed really adamant about it."
Cassian’s expression softened at this with a brief smile acknowledging the hidden hand of Rhysand in this setup. Though he connected the dots, realizing his brother's likely involvement in Feyre's insistence, he chose to keep this revelation to himself. Instead, he simply nodded, appreciating your earnestness and perhaps, deep down, thankful for the unintended push it gave him to see you in a new light—strong, capable, and utterly captivating in Illyrian leathers.
As the training session drew to a close and the night deepened around them, the playful banter and shared laughter began to ebb. Azriel's remarks, though lighthearted, had hinted at the shift he observed in the dynamics between you and Cassian. A development that seemed to promise much more than just companionship in the future.
Recognizing the cooling air and the perfect, serene evening that enveloped Velaris, Cassian suggested a leisurely walk back through the city. "How about I walk you home tonight? It's a nice evening to cool down and stretch out after training," he proposed. His voice casual but with a hopeful undertone.
Azriel caught the subtle inflection in Cassian’s tone and simply couldn’t resist one more jab, his knowing smile broadening into a full-blown, mischievous grin. "Sure, take your time," he teased, his voice rich with implication. With a final chuckle and a wink at Cassian, Azriel spread his wings and took to the skies leaving you both to the quiet of the evening streets.
Cassian walked beside you there was a thoughtful distance in his initial steps. As if he was contemplating the right words or simply savoring the shared silence. Gradually, he drew closer, his presence a comforting constant at your side. The soft lighting from the streetlamps cast gentle shadows and the faint rustle of the leaves created a backdrop that enriched the moment with a quaint, almost magical quality.
Every now and then his hand would lightly touch your arm or guide you around an uneven patch on the cobblestones. Each contact sending a quiet thrill through you. Despite the casual nature of the walk there was an undercurrent of something deeper. A thread of anticipation weaving through the air between you.
"Same time tomorrow?" Cassian finally broke the silence. His voice a blend of softness and something undefinable yet unmistakably tender.
"Definitely," you replied with your smile genuine and wide. The connection you felt with Cassian was undeniable and while you might not fully grasp the depth of his feelings, the pull towards him was strong and only growing stronger with each passing day.
When you reached your quarters Cassian lingered for a moment, his demeanor protective and gentle. He seemed reluctant to part ways, but he was satisfied to know you were safe for the night. "Make sure you rest well tonight," he said with his hand resting briefly on your back, his smile warm and lingering as he wished you a good night.
Retreating to your room, the echoes of the evening replayed in your mind. The laughter, Azriel's teasing, the soft, serious timbre of Cassian's voice asking to see you again. There was an excitement brewing within you. An eagerness for what these sessions and these new feelings might lead to. It was an intriguing mix of anticipation and a bit of nervousness, stepping into this newfound connection with Cassian, but every instinct told you it was a path worth exploring. As you settled down with thoughts of the next day’s training, and more importantly, of seeing Cassian again, it filled you with a warm sense of expectation and a quiet joy.
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Hey, I've been reading through your posts about how tourism and digital nomads and expats are gentrifying all kinds of cities and places in Spain and price out the locals and don't respect the culture and only put money in the hands of the wealthy.
I completely understand where you are coming from and what you're saying makes a lot of sense, but as an extranjero who wants to visit Spain, what are some things we can do to support the locals and also celebrate your culture while visiting?
Kaixo anon! Thanks for your message ^_^
I know that we all travel on a budget and are very much used to low costs in everything, and many of the suggestions I'm gonna write are quite more expensive than maybe other alternatives. This is another issue: affording ethical tourism is a privilege not many visitors have.
avoid big hotel chains and AirBnB. Instead, choose little, family-owned hotels. They usually are in villages not far from the big touristy town and also provide a calm space out of the noisy crowd.
avoid restaurant chains and fancy ones, since 99% of the times they're owned by a board of investors. Run away from those with menus displayed on blackboards written in English, they're usually unauthentic tourist traps with poor quality food. Instead, choose family restaurants offering homemade, real Spanish food. There are maaany of these, and they're a terrific experience.
if you're willing to buy some groceries, avoid supermarkets. Choose any good-looking fruit shop, or butcher's, or fishmonger's. Go to local markets and buy local produce.
if you're moving around, use public transportation or a bike. Avoid renting a car or boat and polluting our hometown and seas. If you're moving between towns, choose the train if possible instead of booking a flight.
And regarding the celebration part, some simple pieces of advice:
unless you're Latin or Mediterranean-looking, you're gonna be spotted as a guiri at first sight. You can do nothing to stop being a guiri, but don't behave like one. Since you're an easy target, be especially wary with your belongings and with people that suddenly approach you, they might be thieves. Don't walk with your map in hand 24/7. Leave your valuables at home or at your accomodation. Don't think Spain is your playground where local law doesn't apply to you because you're spending your money there. Behave like you would normally do at home.
many foreigners don't understand Spanish service. Waiters and waitresses won't be all smiles, sweet as candy, asking you non-stop how everything's going. That doesn't mean they're being rude to you and want you out, it's just a different culture: their job is to take your order, get your food, and give you the bill when asked for it. That's all the interaction you'll get. If you need more drinks or bread, you'll just have to politely attract their attention and they will help with your needs.
flow with Spanish schedule. Many tourists are entitled enough to ask for lunch at 12 or for dinner at 7. Of course this won't be a problem in tourist bars and restaurants, but everywhere else this just won't happen. Make sure to ask for the kitchen's working hours if you're interested in having a meal in a certain place and don't ask Spaniards to follow your guiri schedule.
use basic words in Spanish to be polite: buenos días, gracias, hasta luego. You don't need a Spanish proficiency certificate to leave a good impression after you leave and avoid that everyone thinks putos guiris again.
Learn about the different nations inside Spain before your visit. Don't expect flamenco shows in Donostia, or sangría in Santiago. Respect our pride: dressing up as a matador, donning a hat with the Spanish flag, or wearing it as a cape may be very unpleasant and rude for the locals in Catalunya, Euskadi, Galiza, etc. Do your homework prior to your visit and you'll enjoy it much much more, since you'll be able to appreciate all the different cultures that live together around here and what each of them has to offer you.
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bravo4iscool · 1 day
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a friends to lovers x reader for any of the 141 (you get to choose) where the reader is plus size and she avoids them touching her? Because she knows she's plus size and doesn't think this super attractive soldier would ever even like her, much less her body, and every time she is touched she kinda pulls away, but our soldiers are so down bad for her? 👀 And ultimately maybe she gets pulled onto a lap and immediately tries to get off? Smut or no smut, it's up to you!
Thank you lovely!! 💞💞
i like this. i like this very very much hehehehe. i chose simon (i always chose him, i really have to change that😭) (i hope you're okay with that tho. it's my personal headcanon that that man is a chubby chaser by heart lol).
as someone who's also plus-size i adore requests like this so much! i hope i could write it the way you imagined it :)
also, sorry this took me so long😭. i had a bit of a slump lol (also, please give me feedback on the smut part, i never really write smut🥲 and im a virgin lmao)
smut, plus-size!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, fem!reader, not proof-read!
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REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!
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"don't touch me simon," you mumble as you push his hands away. "you know i don't like that..." you shuffle away from him and clutch the little notepad you scribble down your customers orders.
he frowns—as always—and gives you a small smile. “‘m sorry lovie. i forgot.”
you nod and straighten your back. “your usual?” you ask, already knowing that he’ll answer with yes. and he does. then you look at the rest of the team, one eyebrow raised. it was rare that they took something else than their usual.
“positive,” price replies, as well as gaz.
“i’ll take whatever ye gimme,” johnny winks and you feel yourself blush. simon just rolls his eyes. he’s getting fed up with his best friend already.
you give johnny a honest smile and scribble something down. “10 minutes and i will be back with your drinks,” you tell them, turning to leave.
once you were out of reach johnny elbowed simon into the side, a devilish smirk on his face. “have ye told ye lassie that ye like her?” he wants to know, wiggling with his eyebrows.
“zip it johnny,” simon only grumbles, starting to bounce his knee. “i ain’t tellin’er nothin’.”
“but why? ye clearly like her.” johnny frowns. if he were in simon’s position he would’ve shot his shot weeks, if not months ago. you were—you were perfection. those curves, those hips and—god forbid—your stomach.
you were hypnotising and you didn’t even know it. johnny didn’t understand how simon could just sit and watch you. he would’ve done anything to get a taste of you, or even just a glance.
“she ain’t interested n’me johnny,” simon sighs after a moment of silence. “i won’t destroy what we have over my stupid feelings.” and with that the debate was over for simon.
before johnny could answer you return with the drinks, placing them down onto the table. “here ya go,” you smile.
“thanks lassie,” johnny grins, patting your hand. you immediately pull away.
you try to overplay it. “no problem. let me know if you need anything else.” you leave with hurried steps, praying you wouldn’t encounter touch again this evening.
-
‘fuck’ you thought when you realize: all seats were taken. this was not good, nope. you just wanted to turn around and leave without anyone taking a notice of you.
but then soap notices you, “ey lassie. com’ere!” he smiles and waves at you. with hesitant steps you walk in his and simon’s direction. giving a apologetic look to the other people. this was a movie night, not some coffee gossip round. it was rare that you were on base and on most occasions you tried to avoid it but johnny and gaz practically begged you to come so you had no other chance than to say yes.
a few moments later you stood in front of the group of men—your friends—unsure what to do. were you just gonna sit on the ground or… before you can even finish that thought a arm wraps around your waist and someone pulls you into their lap. you can‘t suppress a small yelp, your eyes blow wide.
“‘s j‘st me,“ simon whispers into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you wanted to leave. now.
“simon,“ you hiss. “let me go. i‘m way too heavy for you—“
but instead of following your request his arm around your waist only tightens. “i‘m a big guy. i can handle it,“ he only says in a low voice. with that the topic was done for him and you knew arguing wouldn‘t make sense. once simon was determined about something there was no way to chance his mind.
so, you sat in his lap the whole movie, squirming from time to time; afraid you were too heavy for him, afraid that you would hurt him in any way. meanwhile, his hands were caressing our waist, pulling you closer to him so you‘d stop wiggling around. if you wouldn‘t stop he‘d some have a problem…
beside simon johnny was throwing side glances at him, smirking when he noticed the struggles his best friend was having. he wished he was in that position… if only he‘d been a tad faster than simon you‘d sit in his lap right now and he knew he wouldn‘t be the same after than.
“y‘alright lassie?“ johnny asks as soon as the movie is over and the lights got turned on. your face was red and your pupils blown wide. you only manage a nod, trying your best to get off simon‘s lap as normal—and fast—as possible.
“i think—i think i‘ll go home now. i have work tomorrow morning,“ you smile, still embarrassed. “i hope i‘ll see you tomorrow or are you shipping out?“
“not for at least two weeks,“ simon answers and you nod and turn to leave but then he gets up too and you stop in your tracks. you raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “‘m gonna get ya home,“ he simply says and you nod again.
“alright. see you soon guys,“ you wave your goodbyes to gaz and johnny.
once you and simon where out of reach johnny started to smirk. “ohhhh, he‘s tryna get laid,“ he laughs, glancing at gaz beside him.
“100%“ the other man agrees, hiding his laughter behind his hand. “the question is if she‘s understanding all the signs…“
-
you unlock your door, simon towering over you from behind, his presence like a burning sensation you couldn‘t seem to ignore. “and we‘re there,“ you chuckle, stepping aside. “you can, uh, leave now,“ you tell him but instead of turning around he takes a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him.
“what if i don‘t want to?“ he asks, slowly coming closer to you. “what…if i want to spend the night with you, mh?“ he‘s looking down at you, his hand itching towards to your face.
you swallow, trying to hold his gaze; it seemed impossible. “why would you want that?“ you want to know, unable to phantom any reason he—out of all men—would want to spend a night with you.
he smiles at your question and lowers his head. “because i like you,“ is his answer before he starts to trails kisses down your throat. your breath gets caught and your hands rush to grip his arms. what was happening right now? this must be a dream…
"if you want t'stop, tell me," he mumbles against your neck, slowly pushing you back until your back hits your drawer. you swallow but turn your head to give him more space. it just felt so good.
your breath hitches when he finds your weak spot. "i don't want to stop," you manage to say and you feel him smirk against your skin.
he scoops you up into his arms and you yelp. "that was what i wanted t'hear," he says and seconds later his lips collide with yours as he makes his way to your bedroom. you feel like a feather in his arms, so light and free.
"been wantin' t'do this f'r a long time," simon breathes against your lips when he gently drops you down onto your bed and he pulls back. "y'look so beautiful..." his eyes admire you and you start to blush. you weren't used to being appreciated like that. especially not by men like simon.
he sits up, kneeling in front of you. then he pulls off his shirt in a smooth motion, tossing it aside. your eyes widen and you swallow again. oh steaming jesus, he looked better than you thought–
and suddenly you get aware of your looks again. you try to hide behind your arms as fast as possible, not wanting simon to see but he beats you to it. with gentle hands he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. "why're you doing that, mh?" he wants to know and you avert your gaze.
"i...don't know..." you mumble. "i just–"
he cuts you off before you can finish, "y'think i don't find ya attractive, do ya?" your blush is answer enough and he bents down. "you're the most attractive woman i've ever laid m'eyes upon..." he tells you in a whisper, placing kisses upon your face.
"you don't–"
"oh, i mean it. with every fiber of my being," he, again, cuts you off, not wanting you to doubt his attraction to you. you were beautiful, etheral even, and he didn't know how other men didn't see it. "let me worship you," he pleads, kissing your lips.
he pulls slightly back again and looks in your eyes. he wanted your consent before continung. if you'd say no, he'd stop. if you'd say yes, he would ravish you.
you hesitate for a second before you drag him back down by his neck and press a kiss to his lips. "please," you choke out, looking at him with hooded eyes.
he smiles, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it upwards. "your wish is my command love." with gentle hands he starts to undress you, trailing kisses all over your body. he wanted to you to feel good about yourself, to feel attractive.
and with every passing moment he was itching down towards your core, smirking when he feels you twitching and shuddering.
“si—simon,” you moan when his lips ghost over your clothed cunt.
he does it again, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “shhhh,” he coos, his tumb caressing your thigh. “b’good f’r me, will ya?” he was straining himself to not rip your clothes off when he started undressing you piece by piece. he wanted to cherish you, burn the image of you sprawled across your bed—naked—into his mind. who knew when he’d be able to see you like that again?
it felt like a haze, the way he was undressing and worshipping your body, his eyes rarely leaving yours. he wanted to you feel seen, to feel lusted after because that was exactly what he was doing.
he came face to face with you again, his lips finding yours while his hand cupped your pussy. your breath hitched. “so ready for me,” he chuckles, his tumb carefully starting to stimulate your clit.
a whine escapes you when he pulls his hand back after a few moments and he can’t suppress a smirk. “oh, ya needy, aren’t ya?” you only manage a nod, your mouth falling open when you feel him slipping one finger inside. “gon’ work ya well open first, love,” he tells you before he starts to litter you with kisses again.
with a steady rhythm he pumps his finger in and out of you, trying to pay attention to your body’s reaction as best as possible. he wanted to make this about you and you only.
he was sucking bruises onto your skin while moans dripped past your lips. oh, he felt like he was in heaven. “keep makin’ them sounds f’r me love,” he mumbles as he starts to hump your bed. his dick was painfully hard by now and he needed to feel some relief.
you gasp and writhe and whine, grabbing his arm to feel something between your hands. “please simon,” you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. “i wanna—“ he shuts you up with a kiss.
“i know what ya want.” and exactly that is the moment your orgasm ripples through you. a dragged out moan leaves your mouth and your fingernails bore into the flesh of his arms. “j’st like that,” simon coos, carefully removing his hand from your cunt.
you gasp for air as you come down from your high, still not 100% sure if this was real; because it didn’t feel like it. you release simon’s arms from your grip, swallowing when you saw the marks you left.
in the meanwhile simon fully undressed himself, his painfully hard cock finally getting set free. he looked at you and a smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed you staring. he tugged at his cock before he crawled back onto the bed to hover about you.
you look up at him, unsure of what to do. it’s been probably years since you’ve last had sex. it wasn’t that much of a regular thing in your life.
“ya ready?” he asks you after he connects your lips in a gentle kiss. you nod and he carefully starts to open your legs further. “i’ll be gentle, yea?”
simon’s hands caress your thighs before he aligns his cock with your entrance and trains his eyes on you as he starts to push himself inside.
your mouth falls open and your hands find their way back to grip onto his arms. a tear slips past your eye and a loud moan drags past your lips. “simon—oh my god!”
he grunts, doing his best to hold himself back from restlessly pounding into you. he didn’t want to hurt you. “no god ‘ere love. only me.” he bends down to kiss you and one of his hands starts to stimulate your clit again.
when he fully bottomed out it took all of his self control to not come immediately. he’s dreamed of this for months, years even and not it was finally happening.
“takin’ me s’good,” simon whispers in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back, making you whine before he pushes them forward again, pulling another moan out of you. “this pussy was made for me, huh.” a cocky grin was on his face.
you nod and babble, too overwhelmed by that pleasure that was so unknown to you. “wanna be good for you,” you cry, clutching his arm with your hands. “please simon.”
he starts to trail kisses down your throat while he keeps his thrusts in a steady rhythm. he felt his orgasm building but he wouldn’t come before you didn’t. this wasn’t about him and his pleasure, this was about you.
you moan, “oh—oh—“ when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. “i’m gonna come simon,” your voice trembles.
“i know,” he grits out as he fastens his thrusts and keeps stimulation your clit. the way you were clenching around him had him seeing stars. you were so close.
and then he pushes you over the cliff, your orgasm rippling through you with a force you didn’t know as possible. your vision fades to black and your mouth falls open as simon fucks you through your orgasm.
he’s trying his best to keep his composure when you clench around him, almost milking him but he pushes through, managing a couple sloppy thrusts before he comes with a deep moan, fully burying himself inside you.
his eyes are closed as he tries to take a deep breath, a faint ‘i love you’ leaving his lips.
(i’m sorry the end is like that. i’m terrible at endings🧍🏼. i didn’t know how to properly cut this😭)
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