You can take it - Matt Casey [18+]

Requested: yes

Word count: 3,072

Warnings:… smut [teasing, degrading, praise, overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it), brief oral - f receiving, dirty talk, lots of begging..], cocky!matt 🫠

A/n: ohhhh my gooooood

Masterlist

Laying in bed with your boyfriend was the best part of your day. Always was. Especially when you just wanted to feel him around you in every way possible. Currently he had his arm under your neck, hand properly in your hair, just absentmindedly carding it through his fingers.

The opposite arm was resting on your hip, hand intertwined with yours as you let out a soft sigh. “You know what would look,” You started, pulling his hand just slightly up your side. Matt hummed faintly, glancing down at you regardless of the fact he couldn’t see your face. “Really good around my neck?”

For some reason just feeling Matt’s skin against yours had arousal bubbling in your abdomen, shifting just slightly to look up at him. His eyebrows were pulled together, eyes locked into yours. Gently you pulled at his fingers, the realization hitting on his face, “Oh-” In all honesty, he’d never even thought about choking.

Sure, he’d seen it done plenty of times in the porn he’d seen, but actually doing it? That was a different level. But as you nodded, dropping his hand and leaning over him to kiss him, he decided that he would do literally anything you wanted.

Not that that wasn’t already true. He’d find a way to walk on water if you had asked him to. But now, as your lips locked onto his, the roughness grew until he couldn’t stand being underneath you anymore.

Easily he flipped you onto your back, fingers trailing over your hips and up your sides. Matt slipped his hand under the loose shirt of his that you had on, “God you look so good in my clothes.” He muttered, leaving small marks from your jaw and down your neck that were certainly going to be there tomorrow.

That was his thing, he loved making sure everyone that worked with you knew that just because you were a bartender at a club didn’t mean you were free for them to grab at. You were taken and by a guy that would not hesitate to break someone’s face in for you.

“I think I look better without them,” You whispered in his ear, hearing the deep breath he sucked in. As smoothly as he could, he lifted the t-shirt, pulling it off and throwing it blindly to the side, face immediately going to your cleavage.

Now, you weren’t exactly cursed with a small chest and Matt would gladly live in the valley of your breasts if he could. One of his hands lifted, massaging one of them, his lips trailing underneath the other before they caught onto the nipple.

If he had the chance to get his mouth on you he took it and you adored every second of it. “Matt…” Your voice was breathy, back lifting into his touch as he softly sucked, a whine making its way through your lips.

Matt shifted himself between your legs, nudging them apart with his knee. Without much thinking you bucked your hips down, craving some sort of friction on your heat that only he could give you. And he did, moving his own down, the bulge under his sweatpants rubbing across you.

It wasn’t enough though, your hands snaking their way down, pulling him back against you with a press on his lower back. “You got yourself all worked up haven’t you?” Matt hummed, pulling away to get his own shirt off, a hand sliding over your shoulder.

He knew where you wanted him to touch you. And he could almost tell how badly but instead Matt pulled away, standing to kick his sweatpants off. You figured he’d come right back to you but instead, he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

A gasp slipped from your mouth as he leaned forward, kissing along your stomach before reaching your mouth again. “Now where did you want these?” He mumbled against your lips, ghosting his fingertips over every possible bit of open skin he could.

Down your sides, up your thighs, just barely touching your skin as he slid his palm up your stomach. Every ghost of a touch brought goosebumps to your body. “Matt please,” You pleaded, the only layers of clothing on either of you feeling like a tease all of its own.

“Please what princess? Touch you?” Matt’s eyebrow cocked up as he pulled your hips flush to the end of the mattress. “Cause I can touch you.” He just slowly pushed up, his barely covered length rubbing against the exact place you wanted, no, needed him.

You let out a whine, squirming slightly which did nothing but make him push you down by the waist. “Oh c’mon, you can take my teasing can’t you? You’re usually so good about it.” Matt dragged his palm down, gripping tightly at your upper thigh.

His thumb slid up the soaking piece of clothing you still had on, circling your clit just slightly before he pulled away. “Or are you feeling like a little slut tonight? I mean coming onto me about wanting my hand around your throat? Can’t get any worse than that.” Matt watched as your face twisted up, aching for anything more.

As soon as you tried to rock up against him he sighed, “I guess that answers that question, can barely use your words and you want me to believe you can take it tonight?” The cockiness that came out of him when he was horny was something nobody would ever believe.

This was Matt Casey, Lieutenant Matt Casey that was nothing but a leader and front man for his firefighters. But when he was with you? The nastiest words that came out of his mouth felt like they were getting spit right onto your cunt and he knew it.

God did he know how you got when he spoke to you the way he was. “I can.” You muttered, breath already heavy as you tried to control the way your body felt like it was burning. Matt tilted his head, lifting an eyebrow.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, knowing that him pressing against you was only working you up more but that’s exactly what he wanted. “You what?”

Thickly you swallowed, throbbing against him. “I can take it.” You reiterated, voice filled with desperation. “Please, Matt.” You bit at your lip, hands planted on the mattress next to you to keep from traveling down your own body.

Softly he hummed, fingers finally looping into the upper band of your underwear, just slightly pulling at them. “Oh you can?” Matt spoke, pulling the final layer off of you, hands instantly going right underneath the wetness.

You nodded instantly, his fingers inching closer to your entrance and it felt like if you had to wait any longer you’d explode. “Yes, yes I can, Matt just – fuck please.” Your pleading only did so much, the man obliging in the slightest as he let just his thumb land on the sweet spot you’d been dying for him to actually touch.

He barely moved it, painfully slowly encircling you. It was obvious from the look on your face that it wasn’t enough, that you wanted more and more but with Matt, the build up was what mattered the most.

“I could see how wet you are without even having to touch you, such a dirty girl,” He mumbled, leaning over you slightly, “Aren’t you?” His words were rhetorical, eyes moving down your body, soaking all of you in.

Matt sighed, slightly picking the pace up as he touched you, unsure how long he’d be able to hold off, his cock already aching and no doubt bright red as he worked you over. “Matt baby, please, I need you.”

Him touching you could only go so far, you wanted him deep and buried inside of you. “I’m not exactly done with you yet,” He was quick to respond, too busy enjoying the way you were practically squirming trying to get more friction.

That of course only made his other hand grip at your hip, tightly pushing it down, “Stay still or you won’t get anything that you want.” His threat pulled a whimper from you, fighting to stop your movements. “There you go, such a good slut for me, hm?” He hummed, rolling his thumb over you quicker as a slight reward.

Just as soon as he’d done that he fully pulled his hands away, instead shifting to kiss down your stomach, eyes up on your face as your breathing picked up. He knew how worked up you got with his mouth on you.

So it wasn’t that shocking that you felt his hot breath on your already aching skin followed by his tongue gliding through your slit. “Fuck–” Your breath caught, forcing your eyes shut to keep your body from lifting or even moving against the bed.

It wasn’t easy, each movement pushed you closer to breaking his one request. “Matt please,” You could barely focus on his movements, his tongue coming up to flick over your swollen and red bud. “I can’t–” A knot slowly built itself in your stomach, willing to be pushed over the edge.

But just like he knew what got to you, Matt always knew when you were close. So with one last kiss to your clit he stood again, the air now cold where his mouth had been. “I guess you’ve been good enough tonight,” He stated, slipping out of his boxers, finally letting himself free.

You couldn’t bite back the whine of desperation that grew as your eyes fell on his length. A smirk grew on his face as he stepped towards the end of the bed again. “Now, if I’m gonna give you what you want, you’re gonna give me what I want.” Matt trailed his fingers up you, cupping your cheek.

“Anything, just please fu–”

“Fuck you, I know baby, and I will, as long as you let everyone know who is fucking you.” He slid his hand from your face to the side of your neck, leaning down to kiss you. “Can you do that for me?” His voice was raspy, so filled with lust that you could have came untouched just hearing it in your ear.

Instantly you nodded, willing to agree to anything if it meant him in you. “Yes, yes, I can.” You didn’t have a chance to get anything else out, Matt slipping into you slowly, your head falling back.

A low groan built in Matt’s throat, having to still inside you to keep from busting right then and there. “God, you always feel so good around me.” He leaned his head down, just slightly rolling his hips forward.

“Matt–”

He shifted slightly, letting his hand splay on your chest, just inches from where you wanted it earlier, and where you still wanted it now. But of course he wasn’t going to give in that easily. And you could tell with each painstakingly slow thrust that he was going to take his time with this the same way as he did his teasing.

Your hands went up to his arm, squeezing, finding anyway to ground yourself to him that wasn’t in the way of pleasure forcing itself through your body. But his every touch made your skin burn, like it was all on fire.

You were a flame and he was the oxygen that kept it going. He didn’t seem to mind the way you let your other hand slide across your chest, just wanting to feel something more, anything. And your fingers trailing over your boobs did just that, a guttural moan escaping your mouth.

“Baby please go faster,” Your words were low but he heard them, just slightly building himself up, your legs hiking up around him. Each thrust felt like he was trying to get you over the edge but none did it, the feeling instead coercing through your veins.

His name was pulled out of you again, louder as his free hand lapped at your clit, slowly and in the opposite way his hips moved against yours. “You like that?” Matt looked down at you, twisting his fingers around you as he did. “When I touch you like this?” He cocked his eyebrow up.

“Y- yes, god so much.” Your words were mixed with moans as he sped up, unable to keep up the teasing thrusts, his own arousal building as he let out a heavy breath. “God, Matt, you’re–” You got cut off with a scream as he shifted, hitting that sweet spot right inside of you.

There was no way those living around you didn’t hear the way his name flew out of your mouth, hell, it’d be insane if they couldn’t hear the way your skin was slapping together. The slickness doing nothing but making it easier for him to slide in and out.

Just as you started to build up again, you looked up at Matt, grabbing his wrist. It wasn’t enough, you needed his hand. Matt wrapped it just enough around your throat, using the grasp to brace himself as he jutted forward harsher, your entire body shifting underneath him.

You gazed up at him, entire body overwhelmed as you grew closer and closer, “Tighter,” You moaned out, his name following as you felt his grip tighten just enough that you instantly clenched around him.

His name filled the room, moans mixing together with his as he worked you through it. “You just love when I have my hand around you, hm? Love being here for my own discretion?” Matt leaned forward, biting at your shoulder. “Being a dirty whore for me?”

You whimpered softly, nodding. How did you end up here? Casually saying that hey, your hand around my neck would be nice to him pumping into you so hard you knew you were going to be sore before the night was even over.

Not that you were complaining, every movement that he did made your heart race, one final squeeze of his hand officially sending you over the edge.

Every part of you shook, your heels digging into Matt’s lower back as you lifted slightly, being pushed back down as he continued into you.

There was no way he was one and doning you, no, he had plans now. And it was obvious from the way he didn’t stop, didn’t slow that he was sure he was going to get you through it more than once. More than twice. Maybe even more than three times.

And that just made your pussy ache more than it already was. You were already dripping and the whoreish sounds coming from both your body and mouth practically shoved Matt over the edge.

His voice was low as your name slipped like honey off of his lips, his face pressing to your skin as he fucked you through his own orgasm. His warmth filled you up and you didn’t even care that he hadn’t pulled out.

You didn’t care if this ended with you pregnant. All that mattered was how good everything felt. And god did it feel amazing. Matt’s thrusts only slightly slowed in an attempt to catch his breath, his hands still clamped onto you.

That’s the only reason you knew he wasn’t pulling out anytime soon. And that you were definitely in for at least a handful of more rounds.

“You feel so fucking good Matt Jesus—“ You groaned out loudly, face red as you reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Your lips together always felt like someone set off fireworks and shoved you two together as they went off. Practically heaven on earth.

Plus when you were together at the same time? Matt was basically a fucking angel. Literally. He pulled back, pulling you up. “You still doing okay?” He whispered, making sure he wasn’t being too rough during all of this.

And he wasn’t. It was the perfect mixture of roughness that had you weak in the knees for him. And as you nodded he peppered an army of kisses over your face.

Gently he slid out of you, standing and holding out his hand to pull you to your feet. He was aware at how wobbly you were but in seconds you were pushed against the wall with his chest to your back, his arms wrapped around you tightly anyway.

His mouth left hot kisses over your shoulders, brushing your hair out of the way as he moved up to suck a mark onto your neck. “You’re so beautiful baby,” his words mumbled against your skin.

All you could do was hum, your body still sensitive as his hands caressed everywhere he could touch. “So, so beautiful.” Matt continued under his breath before pushing back into you.

A moan slid off his lips, reverberating on your skin as he trailed his hand back up your chest. “You have been doing…” a soft bite to the shoulder, “so good for me.” A firm thrust, his hand properly grabbing at your throat in time.

Your knees wobbled as you braced yourself to the wall, Matt’s thrusts almost bringing tears to your eyes. He relentlessly moved against you, holding onto you tightly, the exact way he knew you wanted.

Somehow the blonde was always, always so detail oriented. His fingers traced or touching exactly where they needed to, like he knew exactly what buttons to press to make you orgasm again and again.

Like how right now his grip was just tight enough that you were already building up a second time, the dopamine rushing through your veins. “Matt, Matt I’m already close I—“ Your word loud against the wall as his other hand snaked over your hips, holding you tautly to him.

“Go ahead princess,” He hummed, the breath on the back of your neck being the final nail as your knees buckled, vibrating against him as you fell into pieces under his touch.

Your eyes saw white as your orgasm crashed over you, forehead leaning onto the wall along with a string of profanities.

And he didn’t stop, face twisting up as he continued into you. “Matt-“

“You wanted this right? To cum oh so badly.” He hummed, the two of you ready for an incredibly long night that would have you aching for at least the next two days.

JOIN MATTS TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @halsteadbrasil, @wnbweasley, @firetruckstuckley

claws buried deep (bite down)

take ~1k of dinosaur smut, with bonus cold-hearted old bastard (only on ao3)

keep me intact - chapter 6

Chapter summary:

Akiteru is a liar.

Fic tags:

Tsukkiyama / Slow Burn / Childhood friends / Canon compliant (mostly) / t4t (trans boy Tsukishima and trans boy Yamaguchi) / Kei POV

Read chapter 6

Read full fic

Midori: Origins of the Ouroboros

Uuuuuuh fhdgsgsh i finished my little lore document for what happened to Midori and how her story continues after. I dont have everything 100% planned out yet, but hopefully the read is good.

To Midori. I hope you will forgive me, one day. For everything.

Back during the time of the FSM, there was a time where the serpentine had not been created, but the Overlord had been defeated. Before his destruction, he swore that the actions of the FSM will only lead to his continued suffering. 

The FSM became known for being the creator of Ninjago and its defender, and as towns and civilizations grew, they worshiped and praised the one who made it possible. Whether he intended to or not, he became a figurehead in some. Despite this, he never viewed himself as a deity or royalty, and found himself alone despite being among people.

The oni believed he was weak. The dragons believed he was an abomination. Here, he was a deity. No matter the label given to him, it was hard to believe he even had a place here. That he truly belonged and felt like a person.

That is, until he met Midori. 

She was considered, by all means, unimportant. Had a normal upbringing, grew up to own a tea shop and grew her own teas. In her village it was customary for farmers to pay a tribute in hopes of the FSM controlling the weather. She thought it ridiculous, as he never seemed to do so, and confronted him on extorting the locals. In reality, the FSM had never told anyone that he could, and actually didn’t want any offerings or tributes of any sort, but most ignored him. 

Both were shocked at meeting each other. Midori couldn’t believe someone of such great power could be so humble, and the FSM was surprised she wasn’t afraid to rebuke him and treat him as a person. 

Their meeting should have ended there, but the FSM continued to think about her, and this visited her in her shop in secret to avoid the attention of other villagers. She taught him how to work alongside her in the shop, and as the two began to know each other, they fell in love. Eventually, they decided their relationship would be a secret no longer, as Midori was announced to be the FSM’s wife. Despite the sudden change of status and the regalities bestowed upon her for marrying Ninjago’s creator, she was still the same woman he fell in love with.

Midori was headstrong, honest, hardworking and brazen. What was in her mind she would say no matter with who, and above all else supported the FSM and reminded him to stand up for himself if he did not wish to be treated as a god. 

Eventually however, the two sought to have children in peace, and journeyed away from their past home. 

As Midori finally gave birth, the two eventually began to interact with civilization a bit more, and for a brief moment, the family was content with their lives, being welcomed by the world, raising two infant children, and with each other. Until one day, Midori wandered far into a nearby forest in search of rare plants/herbs she believed she could find there. During her exploration, she encountered a dark substance nestled into a rock. She did not realized it was a piece of the Overlord’s own body, and as she inspected it, it suddenly became absorbed in her body, and she collapsed. When the FSM finally found her, it was too late. She grew up with a terrible illness no medicine could cure, and he realized she was overtaken by the ancient evil power of his enemy. Unable to fully handle the power of even a sliver of the Overlord’s energy, he knew her body and spirit would undergo a transformation to adapt to it. Despite all of this, he promised his wife a cure, and that he would never leave her side. Midori was hidden in the upper floor of their house, for fear of the dark power hurting their own children, and the FSM’s time was divided by helping Ninjago, raising Wu and Garmadon on his own, keeping Midori company, and looking for answers. But he could not find any, as the Overlord’s power was more potent than anything in Ninjago, and came from a world he could not bring himself to go back to. As he grew more desperate for a solution, he visited Midori less and less, and her condition grew worse. The Overlord’s power evolved to become her own, and Midori became repulsed and horrified as her lower torso grew into a sepert-like tail, and magical venom coursed into her veins. She despised her situation, and despite the FSM’s warning, occasionally left her room to explore and traverse through town hidden away from everyone. But she wasn’t perfect, and eventually the villagers told the FSM of a terrible monster they saw in the woods. The two grew frustrated with each other, and the FSM still had no way of knowing how to cure his wife. He decided to go to the Cloud Kingdom in search of answers. Unfortunately, the prophecy relayed by the Cloud Kingdom could not soothe the FSM’s mind. Instead of Midori being cured, it was predicted that her curse would overtake her and doom their entire family, and future generations, into misery. It was suggested to the FSM that he destroy her and the curse that lives within her, but he vehemently refused, distraught over the woman he loved possibly hurting their sons. Still unable to confront the powers of the Overlord, he realized that he could buy himself and his wife more time to avoid this destiny if she was unable to reach the children if she became fully corrupted. However, he was unable to bring up this plan to her as she became more out of control and furious with him over a lack of a cure. In her mind, she feared he was abandoning him, leaving her to suffer in silence and isolation while he pretended everything was normal. She hadnt even been able to see her kids, and the two were at a standstill. Fearing that the time was near, and having no solutions, the FSM decided to seal her away while she had been sleeping. Unfortunately, she had woken up to see him and assumed he was going to kill her. The two fought, and Midori managed to escape, but not before biting the FSM. Unknowingly, their powers converged, and Midori discovered she had the power to create life, while the FSM felt the Overlord’s power within him, but in a sedentary state. It was then that he realized his powers were slowly being drained for him, as well as his immortality. It was then that a secret battle waged between the FSM and Midori. She created the Serpentine to serve as mindless minions to destroy the world the FSM created, only for him to intervene and prevent disaster, as she once again fled. In the aftermath, he did not want to destroy Midori’s creations, as he still felt fondness for his wife and did not want to destroy these living beings. He instead lied to them that he was their creator, in hopes they’d be unshackled by their shallow purpose in life to destroy, and could live in harmony in this world. However, he could not stop the fighting between Serpentine and Human, and when they sepeparated, could only hope keeping to themselves would still offer some sort of peace. However, he would not live long enough to see that peace. He never told his sons about his hidden ailment, as he fought to keep it at bay and not show that his powers were being drained from him. He still managed to live for hundreds of years, but as his life started to fade, and unable to find Midori, he sought refuge in once again, another prophecy. And he learned that his power would not be fully destroyed, but inherited in it’s full potential by someone. That person would have the key to either repairing the broken bonds of the world, or destroying them entirely. Eventually, he gave in to his illness, and passed away. He did not let them see it, but he was terrified of the world he was leaving to his sons and his creations. How his mistakes and decisions led to possible endless conflicts, and how he yearned for his wife to return somehow, but afraid of what she would do to their family.  Midori, after her failed attempt to weaponize the Serpentine, still interfered in their lives, creating the Great Devourer, sending false prophecies and inciting further conflict in the shadows. She had to wait not just until her husband's passing, but also observe her family and Ninjago to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. While the FSM believed in destiny, she believed the only predetermined thing was cycles; that everything was bound to repeat itself. That  the misery she had undergone would be paid tenfold, that the conflicts of her and her beloved would echo in the conflict between human and serpentine, and break the bonds their family had so briefly. So she had no qualms with creating the snake that would eventually attack her own son, or watching and the Green Ninja, the inheritor of the combined powers of the FSM, suffer through the burden of his destiny and the events that followed. However, her hatred never became satiated, and she still wallowed in the loss of the life she once had. And suddenly, she had a plan. One that would be the ultimate revenge upon the FSM and grant her the life she so desired. In her eyes, the snake would continue to eat itself, and she was going to let that cycle destroy her grandson. He would be the key to her husband’s eternal punishment.

Happy (almost) New Year!! It’s Jangle Ball Gift Exchange time!

This is a ficlet for my assignment @dontsteponthatfish! I hope you’re able to enjoy it, I sure enjoyed writing it <3

(tropes: family, conflicted relationships/feelings. characters: ted, pete, brief appearances of bill and mr. davidson)

@hatchetfield-bang

Ted furrowed his brow, chewing roughly at the end of a pen. He leaned back in his office chair, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, uninterested in his work. He pointedly ignored the sound of Mr. Davidson making his way down the office, checking in on everyone.

As his thoughts wandered, far away from work, he caught something in the corner of his eye. "Shit." He pursed his lips, pushing aside some of the clutter on his desk; he stopped when he found it.

A picture of him and Pete from a number of years ago that Ted couldn't quite remember. Maybe seven? Six? It didn't matter, he thought. His fingers rested on the photo, as he looked at it idly.

"Ah," He hummed. He and his brother had just gone to some sort of museum for Pete's birthday. He remembered how excited that little kid was to be there. And with Ted, of all people...

Had he been doing enough for Pete lately? As an older brother? His life had been going downhill for years, it was hard to tell where he was slipping.

He gripped and messed with the photo's frame idly, zoned out, when he heard, "Getting those reports done, Ted?"

Ted took a deep breath, "Yeah. Mr. Davidson." He muttered, reluctantly taking his hand away from the picture frame.

"Great." His boss walked away from his office, and Ted lightly knocked on his desk, as he glanced back to his computer.

"Yeah, Ted." Someone else called. He groaned, looking through his open door to see Bill looking back at him. "You could at least make the effort to look like you're working, instead of... looking at secret things on your desk."

Ted glared daggers at him, scowling. "Shut up, Woodward. Like you're any fuckin' better than me. You spend half the time on Facebook messenger. And I don't say shit about that." He turned back before Bill could respond, and as his phone started ringing, to his annoyance, his eyes briefly landed on him and Pete once again.

——

Beating a fist on his steering wheel, Ted contemplated himself in his reflection. He'd spent the rest of yesterday ruminating, half-heartedly answering calls and typing up reports while sticking with those thoughts of his brother.

Unusual, it would seem to other people, he knew that. But he actually cared to know if Pete still feels happy spending that kind of time with him.

So, here he sat, parked a little away from his parents' home. He cringed at the sight. Nonetheless, he opened his car door, and stepped out, looking up at the house.

"Only good thing about this place is Pete," He muttered to himself scornfully, walking up to the door, hoping to whoever was out there that his brother would be the one to answer as he decidedly knocked a couple times.

Ted only had time to pull his hand back before the door opened, "Ted?" Pete stood there, and the man in question sighed in relief. The teen's tone and expression had a touch of pleasant surprise.

"Hey, kid," Ted huffed lightly, fixing up his shirt. "Ah, how are ya?"

"Good..." Pete answered. He was still searching his brother, "You? I mean, how are you? Uh, what're you doin' here?"

Ted would've felt defensive about it if it weren't for the happy twinge to his words. Instead, he felt a smile ghost on his face. "'M fine. Just... visiting, y'know. Bad time?"

Pete looked back into the house, then back at Ted. "No! Not at all, um, mom and dad are actually out right now, so..." He trailed off. "Sorry, did you want to come in?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Ted teased; Pete laughed lightly. The man let that smile fully form on his face as he walked into the house. He looked around; the place did not give him any comfort.

Pete cleared his throat, "I don't think you came here to talk to our parents," He mentioned, messing with his hands.

"Hell no. Not casually. I wanted to talk to you, Pete." Ted saw the way his brother lit up, as subtle as it was. He knew him.

Pete chuckled nervously. "Oh. Cool. Yeah." He took a seat on the sofa. "Did… did something happen?"

"No. I mean… shit, I just wanted to check up on ya, kid. I felt..." Ted paused, that overwhelming sense of vulnerability becoming more clear.

"...You felt?" Pete repeated. "Are you okay, Ted?"

"I'm fine. Just fine." The man cracked his knuckles, feelings conflicted and weighing heavy on his mind.

He watched Pete look at him carefully and sighed roughly, "Listen, I haven't been on top of the whole brother thing. That's all. I'm not doin' that great." He sits right down next to Pete, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh, um..."

Before Pete could finish, "Is that weird?" Ted said outright. He leaned forward, rested his arms on his knees. "God. Never mind, I shouldn't'a just sprung that on you, huh? Ah, wow, I'm really fucking this up," He cringed.

"No! No, uh, it's okay," Pete rambled. He rocked slightly in place as he spoke, "I mean, you're not bad... I don't think so, at least, you know?"

"Mm. Yeah?" Ted glanced over at his brother, who smiled subtly in return.

"Yeah. Uh, I think that... you don't really do that well with just.. expressing that stuff. No offense—“ Pete started; Ted let out a chuckle despite himself.

"No, you're right. None taken,"

“—But I remember. I remember how you do. Like, I've got good memories! There's a lot more than you might think about, um... I consider a lot of things we've done together good, ha,” The teen commented, awkward.

Ted's gaze softened, then rested against the back of the couch, his arm laid across it.

That was certainly not something he'd have believed if he tried to convince himself of it. But really, when the words are coming from his own brother, with that genuine lilt to them, it was hard not to.

"Is that right?" Ted muttered. "So, good, huh?"

"Yeah. 'M serious." Pete said.

"Eeeven though I'm an asshole?"

"Yes!" laughed Pete.. "Obviously, yeah. I wouldn't say I thought so if I didn't consider that, Ted. It's hard to ignore,"

"Cuttin' me deep, kid," Ted joked, tapping him on the shoulder lightheartedly. "That's incredible. If I'd known you thought that about this bastard, I wouldn't have let this situation stop me from doing my job,"

Pete raised his eyebrows. "You mean you actually do your job? You told me you sucked at it." He grinned as Ted looked at him, amused.

"No kidding. You really do remember a lot. Think I said those words to ya that a couple years ago, at least." said Ted, softly.

"I told you. Even though you can be a real jerk sometimes, I always know you care about me, Ted." Pete pulled his knees up to his chest. "Clearly. You do a lot of nice actions for me, when you can. I notice."

"Good. Good..." The man gripped at the sofa idly, humming. "Probably needed to hear you call me a jerk," He added, sincere.

"You're welcome." Pete intoned, grinning. He scooted closer to Ted, with a teasing pat on his shoulder, "Just try 'n use your words more. It'll be good for you."

"I get it," Ted drawled, with playful exasperation. "I'm getting advice from a child. I've reached a new low, huh?"

"I'm not a child,"

"Close enough." shrugged Ted.

"Not true," Pete chimed. "Uh, but, I... guess if you don't feel like you're doin' enough, we could go do something. Together?"

A smile played on Ted's lips. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah! You know, like, we could go to Beanie's. Maybe?"

"Sure." Ted softened. Then, "Their stuff is fucking awful, but that just brings up more conversation, right?"

"Exactly."

They sat in silence for a couple moments before either made a move. As Ted was about to bring up leaving right then, Pete leaned forward and feelingly pulled him into a hug.

He returned it immediately. They stayed that way for a good few minutes before deciding they should probably go on their way.

write me well, my love

Whoof, I haven't written fic in a hot minute. For @bunnies-in-the-archives 2023 I wrote 16k of a silly JMart romcom featuring Martin's embarrassing mistakes, Jon's willful ignorance, some cheesy poetry, awkward text messages, and as always, a happy ending.

Summary: Just before Jon leaves for China, Martin hands him a booklet intended to contain his research notes about the Circus of the Other. What it actually contains is Martin’s most recent poetry… and the first poem is titled “Jon”.

Read write me well, my love on AO3! Chapters 1–5 are up now, and the conclusion will post 5/22 after the event ends.

Excerpt:

“But hey, I’m pretty sure Jon hates poetry? So it’s even odds he’ll see it, get bored—no offence—and stop reading right away. As long as the first page isn’t way obvious, it shouldn’t be too incriminating.” Martin gave him a miserable look. - At 4:40 PM London time, Jon received a frantic email. Unfortunately for Martin, he wouldn’t see it for many hours yet. At 4:41 PM London time, 36.000 feet up in the air, he opened the notebook. ⠀⠀JON ⠀⠀There is a sigh in the slope of his shoulders. ⠀⠀His eyes are the harvest of late November...

I take requests

Posted my short story to its own book

Please read and give criticism!

Have a Sad MK

CW for grief, su*cide mention, heartbreak, d3ath metaphors

I am tired of being the vault to your trauma, holding on day after day to the weight you thrust into my hands because you thought you were drowning. I am tired of keeping my lips sealed like a crypt, letting everything I know about you rot in my mouth, as dry and unforgiving as death.

I am tired of knowing things about you that the people who know your face like the backs of their hands cannot even fathom. You were a secret I'd take to my grave, and I'm already dead to you.

I wish I could leave you in the ground where my feelings buried us, but sometimes flowers grow around the mossy marble marker and I can't help but to look at the mess you left behind in me.

I've kept you like an oath and you've only ever kept me like a promise with fingers crossed behind your back.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to day in remembrance of the way your fingertips were always picked at and your lips were always chapped. Of the way your eyes shone in the sunset and the way you smelled. Of the leaf you thrust into my hands when I wouldn't let you give me your shirt. Once dearly beloved, once totally in love with. Maybe I should've kissed you.

The note you handed me when you thought you'd never see me again still sits in my dresser. Carries as much weight as the one for you I burned when I realized I wanted to live.

You told me you were in love with me when it was already over. And now flowers crowd the space in my chest where I buried everything I felt when you told me you couldn't talk to me ever again.

Fuck off and die.

Distraction - Matt Casey | 18+

requested: yes

word count: 2,204

warnings: smut [unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, lowkey think some of it counts as a breeding kink? I don't actually know???]

a/n: ... jesus christ

Masterlist

[“You’re the worst type of distraction, you know?” ]

Matt was probably the most supportive boyfriend you had ever had. He’s had your back since your first day at 51. He wasn’t a lieutenant yet but he still had enough pull at the house that he was able to get some asshole off your back in the first hour.

And since then he’s been at your side. You were a paramedic, so it wasn’t like the crush that had grown between you two was against the rules. And you didn’t even get together for… a while. For lack of a better word. But once you guys were, it was the strongest bond anyone had seen.

Nothing but loyalty, trust and support. Especially now. You’d had enough of being a paramedic. Not knowing what happened to patients after you brought them in. Not being able to use the copious amount of medical knowledge you had in the field. All of it was so frustrating.

So you decided to go to actual medical school. Which was going well. No you weren’t the top of your class but you were pretty high in the ranks. Half of the younger students ignored the embarrassment they put on themselves to ask for your help, knowing that as a paramedic you must have known a fair amount of stuff.

Which you did. But that wasn’t without the excessive cramming you did in between shifts. Like right now. Matt had been asleep for a few hours by now, expecting you to join him by the time it hit midnight.

It was 2:30 in the morning now.

And even though you knew you should go to bed, you couldn’t. Not when you still didn’t know what the hell to look for on an MRI. “Baby, why are you still awake?” Matt’s groggy voice was followed by the scuffle of his feet across the floor, making their way down the hallway.

You glanced over at him, a pen tucked behind your ear and hair tied up loosely. It was neat before but strands were slowly falling out of it the more you tilted and turned your head. His voice made you jump slightly, eyes too focused on some highlighted words in your textbook.

“Huh?” He sat on the couch behind you, gesturing to the skewed papers. “Oh, studying. Go back to sleep,” You gave him a soft smile, feeling his arms go around your shoulders, pulling you towards him.

Matt placed a kiss to the top of your head, “Come to bed with me,” He muttered, his hands sliding down your arms to push a different pen from your hand, grabbing it in his. You laughed softly, feeling him kiss from your cheek to your jaw.

Lightly you hummed, giving way to him, “You are the worst type of distraction you know that?” You muttered, twisting your hand to hold his. Matt nodded faintly, leaning more to kiss your shoulder.

“I know, so let me distract you more, in bed, and you can pick this back up tomorrow. When you’re more rested, and relaxed,” He slid his other hand over your shoulder, squeezing softly. It was damn near impossible to say no to him. Actually, completely impossible.

Matt was addicting. His touch, his words. Everything. He always has been. The first kiss you ever had sparked something deep inside you and since then it was like you were insatiable when it came to him.

Being at work was hard enough to control yourself, and his office only went uninterrupted for so long before someone knocked on his door so quickies were nearly off the table. Nearly. But at home, and when he was lazily kissing at your neck like he was now?

How could you even imagine declining his sweet offer?

You shifted onto your knees, turning to face him, pressing your lips to his. Matt’s hands abandoned yours, instead swooping around your waist, gently holding onto you. “That a yes?” He questioned smugly, already knowing the answer. He was well aware of the pull he had over you.

It was balanced perfectly, your presence having the same effect on the lieutenant as he on you. You hummed softly, pushing yourself up and off the floor, not without leaning forward to give him another firm kiss.

Moments like this made you thankful he was the type to only sleep in pajama pants, his chest bare for you to run your hands over. “Mhm,” Now impatient, you grabbed his hand, pulling him up, feeling him bump into your back as he followed you back into your bedroom, textbook and studies at the back of your mind.

You turned back to him the second you heard the door click behind you, hands finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. Any sleepiness that was in his body when he woke up was now gone, completely replaced with you, your lips and your body.

“You can’t just,” You firmly kissed him, “Come out there,” Another kiss. “And distract me.” And another. Slipping words in between them. Matt’s hands on your hips pulling you closer.

He reciprocated each kiss, his tongue fighting to slip into your mouth each time, slowly he pulled away, not caring about the line of spit that connected your mouths. “Seems I can though, doesn’t it?” His cocky words driven by the horniness that was clouding his mind, the ever growing bulge in his pants pushing the sarcastic side out of him.

Usually you were able to wrangle him in, get things done but when he started talking back? That’s when you knew to just let him do his thing. Cause damn was he good at it. “Is that so Lieutenant Casey?” You ticked an eyebrow up, overly softly gazing up at the blonde man.

Matt nodded, your tone catching his breath, “Mhm,” He nudged you back, slowly getting you to the end of the bed. “Cause look where you are,” His lips pressed to the bottom of your neck, “With,” Matt nipped right below your ear, “Me.” His breath sent a chill down your spine.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to the side, letting the man kiss back down your neck. His hands slid up your sides, under your shirt and pulled it off. Matt turned you, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap.

Slowly your hands went over his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist. His arms wrapped around you, leaning up to catch your lips again, pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow but heated, all of the lust and passion wrapped into each twist of your lips together.

Each brush of your tongue against his made him grow more and more, grinding his hips up into yours. “You can take my clothes off you know,” You muttered into the break he took to catch his breath. Matt’s eyes found yours, loosening the grip on you to lean back onto his palms.

“Or you can do it for me,” He mumbled, eyes dragging across your bare chest and the pajama pants you had put on hours ago. Your cheeks burned as you lifted from his lap, making a show of pushing them off, going to return to your spot when he held his hand out in expectancy.

You tilted your head slightly, Matt raising his eyebrows at the floral underwear you still wore. Oh. With a slight smirk you pulled them off, tossing them to the side, accepting Matt’s grasp as he brought you back towards him.

“That’s my baby girl,” He muttered, his hand going to your hair while his other gripped your hip, rocking up against you. Lightly you moaned, head leaning back as he did it again. His bulge rubbed right against your clit, making you pull your lip between your teeth.

Matt wanted you to beg. You knew that and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of it. So instead, you leaned forward, kissing along his collarbone. Aka his hot spot that always, always did the job in getting you what you want.

And it did. As you sucked a mark into the spot just above his collarbone he stood, his arms tightly around you before he gently placed you on the bed, standing back up to pull the rest of his clothes off. In seconds he was back over you, his hand on your cheek.

“You want me to get you ready or do you think you can handle it?” Matt asked softly, his other palm pressing over your chest sensibly, just lightly running his thumb over your nipple as he spoke. You couldn’t wait any longer than you already were so, even though you weren’t sure you could, you nodded.

“I can handle it,” You put a hand on the side of his neck, holding onto him as he nodded, slotting himself between your legs.

Even when you’d done this million times, the warmth of Matt’s skin always made you twist and turn, the anticipation of feeling him grew like a hot air balloon in your stomach. “Okay, tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” Even in his lust filled mindset his first thought was always you.

No matter what, Matt did what he could to make sure you were having as good of a time as he was. So his eyes trained on your face as he pushed in, soothingly running his thumb across your cheek as your face screwed up.

Matt wasn’t big by most means but he was big enough to stretch you out, sending a burning sensation through your thighs every time he entered you. The pain never lasted long, usually subsiding within the first few seconds. But that was also after he’d already fingered you.

This was probably the first time he went in without the foreplay and honestly, you might have regretted it a smidge but the second the pain subsided the doubt went out the window and a moan left your lips.

“You alright?” He asked softly, yet to move his hips.

“Mhm,” As soon as you nodded Matt pulled back, slowly rolling his hips back into you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut but as your body loosened, he continued to move. With Matt it was always, well, at least usually, sensual. He liked taking his time.

Liked moving that one way that had your toes curling as you tightened your legs around him. And this was no different. Strategically he thrust into you. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling them as close as he could get as he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips always felt amazing, even more so when he was deep in you and hitting every spot perfectly. It was like his kisses could coax an orgasm out of you the same way his tongue around your clit could.

Something about Matthew Casey was just so perfect that he molded perfectly to you every time, every night. Your hands grasping his face tightly pushed his movements to grow faster, losing himself in the heat of your body, wet skin slapping together roughly as each moan went right to where you two were connected.

“God I love you,” He muttered roughly into your ear before biting at your lobe, his eyes fluttering shut. Matt was trying his hardest not to cum yet, making sure you were first was also something he always did. Very gentlemanly, of course.

Your head went back as he spoke, your eyes darting across his blissed out face. “I love you,” All of your emotions managed to come out when you were together, and this was no different. The serotonin or dopamine or whatever it was that spilled into your brain was always met with Matt’s touch and love.

Matt’s hand slid between your legs, slowly rubbing at your clit the opposite of his thrusts, relishing in the way his name slid off your tongue at the newly added sensation. “I love you so much. My girl,” He spoke, knowing his loving words and tone always made your stomach pull into knots. “Gonna be with me forever, hm? Always with me. Gonna get married,” His fingers sped up slightly as you gazed up at him, eyes locking.

“Gonna have my babies. Have a family. Always going to be mine, huh princess?” His last couple of thrusts sent you overboard, eyes failing to stay on his as they squeezed shut, backing lifting off the bed as you saw stars.

Matt took the opportunity to wrap his other arm around you, fingers slowing until they stopped, allowing himself to focus on working you through your own high and finally releasing inside of you. His chest rose and fell quickly, gently pulling himself out and off of you as your hand trailed up his arm and to his face.

“You better make good on those promises.” You muttered, stroking a thumb across his face. Matt tilted his head slightly, mind clouded by his orgasm, all he could think about was you.

Softly he hummed and you smiled softly, keeping your eyes on him. “Marrying me.” He leaned down, catching your lips in his once more, slowly moving against them.

"I plan to."

Wanna join Matt's tag list?

tags: @winchesterszvonecek

mini fic

pairing: claudio/mox

note: set the night after full gear, with all that entails.

Mox is less angry than he thought he would be. His baseline is high. The hurt though, he could deal without. He should have expected this, is all. Feels dumb to have this much in his heart for someone he should have known would betray him. He does anyway.

When he’s done the emotional equivalent  of projectile vomit, he’s shaking, less shivering, more this tense buzzing, like a muscle that can’t relax.

He paces. He’d go out into the night to run if he knew nobody was gonna follow him. But he was sharing the room. Bryan had insisted, and Mox wasn’t in a place to go toe to toe with him. Speaking of- Bryan was mostly asleep, laid out on his stomach, with Yuta curled up beside him. Claudio is in the other bed, on his side facing the window. He’s the only one of them that actually bothered to change into pajamas before turning in.

Mox goes to the bathroom. He splashes water in his face and wills the adrenaline to subside. It is, as his body and mind often are, rebellious.

He hears the door creak slightly behind him. Up in the mirror he sees Claudio, eyes sleepy but clear, looking at him. Which makes Mox look at himself. He’s a mess. His beard is scratchy and haggard, his eye bags are heavier than usual and there’s a sickly sheen of sweat on him.

Mox is so glad when Claudio doesn’t ask if he’s alright. That’s all anyone has been asking. Is he alright? What now? How are they going to get through this? Why didn’t he see this coming? No, Claudio is quiet and Claudio is solid. He always has been. He wraps his strong arms around Mox and presses them together. Mox struggles in his grip, not out of a desire to be let go, but to feel Claudio tighten his hold. “Easy, easy. You fought hard tonight.” His warm hand strokes up and down Mox’s chest. It wanders up and up until it’s resting, cupping the base of Mox’s throat firmly. “I’ve got you. Be still.” Mox’s eyes slide close and he feels his knees give out. Claudio keeps him upright with the arm around his waist. He feels like he can breathe properly for the first time since the fight, and after a deep breath in, coaxed by Claudio loosening the grip on his stomach, Mox’s exhale is long and trails off into a sad, confused sound.

Claudio adjusts his grip, hauling him up under the armpits and pressing them chest to chest, guiding Mox’s face to his shoulder. His grip is hard, unyielding. “I have you.” Mox feels like he could cry. Surely the well is dry by now, from all his angry tears earlier. He nods. “I have you, Jon. What are you when I have you?” Claudio asks, gentle, right in his ear. He has to concentrate to answer, he mumbles. “‘m safe.” He can hear the warm smile when Claudio replies “Yes,” Claudio kisses him softly on the side of his head, “you’re safe.”

For once, the pressure around him is literal, not metaphorical, and it feels so much better, so much easier to shut off the fight or flight response. He’s safe.

Mox isn’t sure when he passes out, but when he stirs briefly there are still strong arms holding him tightly, so he goes back to sleep.

keep me intact - chapter 5 (hiatus is finally over!)

Chapter summary:

Sometimes, getting out of bed in the morning is too much. This Saturday hits Kei like a train.

Fic tags:

Tsukkiyama / Slow Burn / Childhood friends / Canon compliant (mostly) / T4t (trans boy Tsukishima and trans boy Yamaguchi) / Kei POV

Read chapter 5

Read full fic

It's good and cool to give your characters a single simple, straightforward, non-urgent, super-achievable goal that shouldn't really cost anything or hurt anyone, make that the driving factor for most of their decisions, and then have the Plot do everything in its power to stop them.

Pillowtalk - Theodore Nott (Modern AU)

wc: 400 warnings: fluff, cuteness, established relationship, modern au summary: Theodore comes home to find you sleeping on the couch and picks you up, taking you to bed

Theodore pushed the door open with a soft click, the apartment swathed in a gentle, dim light. His eyes immediately sought you out, nestled on the couch, bathed in the soft glow from the lamp nearby. You lay there, surrounded by a fortress of blankets, your features serene in slumber.

A tender smile graced his lips as he approached, marveling at the sight of you, the way your hair cascaded over the cushions, framing your peaceful face. The quiet rhythm of your breathing filled the room, and his heart swelled with affection.

He knelt beside you, admiring the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes brushed against your cheeks in the soft light. Theodore's fingers ghosted over the curve of your cheek, marveling at the warmth that radiated from you.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he whispered, his voice barely audible, not wanting to disturb your tranquil state. You stirred slightly at the sound, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Teddy?" Your voice was drowsy, laced with warmth as you murmured his name, barely awake.

"Yeah, it's me," he chuckled softly, his heart melting at the sound of your sleepy voice.

With infinite care, Theodore gathered you into his arms, relishing the weight of you against him, the way you instinctively snuggled closer, seeking his comfort even in your slumber.

"You're so cozy," you mumbled, your words a mere whisper against his chest, barely coherent.

"I know, sweetheart, but your bed's waiting," he murmured back, his tone filled with affection as he carried you toward the bedroom.

The warmth of your body against his, the softness of your breath against his neck—it filled him with an overwhelming sense of love and tenderness.

"Thank you, Teddy," you murmured, your voice a soft sigh as he gently laid you down on the bed, tucking the covers around you with careful precision.

"Always," he replied, his voice laced with fondness as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Sleep tight, my love."

You sighed contentedly, the sensation of his kiss lingering like a sweet promise, and snuggled deeper into the pillows, feeling the comfort of his presence even in his absence. Theodore stood by the bedside, watching over you with adoration, before finally dimming the lights and quietly slipping out so he could go have a quick shower before joining you in bed

a painful pastiche

I have bitten the cheek that was on the left side

and which I had recently bitten before.

I'm fucked i will be biting it all day and always

Can we talk about Eddie’s hands real quick? Cause like okay, he plays guitar, he’s good with cars, he most definitely knows how to roll a joint, he wears cool rings. Alsoooo the clip where he’s in the cafeteria flipping the bird, YOU CAN SEE VEINS?!?! WHEN I TELL YOU I LOST IT I MEAN I LOST IT. Sooo anywho…I live for Eddie and his hands

@reachfolk​ i accidentally deleted the ask u sent but here it is!! the “you should worship me.” “i do.” i like this piece it evokes a nice feeling. like waking up early in the morning knowing ur happy in life KFEHFKJ weirdly specific i know

✧ word count: 649 ✵ warnings: obviously nothing xxx but if it was movie and it was ur dad next to you you’d feel kinda awkward but if it was your mom and you’re like. 16? 17? you’d probably just Smile at each other in amusement. sorry i don’t know how to rate things ✧ tags: miraak being a simp (as he should), early mornings, falkreath ✵ ship: arpina sun-stealer/miraak ✧ characters: arpina sun-stealer

✵ tag list: @reachfolk, @lookathooves, @faolan-red-eagle, @dirty-bosmer, ask to be added i say as i add willy nilly

Miraak watches Arpina as she sleeps, unmoving save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the way her hair, slightly obscuring her face, fans out with every breath. She's still asleep, despite it not being too long until midday, but she's always been like this and he's not at all surprised—it is not like they have anywhere to be but each other's arms, after all. 

He turns away from the foot of the bed and pulls the doors to the balcony open, fresh Falkreath breeze drifting in—a little colder than usual, he notices, and absentmindedly regrets not putting a shirt on, but he's too lazy to have to check where his shirt from last night had gone. Sunshine glows over Bleak Falls Barrow, white clouds in the sky just the slightest tinge of pink still. 

So maybe it is a little early.

Miraak yawns, pressing his hand over his mouth as he does so, stretching out his back. It's a good morning, he decides. Perhaps we should seize the day.

There isn't much to do in Falkreath when excluding the 'urban' activities in the city, but both of them enjoy hunting well enough, and exploring is never such a bad option—there was even this one time they found a memorial from his era, still standing, words still clear. It was certainly a blast from the past, to say the least, and she had to soothe his discomfort at finding it as they went back to the cabin. 

“Miraak,” Arpina calls from behind him. “Come back. I’m cold.”

He turns around. “I wrapped you in blankets.”

“Well, then you didn’t do it so well,” she says with a small, bleary frown, sitting up in a cocoon of the aforementioned blankets. He can’t help but think that she’s so lovely to look at. The view from High Hrothgar could not hold a candle to her as she is right now, sleepy, wild-haired, and asking for him to return to bed. “Come here.”

And so he does, moving to her. He smooths a lock of hair back, tucking a cowlick strand behind her pointed ear. “Good morning,” he tells her, almost teasingly, smiling as she presses her hand into the back of his and her cheek to his palm. 

“So you say,” she says, and tugs him down onto the bed insistently, only pausing when he obeys. 

“We should go out. It’s a fine day,” Miraak says, amused. “We can do what you want. Visit a temple, or look for a shrine.”

Arpina laughs and comfortably seats herself in his lap, legs on either side, and she kisses him in response, pulling back when he’s dazed enough to lie back at a gentle push from her. He watches her above him, still soft in her sleepiness, but he’s the one pliant in her hands now. (Hasn’t he always yielded to her? Always yielded so easily, so gently—so lovingly.)

Her hair is fire as the dawnlight shines behind her. “A shrine?” she asks innocently, but he’s not blind—he can see the smirk, the little dimple under her left eye as she does so. “You could just make a shrine out of me.”

Miraak shifts at the suggestion, face already hot. Her smile widens. He’s not sure what’s inspired her to act like this but he’s thankful for whatever it was—he’s not at all losing here.

“You could just worship me,” she pushes daringly, leaning so one hand is at the side of his head, the other on her knee. 

“I do,” he manages to say as his heart pounds in his chest, watching her with anticipation, and when she laughs and bends down to kiss him again, he lets go of that breath he didn’t know he was holding, heart warm as she stays down with her cheek on his sternum. “I could make a fine shrine out of you.”