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#that does probably say something about her
sky-scribbles · 3 days
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I'm both amused and emotional about the idea of Beau turning to Essek one day and just saying, 'hey man, do you wanna be part of the Cobalt Soul?' And Essek asks, does she mean that one of his fake personas can pretend to be a Cobalt Soul member, and Beau says no. Come and actually join the Cobalt Soul. Under a fake name and face, obviously, but he'll be a real, official member.
'I mean, come on, man. You're already helping us take down Ludinus, you're doing a whole bunch of Aeor research. Why not just make it easier and... officially join? You've got the whole boner-for-knowledge thing down. And I'm an Expositor. If I want to show up and say 'here's my friend, Definitely-Not-Essek, just make him an archivist', they'll probably roll with it.'
'You don't think any of your superiors - the elite group of spies and investigators - might see through that? Or that it might risk the attention of those hunting me falling upon your order?'
And Beau shrugging and saying, 'If they do, I'll deal with it.' A quiet, deadly promise.
Idk, maybe 'Seth' was just a random identity made up on the fly, but I really like the idea that he might actually be Cobalt Soul. Just... something about Essek, who lived a century in isolation, getting to be part of something. Never being starved for intellectual peers again. Being around people who believe that knowledge is meant to be celebrated and shared.
And Beau knowing that the Cobalt Soul is about standing against corruption. About exposing lies. Finding the truth. And trusting completely that Essek, her friend, believes in those things too.
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tofixtheshadows · 9 hours
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Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are
Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.
So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.
I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.
Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.
And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).
The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).
What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.
And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.
Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.
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It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.
I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.
Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.
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If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.
Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.
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The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?
And she tries again in bed.
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Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.
With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.
Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.
And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.
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Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.
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luveline · 1 day
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coworker James au could i request kne where maybe reader starts her period at work unprepared and bleeds through so James gives her his jumper and she's like wtf but also thank you <33
James worries about you reluctantly until you need his help. Then he’s less begrudging. fem, 1k
“Why are you wearing that?” 
James digs through the office fridge for his oat milk. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m just wondering.” 
“It's cold out. People wear jumpers when it’s cold.” James grabs the oat milk from the deep recesses of the shared fridge and lets his tricep flex as he stands. Does he think you’ll care? No. But he does it anyway, he doesn’t work out for nothing. You probably can’t tell with the jumper, anyhow. 
He’s expecting you to wrinkle your nose or fake a keck. You look at him funny. 
“What’s wrong? You’re poorly,” he says. 
“I’m not poorly, I just want some toast.” 
“There’s no butter,” James says. No point letting you wait by the fridge. 
You nod dispassionately. “Well, that makes sense.” 
“I have a tangerine in my bag.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
You’re definitely poorly. You wander out of the kitchen, James assumes to sit back down at your desk while he makes his coffee. He could make you a cup at the same time, it might help you pep up for the rest of the day, but he hasn’t made you any before and why should he start now? Everyone gets sick, it doesn’t make you less of a dick. 
Even as he thinks it, he realises what he’s doing. James Denial Potter, what use is it anymore, pretending he doesn’t like you? You piss him off royally, but disdain? It’s like everyday you’re getting prettier and sweeter and softer in the eyes and James just has to watch. 
He takes his mug to his desk. You’ve already posed his little Smiski figurines to be standing next to each other, though now you’re nowhere near his desk, instead having flopped toward the left side far from his reach with your face in your hand. 
He sighs and grabs his back. The tangerine lays at the bottom near his lunch box, and it begs to be kept, but you’re looking too sick to ignore. It’s cruel to leave you without, at this point. “Here,” he says, popping the orange on the border of your two desks. “Quick, before you pass out.” 
“Thank you,” you mumble. 
It’s sad to watch you eat the orange. Your chewing is morose, your eyes tracking up and down your screen with little hurry. 
He cracks too quickly. “You okay?” he asks. 
“I’m fine.” 
“Do you want a cup of water?” 
“James. I’m fine, I’m just tired.” 
You stand and stretch with a sad moan, joints popping audibly, your arm over your eyes as they do. You let it fall and begin to walk away from the desk nook toward the bathroom, and that’s when James notices your accident. 
He jumps up from his seat, his hand held forward and trying to catch you before you can get too far away. He takes your hand, to your confusion, pulling you back toward him. 
“James, I’m fine,” you say, clearly shy. 
“You’ve bled through.” 
Your face fills with palpable, horrified mortification. “What?” 
“The seat of your trousers,” he says quietly. James can’t confess to caring about discretion when it comes to human function, but he doesn’t think you’d enjoy your private business being shouted across the office. “It’s not a lot.” 
You freeze. 
He lets your hand fall. 
“It’s okay,” he says, frowning at your embarrassed pouting and the glossy shine that’s formed over your eyes. 
“I don’t know what to do,” you confess under your breath. 
It’s so stupid because it’s not vulnerable, you aren’t some wounded animal that needs his help, but he has that awful aching sorriness for you that he can’t bite back. You’re not his friend and he’s sympathetic anyways, he’d never let you feel embarrassed over something you can’t help because he knows exactly how it feels (even if your particular affliction isn’t one he suffers). James nods at you decidedly and leans forward, grabbing the neck of his jumper and pulling it off quickly. 
“Here,” he says, his hair tickling his ears as it falls back into place. He offers the jumper. You don’t take it. 
“James, I might…” 
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. Just take it and I’ll see if I can sort something out. I’ll get Lily for you. What do you think?” 
“Are you sure?” you ask. 
“Of course I’m sure. Tie that around your waist, yeah?” 
You take the jumper from his hands. “I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry? It’s fine, it happens.” 
“You don’t even like me and you’re always doing things for me,” you say, wobbly. 
James blames the hormones he thinks you might have ravaging your system right now. You’re tired, you clearly didn’t eat enough at breakfast, and you’re on your cycle. It’s not a nice mix of things to experience, and to pile some public humiliation on at work must make crying inevitable. 
He takes your elbow into his hand, bending just so to put your faces on better level. “We don’t always get along,” he says softly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do things by yourself, without anyone to look out for you. Okay? This isn’t a big deal to me.” He gives your elbow a mild shake. “Okay?” he asks again. 
You sniffle but don’t cry. “Yeah, okay.” 
“Okay. Don’t worry, angel. Those trousers were a choice anyway.” 
You wave him away with a weak laugh. 
James walks one way in search of HR and you slink to the bathroom with his jumper around your waist. And Remus, who’s gaze had been summoned by the rapid departure of you both at the same time, sits gobsmacked at his desk. James had looked not even a millisecond from kissing the frown from your lips, his thumb pressed with tender care to your arm, and you’d just let him do it, the rigid set of your shoulders relaxing the longer he touched you. 
Remus takes his phone from his pocket to text Sirius. Need to talk to you about James
What’s he done? 
Remus sort of thinks his friend might be falling in love. It’s gonna be a total disaster.
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hqbaby · 3 days
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four — just a little
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.8k content. profanity, alcohol consumption, a lil bit of tension???
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booger: r u up?
It’s 4 AM and you should not, in fact, be up. But you are. And apparently so is Sukuna.
You contemplate ignoring him. You can get back to him in the morning and act all high and mighty like, “I’m a proper human being with a life, so no, I don’t stay up until 4 AM like you, loser.” It’s not like anything good has ever come from you replying to his late-night/early-morning texts. You recall another time you replied to him at this hour; the two of you ended up almost getting arrested after sneaking into a reservoir.
Alas, you’re still up and you’ve been rotting your brain on your phone for hours, so your better judgment has gone the way of your last few brain cells.
you: what do u want
You watch as he types something. “Damn, so hostile,” probably. He deletes it. Then, he types again. “Why are you up?” maybe. Deletes it. Then, “Wanna fuck?” before he remembers who you are. He types again and actually sends the message this time.
booger: be there in 5
Part of you wants to prank him. Go to sleep and let the poor guy pound on your door until one of your neighbors—probably the grumpy old lady who lives beside you—scolds him and threatens to call security. It’s a good prank. You go as far as thinking about it.
When gets there, he’s got his hood pulled over his head. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, black sunglasses, and a serious expression on his face.
“Damn, you look so cool,” you say. He cracks a grin and you crack up. “What the fuck are you doing? You look ridiculous.”
His face falls into a frown as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him. You’ve already left him behind, crashing onto your couch as he changes his shoes into one of the slippers you keep for him by your door.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” he says. He sheds the sunglasses and pulls his hood away. You’ve ruined the whole vibe he was going for. “Aren’t you gonna offer me a drink or something?”
You lift your head and point at the console table by the door. “There’s a bottle of Cuervo there,” you tell him. “Get it for me.”
He huffs but does as you say anyway. He picks the bottle up and walks over to you, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “You’re a shitty host,” he says as he opens the bottle.
“You’re an intruder,” you say, snatching the bottle away from him before he takes a sip. You raise it to your lips to take a swig. “Why are you here?”
“Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend?”
You choke on the tequila. “What?” You cough as he laughs and pats your back. “Don’t say shit like that.”
He grabs the bottle from you and chugs a good amount. “I love teasing you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “It’s so easy.”
You slap his hand away and sit up. “I hate you.”
He just grins and passes you the bottle. “You love me,” he chirps. “Wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”
“Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s saying I’m incapable of love.”
You don’t know why you say that. It’s not part of the script, the usual back and forth between the two of you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong.
“Who says that?” He looks serious now. Like he’s about to beat someone up. You know, the usual. What were you even worried about? “You got a gun for me to use on them?”
You laugh at his dour expression. It’s true, of course, that people have been spreading this new rumor that you’re a cold, ruthless bitch who doesn’t have room in her heart for someone, let alone a boyfriend. It’s why you broke up with Satoru apparently. You know it’s stupid and people don’t really know what they’re talking about, that they’re bored and just making shit up, but for some reason, you can’t shake the thought.
What if they’re right?
You put the Cuervo on the floor beside Sukuna and hug a throw pillow to your chest. “I had a dream.”
“Is this where you break into song?”
You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
He doesn’t take the challenge lightly, immediately hopping onto the couch beside you and dropping his head onto your lap to stare up at you. He bats his lashes at you and says, “What did you dream about?”
You place your hand on his face. Then, you feel something wet on your palm. 
His fucking tongue.
“You’re so gross,” you whine, wiping your hand on his hoodie. “What do girls even see in you?”
He smirks. You’ve just given him an opportunity and you wholly regret it now. “It’s not so much what they see, but how big it is,” he says, amused by the disgusted face you make. He pokes your cheek with his finger now. “Tell me about your dream.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He pouts, his lower lip jutting out as he looks at you with big eyes, practically getting teary-eyed now. He’s a great actor, you’ll give him that. He’d probably get better grades if he was a theater major.
“I wanna know,” he says softly. “Tell me.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels unnervingly familiar. You’re used to his antics, you’ve had to deal with them since the two of you were in high school, but it’s moments like this that you remember just how much you know each other. It’s a constant thing, always lurking beneath your banter and jokes—it just surprises you when it’s in your face.
You place your hand on his shoulder and sigh. “It’s stupid,” you say. “I just keep having these dreams where I’m running from something. Different things every time. Zombies, ghosts, clowns—”
“You run away from clowns?”
“Clowns with murderous intentions.”
“Okay. Valid.”
You shake your head, smiling now as the teasing reminds you of who you’re talking to. It’s just Sukuna.
 “Anyway,” you say as you stare off into your empty living room. “I just… run. And I get to a point where I feel safe until I realize that I’ve actually been cornered. I wake up before anything happens.”
When you look at him again, his brows are furrowed, already in deep thought. He considers your dream carefully. You wonder if he’ll crack another joke, change the tone of the conversation, but of course he doesn’t.
“What do you think it means?”
You squeeze the throw pillow beside you. “I don’t know,” you say. “I should probably ask Nobara. Psych majors know all about that shit, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, they got that Freud dude.”
“I’m not sure that Freud dude is necessarily accurate about dreams.”
“You never know until you try.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment. You can hear the air conditioner buzz, the fridge rumble. You’ve gotten used to these sounds of silence, what with you being more alone than you’ve been in a while. This time though, you can hear Sukuna’s breathing. Quiet, but steady, a reminder that you’re not completely alone this time.
“Is that why you’re still up?” he asks eventually. “You can’t sleep?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not.” Earnest. Sincere. “I just wanted to know.”
You look at him skeptically, but he just stares up at you from his place on your lap, blinking in the light of your living room.
“I mean, it’s not just the dreams,” you tell him. “I’ve been feeling a little lonely, you know. Since… Satoru.”
He cringes at the name but schools his expression before it turns into a full on snarl. “Still don’t know what you saw in that guy.”
“He was good to me,” you say. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He must’ve if you broke up with him.”
You hesitate, but you find it in yourself to insist, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sukuna stands up. “If you say so,” he says. He reaches his hand out in front of you. “Come on. You gotta sleep.”
You stare at his hand. “You don’t think you’re taking me to bed, do you?”
“I am taking you to bed.”
He stays there for a moment, watching you watch his hand, unmoving. “I’m not getting in bed with you. Chill, bro.”
A beat.
“It’s not that,” you say, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. “It’s just…”
He raises a brow. “What?”
Yeah. What?
“Nothing,” you whisper. This is stupid. “You can sleep beside me. It’s fine.”
It’s his turn to be taken aback. Suddenly, he thinks that your hand being in his feels terribly comfortable. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, pulling your hand away. You pad over to your bedroom, walking straight ahead without looking back. Pretending like you don’t care if he follows. “We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s no big deal.”
But it is. Somehow, you feel like it is.
You’re already under your blanket when he follows you into the room. He stands at the foot of the bed a little awkwardly. Like a lost puppy.
“When was the last time you slept in the same bed as a girl you didn’t fuck?”
He’s sheepish now, stripped of all his usual brazen demeanor. “A long time.”
His hand reaches for the hem of his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide. “This isn’t—”
“Relax,” he says, pulling the hoodie off his head. He’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Plain red, one you’ve probably seen more times than you can count. “I just run warm is all.”
You feel your face heat up. What did you think he was doing?
Your best friend slides into bed beside you. This isn’t anything strange for the two of you. You used to sleep over at each other’s houses back when you were in high school and one of you wanted to avoid the chaos of your home. You’ve slept beside each other before. It was never a thing.
But it’s been a while since then. You’re no longer the kids you were, all playful and shameless.
It feels different this time. Somehow.
He’s keeping his distance and you can feel it. Your body is turned away from him, but you can feel his eyes on you. He wants to be closer to you.
You want to be closer to him too.
“You can—”
His chest hits your back as he rolls over to lie directly behind you. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You can feel his breath on your neck.
You swallow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
You feel his hand carefully move around your waist. He doesn’t touch you, his arm hovering just above the thin fabric of your top. “Is this—”
“Yeah.”
He rests his arm on your waist and you feel yourself relax into his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he runs hot, it feels like you’re melting against a furnace. Still, somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
If anything, you might just admit that you like it. Maybe. Just a little.
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notes. soooo the besties are doing a thing 👀 how do we feel about reader and sukuna so far 👀 we also haven't seen much of gojo yet but next chapter is gonna be interesting ;)
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artists-ally · 1 day
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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian
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*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.
Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!
Word Count: 7,630
Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.
Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut
Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.
~~~~~
“So, explain this to me again?”
“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”
From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter. 
“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”
I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”
“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”
“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.
“The sauna?”
Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”
“Should I be afraid?” 
“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”
“Naked?” I dare to ask.
“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”
I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.
And the space between my thighs.
“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”
“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”
“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle. 
“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”
“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”
I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”
Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”
“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”
“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands. 
“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”
“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Ooh! Will you bring me-”
“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.
“Crony bitch.”
“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room. 
Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”
“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”
“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.
“Sauna time?”
“Sauna time.”
The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes. 
“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes. 
“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile. 
“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice. 
Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”
“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”
“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.
“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”
“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”
“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve. 
But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing. 
“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same. 
“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”
I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders. 
Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”
“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”
“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time. 
“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison. 
The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them. 
No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later. 
“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”
Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”
“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”
“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”
“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear. 
“Brat.”
“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”
I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”
He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside. 
In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s. 
Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels. 
Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door. 
“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.
“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.
I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”
Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it. 
“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.
Oh. Right. The towels. 
I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right. 
I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”
He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”
Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”
I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”
Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.
“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching. 
“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same. 
There isn’t a verbal response from him. 
Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting. 
Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone. 
“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”
Shit. SHIT.
“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”
“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”
“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”
“Azriel I-”
“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet. 
My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”
“Three.” He stands, towering over me.
I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”
“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.
“Xaden will you please fucking-”
“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t respond. 
“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly. 
“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?” 
One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”
“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.
“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire. 
“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”
Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo. 
And I craved it. 
I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”
His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”
Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible. 
“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”
I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”
A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”
Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance. 
Cauldron boil me alive–
I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden. 
The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest. 
“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him. 
“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”
I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me. 
“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”
My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times. 
“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock. 
I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.
When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him. 
“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath. 
“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”
I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought. 
The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”
There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.
“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”
I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them. 
Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal. 
Me. 
Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat. 
“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers. 
My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place. 
“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him. 
Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut. 
“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”
He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”
The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”
“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”
Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?
I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible. 
“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”
At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks. 
Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet. 
“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”
The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides. 
Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes. 
“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.
“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”
I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”
“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat. 
“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”
“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”
I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level. 
“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it. 
My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-
“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”
“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”
Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me. 
Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.” 
The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen. 
“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”
Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.
“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”
“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture. 
He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in. 
A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit. 
“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”
“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”
After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth. 
It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction. 
“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”
At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males. 
I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again. 
“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”
The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”
“Make her stop.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”
“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”
“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”
Xaden sinks to his knees. 
“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”
The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…
“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”
It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit. 
“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me. 
“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”
It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.
“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”
Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.
“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”
A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content. 
“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”
“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”
“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life. 
I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway. 
“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest. 
I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out. 
Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction. 
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips. 
I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible. 
Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second. 
“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders. 
“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock. 
“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.
“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”
Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”
Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me. 
“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”
“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”
“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”
When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.
I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does. 
“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere. 
“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees. 
I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me. 
As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.
Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine. 
“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”
A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat. 
Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”
“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”
“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”
“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay. 
Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna. 
“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face. 
“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”
“My only request is a bath.”
“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”
I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh. 
“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah. 
“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”
“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.” 
“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”
“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.
“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”
“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”
“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.
They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths. 
“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.
“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom. 
I can’t help but laugh. 
“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles. 
“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”
“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”
I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.  
“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily. 
I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.
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cubeshapedlemon · 2 days
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Atomic Baby
You, a wastelander are captured by an unfortunate group of men, your knight in dusty leather does more for you than you originally thought he would.
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Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x f!reader
6.2k words
cw & tags: general smut, piv, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), cannon typical violence, unwanted (implied) sexual advances(not by cooper), brief alcohol use, use of pet names, heavy flirting, cannon typical drug use
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authors note: this is my first fallout fic! im hoping to write more! (check out my pinned post for more info) and my first nsfw one so i hope you enjoy. Tbh there are some moments where he is slightly ooc, just kinder than in cannon but whatever. There is a large possibility that this could become a multi-chapter at some point but it can 100% be read free standing. please reblog if you wish but do not repost or translate anywhere without my permission. anyway thank you! and let me know if you notice any mistakes or something i missed in the tags!
Waking up to three weaselly looking men looming over you with a rather sharp looking hatchet, not the best thing ever. Your little camp seeming to be ransacked already, you glare up. The one who seems to be the leader of their little group ties a rough length of rope to your wrists as the other two rifle through your bag. Hauling you up they force you to start waking.
The scorching hot sun beams down on your shoulders as you walk.The irradiated heat of the wasteland is never forgiving, especially not recently; even at night it’s been like sleeping in an oven.
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Walking, endless walking. It has already been about an hour or so since your capture. The winds picking up, trapping your lungs with dusty red soil. Phlegmy coughs and chortles follow behind you. At least they aren't at your side anymore, for the first half hour or so they would take turns shoulder checking you… or spitting at you… or tripping you… really anything those dirty bastards could think of. At this point their boredom with you is really coming to your advantage.
The greasy men are probably hoping to sell you or your organs for a few caps. Either one, not fantastic. Soil kicks up around you, forceful wind driving you to trudge forward with more effort. Glancing down at your wrists you start to feel some relief, the knot binding your wrists getting looser by the second. The dumb bastards clearly were no eagle scouts, their poor attempt at a knot slowly unfurling as you walk.
Looking forward again you have some hope. A dinghy looking town ahead of you. Walking closer and closer you see something in the town? Someone? Oh thank the lord someone. Maybe there is hope for you after all, I mean just weighing the odds, what are the chances that this random person is also chomping at the bit for some extra caps? Thinking about it now, they probably are. Well, a small chance is better than no chance.
Unraveling the last of the rope you propel yourself forward, running desperately. Your life -quite literally- depends on it. Your captors quickly realize and start chasing after you, you race forward, sights pinned on the figure in front of you.
Stopping yourself just quickly enough, you slam into the figure, making them stumble back slightly. “Now what in the-” the accented baritone voice of the person says. Grasping onto the lapels of his jacket you stare up desperately begging,
“Please help me sir, these guys captured me. I think they're going to sell me or something!”
The man looks up for a moment, staring at the men just a few seconds away before looking back down at you, “What's in it for me doll?” he says, smirking down.
“Just please!” a short chuckle erupts from his chest, placing a hand on your waist he pushes you behind him.
“I gotcha, just stay behind me.” Your captors slow to a stop, attempting to catch their breath; one of the goons is the first to attempt speech through all the heavy breathing.
“Give her back, we found ‘er first.” He says in a whiny tone, clearly not the brightest bulb.
“Now why would I want to do that?”
“Well… uh” he struggles to find the words, dumbly looking to his superior. 
“Well what? Cat got yer’ tongue?”
The ring leader is the next to speak, lips parting in a sneer, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “Finders keepers ghoul. It's rare you see a pretty little thing like her these days… thought we'd sell ‘er. Caps are hard to come by. You understand.”
“Well, I can't deny she is quite the looker,” the ghoul says, looking to his side over at you, eyes grazing over your face before looking up, staring holes through the head of the man in front. “But in terms of the ‘finders keepers’ I'm going to have to dispute that fellas’. You see… i'm not really in the business of sharin’ and she seems to have found me,'' he laughs, hand going to his holster, “so i'm keepin’.”
Between the effort of running and the ghoul's comment your face is quite warm. The tension between him and the men rises every millisecond. Praying that the ghoul is a reliable shot seems to be your only hope as the group gets more irritated by the second. The leader goes to speak again, clearly not taking the hand-on-the-holster hint from the ghoul. 
“I don't think so-” he says, drawing his pistol. The ghoul, already prepared, fires off a shot, beating him to his own, a bullet landing in the man’s shoulder. The leader stumbles, being taken to one knee. The goons caught by surprise go to draw their own guns, before another warning shot fires off, grazing the cheek of one.
Taking the hint, they drop their guns, hands held shakily as they lower to themselves to kneel on the ground. Clearly not wanting to take any chances. The ghoul walks over to the leader, the barrel of his gun pressed into the man's chin, forcing him to look up. The ghoul grins sarcastically.
“Well I know so. Now, why don't you pick your dusty ass up and get you, and your little…” He looks back at the two other men, “fanclub, outta’ here while I take care of that fine piece of ass you so helpfully lead into my arms.” He holsters his gun again, reaching into his pocket for a moment, “Some caps for your troubles.” he says, dropping a few caps on the ground before turning around and walking back to you.
“I- thank you.” you say dumbly, looking up at the ghoul. 
“Don't thank me sweetheart,” he says, scanning your body for injuries. His eyes lock on a laceration on your arm before looking back at you. “Let's get you stitched up now,” he says with a tone you can't quite place. You lift your arm to look at the wound for a moment, must've gotten it at some point during the walk.
Looking back up, the ghoul has already walked past you, most likely expecting you to follow as he heads towards a building a few meters away. Quickly you move to follow him, eager to get away from your former captors.
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You watch awkwardly as he rummages for a needle and thread, finally finding some, he threads the needle, Sitting down on the only chair available. He looks up expectantly with a barely-there smirk.
“Well, come take your seat doll,” he says, patting his thigh. “That there won't stitch itself,” he says nodding to your arm. A heat once again rises to your face as you shuffle over, sitting down on his knee, the wound facing him as your legs are thrown across his lap. You attempt to focus on the wall ahead of you, ignoring the fact that this is the only welcome touch you've had in a while. 
Soon you have something else to focus on as the most definitely not sterile needle pierces your skin. You look over your shoulder at the man, his hat tipped back lazily as he pinches the needle through his thumb and forefinger. A whip stitch quickly binding the laceration. He ties a knot before snapping the extra thread off with a nip of his teeth.
He grasps you at the waist and under your knees, standing, while setting your feet on the ground. “I believe that's all. ‘Should be able to gather enough things here to get you on your way,” he says, walking to the door.
“Wait! Could I come with you? I don't have much, but I could help you in some way... Carry supplies, cook, something,” you say, not ready to be alone quite yet. He gives an almost genuine smile, facing you again. 
“Well I don't find myself in need of a pack mule. I'll be on my way ma'am.” he replies, tipping his hat before walking out, seeming to already have his next location in mind. He walks confidently, out of the town into the infinite desert ahead.
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After gathering a decent amount of supplies in the surrounding buildings you stand in the middle of town absolutely stumped. There is nothing for you in this abandoned town you find yourself in and it's not like you've had the best track record with setting up your own camp recently. 
Wandering around a little more you find yourself where you met your knight in dusty leather. The other men now long gone, you stoop down and collect the things they left. Lucky for you they pretty much dropped everything they had, undoubtedly wanting to get away from the ghoul as quickly as possible.
Picking through their supplies you find that they left their guns and a decent amount of ammo, as you attach the holster to your belt you notice some strange little bottles; about four of them. Tiny cylindrical vials filled with a clear yellow-green liquid. Well, chems are chems you think to yourself, stuffing them inside a first aid kit you found inside one of the buildings.
After nosing around the supplies a bit more you decide you don't want anything else. What to do now…
Well, making your own camp is out of the question for now. You could follow the ghoul, he seems to be a decent survivalist, and the safest person you've interacted with in months. You could stay just behind him, he won't even notice. Just until he passes a more substantial settlement. Or you decide on somewhere else to go.
Deciding on that as a decent course of action, you follow the path marked by his footsteps. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky at this point, it's important to start moving before dusk falls.
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You have been following the ghoul's path for about two days now, trailing behind him. Being just close enough to where you can see when he settles down for the night, taking it as a sign to wind down as well.
As day two starts to end you see him in the distance, he starts to set up his camp for the night so you do too. Two days completely filled with travel can really take a lot out of a person, you soon welcome the sleep that takes you.
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“Well, hello there little lady.” you hear a familiar voice say, spooking you awake. Your eyes open to be greeted by the face of your savior from a few days ago. He's standing over you, eyes boring into yours. “Now what do you think you're doin’. Following me around these past few days, thinkin’ I wouldn't notice.”
“I- I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just didn't know where to go… and I figured following behind you would be a safe bet. Just until we passed another settlement! That's all I swear!” You rush to speak, trying to rationalize your thinking to him.
“Is that so? Well I hate to break it to ya’ darlin’ but the next town is about a 3 day walk away,” he informs, standing back to his full height before stepping away. You groan, rubbing your face forcefully in frustration. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Sitting up, you lazily start to collect your things.
Taking your sweet time, you scoot towards where you had placed your pack for the night. Leisurely taking a sip of water and a bite of some jerky you snagged in town. Now you really had to think about what you were going to do. You doubt he would let you continue following him, and clearly he had some 6th sense for this type of thing so secretly doing it isn't in the cards.
“Get yer’ ass up! We're burnin’ daylight out here.” the ghoul yells. Confused, you whip your head around to look at him. He walks towards you. 
“What?” you say stupidly. 
“We need to get a move on,” he states, squatting down to meet your eye level. “If we move at your glacial pace we'll never get there.” he remarks sarcastically. Standing once again he goes to collect the last of his things, yelling to you again, “Now! and I ain't carryin’ any of your shit so don't even think about bitchin’ about it.” 
With a huff, you stand dusting yourself off before grabbing your pack and trailing behind the ghoul.
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The first day of travel was mostly uneventful, walking, walking, and even more… walking. Though you quickly learn that he doesn't talk much. And he walks quite fast. While you were certainly an effective and efficient walker, you were still left in the dust.
One of his large strides was equivalent to about one and a half of yours. Walking behind someone for miles is not exactly the most engaging activity, but it gave you plenty of time to think. And oh boy did your mind have some things to say.
As you walk your mind starts to wander. ‘my view of him from behind wasn't all that bad,’ you think to yourself. ‘He walks with a confidence that would make anyone quake in their boots, including me. Just possibly in a different way.’
By the end of the day you were spent. Sitting down by the fire, the sun finally setting, eating whatever scraps had been left over in your bag. Not exactly the most exciting dinner in the world, but in this day and age boring and uneventful is a blessing.
It's l quite awkward, sitting across from him. He has such an intense gaze. The exquisite hazel of his eyes is something so uncommon, especially for a ghoul. He seems to be doing well for himself, as close as one can be in the wasteland that is. But with that it makes the feeling ever stronger.
The way he bores his eyes into you makes you feel like he can hear everything you have been thinking all day.
Looking at you like you're something to eat.
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The second day seems to be turning into much of the same. Infinitely more walking ahead of you. Though there is something different in the air today, something new that you can't quite place.
As you look past him you hope you can see anything different, anything new. At this point you would celebrate for a tumbleweed. Though there is still much to think about.
You come to realize how little you truly know about your traveling partner. I mean, you met him not even a week ago and now you've committed to a good bit more time with him and you don't even know his name. He hasn't spoken much to you since your journey started, or really at all that you can remember.
What a shame. His voice is something that continues to echo through you. His deep baritone with that saccharine accent. While he doesn't talk much, it really is a treat when he does. When it comes to the short conversations he has with you, you can't help but get giddy at the pet names he calls you. 
Now that you think about it, he doesn't know your name either. Quickening your steps you catch up to walk next to him. Looking up you see him eye you suspiciously. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure you look back down. Who are you to think that he would want to speak with you? Well, what the hell, why not?
“Hey!” you say, attempting to sound casual, failing horribly. Sparing you some embarrassment, he doesn't seem to react at all, eyes directed forward. “I was just wondering, it's probably stupid, you don't have to answer obviously. But uh, you know what? Never mind. Sorry.”
Wow, really smooth. Admitting defeat you slow your pace back to your normal one, starting to fall behind him once again; that is, until a leather-clad hand finds itself on your hip. Rushing you to once again, meet his steps.
“Just spit it out babydoll, if we're gonna’ be stuck together, I suppose you can get a question or two,” he conceded. His hand pulls back to his side, a bit leisurely crossing the small of your back. Not that you were going to complain, a welcome shiver running through you.
“Well, I was going to ask your name.” That seems to have gotten his attention, his head turning so he can fully look at you now. His eyes roving over your face as if looking for a lie. 
“My name? That's what you want to know?”
“I mean… yeah? I just thought if we were traveling together I should know what to call you,” you explain, once again feeling insecure. He turns his head forward once again, an unreadable expression taking over his face. 
“Is that so?” Understanding this to be rhetorical, you stay silent, deciding instead to focus on walking.
Quite soon though, you find yourself stopping. While the sun is getting lower in the sky, normally you would have another hour or so until you would start to settle down. Confused, you turn to ask; He beats you to it.
“There's some decent huntin’ and some clean water 'round here. Stay and set up house.” Wordlessly you nod, placing your bag on the ground. You walk a few meters away, collecting some sticks for a fire as you hear his heavy footfalls go in the opposite direction.
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Just as the sun starts to set, and you finally get a decent fire going you see your partner walking towards you. Some sort of meat that he already seems to have butchered in his hand. 
“Darlin’ would you cook this up,” He says, not really waiting for an answer, handing you the game. “I have got to get off my feet.” He goes and settles down, resting his back against a large rock in the general vicinity of the fire. Rummaging through his bag he grabs out a small vial, identical to the ones you snagged days previously. He attaches it to what looks to be a repurposed Jet inhaler, taking a hit.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Quit your starin’,” he hollers. Taking the hint, you avert your gaze and spear the meat onto an extra stick.
The meat roasts somewhat unevenly but who can complain at this point? While doing the mindless task you can't help but look up at him. Still leaning up against the rock his head is back now, dusty cowboy hat tipped over his eyes. He really is quite handsome. Ghoul's don't exactly get the best rap when it comes to anything, especially looks. You decide that people would change their minds if they met him.
Looking down again towards your work you decide it looks done enough. Separating just over half of it you place it onto a handkerchief, walking it over to him, placing it on his lap. He goes to move his hat back, giving you a nod before you go back to your spot across from him, the heat of his gaze following you.
Sitting down you prepare for another silent dinner. Digging into your food, you hear him clear his throat, causing you to look up. “Cooper,” he says, “Cooper Howard.” You smile, a real genuine smile, giving him your name as well. A small grin finds its way to his face. So subtle you almost missed it. There was truly something in the air today.
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Waking up the following day you feel like shit. Clean water has been pretty sparse causing your head to pound like a drum. Sure there was some clean water near here but even the idea of standing up sounded unappealing. Deciding it’s best to get it over with sooner rather than later you sit up. 
You start to dig through your pack trying to find your canteen with no success. Confused, you look around, still no canteen. “Cooper?” you yell, not seeing him in the immediate vicinity either. 
“What is it, doll?” He yells back, coming into your field of view, strutting as always. 
“Oh thank the gods. For a second I thought you left me behind,” you sigh with relief.
“Now why would I do that?” A sarcastic tone infesting his speech. Rolling your eyes, you speak again. 
“Have you seen my canteen anywhere? I can't find it. Thought I'd refill it with the clean water you were talking about last night,” you add, standing up and dusting yourself off. Cooper responds by reaching into the pocket inside his jacket, pulling out your canteen and shaking it. The sound of fresh water splashing inside.
Unscrewing the cap he walks up to you, so close you two are almost chest to chest. “Drink up,” he says, lifting it, waiting, like he expected something. And who are you to deny his expectations? Lifting your gaze from the container to the depths of his eyes you open your mouth obediently. He rewards you with a slight smirk, tipping the opening towards your lips.
Despite the increasing tension between you, you are genuinely thirsty. You gulp down the water desperately between heaving breaths. Seeing that you had gotten enough, he screws the cap back on, wiping away a leftover drop on your lip with his thumb. 
“Well ain't you just a prize,” he remarks, so quietly you think he didn't mean for you to hear it. With an almost imperceptible smile on his face he steps away, “ You better start gettin’ a move on little lady. If we walk fast enough we can get to town by supper.” You watch for a second as he grabs his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.
Shaking the leftover tension you do the same, the idea of sleeping in a real bed tonight pushing you forward.
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Unfortunately, the heat truly has been overwhelming today. Notably, Cooper has slowed down just enough to match your pace today. Maybe you're truly starting to crack that hard outer shell he keeps himself in.
After about an hour of you fanning yourself, tying your hair up, then taking it down and putting it up in a different way you give up. Deciding that you would rather just be scorched than fiddle with your clothes or hair every fifteen seconds. 
Soon after you come to this decision, Cooper silently lifts his hat off of himself, placing it on your head. The slight shade of the brim gives you some relief from the unending heat. Gratefully, you look up at him, he doesn't seem to think his action is anything of interest. His eyes still facing forward, face still pulled into a permanent scowl.
You look back down, “Thank you,” you say absentmindedly. 
“Don't mention it,” he replies, his tone flat. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for the rest of your travels. Every once and a while you would sneak an admiring glance or two. A few times you could swear you felt his gaze on you, but of course you have no proof of that.
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After several hours of travel you and Cooper find yourself in a rather nice little town. Nice for a town in the wasteland, that is, not that you can complain. Looking around you see several amenities, a decent looking saloon, a trading post, and a shabby motel being the ones that catch your eye.
You suspect that Cooper is more relieved than he is letting on, taking a deep breath, he allows himself a moment to take it in. “Come on now, let's get a room,” he says, stealing his hat off of you, placing it on his head once again. Both of you eager, you head to the desk of the motel. 
Not caring to speak to anyone, as you two walk in Cooper silently drops a handful of caps onto the desk, grabbing a random key (and its spare) from the wall with the other hand as he does. You give a respectful nod to the person behind the desk before swiftly following him.
After passing a few rooms, your traveling partner looks down, matching the number on the key to the one on the door. Unlocking it, you are greeted by a could-be-better room. But who has time to complain? It's a place to rest your head and keep out of the elements.
“While all this is nice and all, I need a drink,” Cooper declares, setting down his bag and grabbing some caps out of one of the pouches. 
“Ok, I think I'm going to get myself cleaned up here first, I'll meet you in a few.” making a sound of acknowledgement, Cooper leaves, tossing you the extra key, the sound of the lock clicking into place as the door closes.
Sure there wasn't anything fancy like running water here but they were kind enough to have a bottle of talc and a rag in the bathroom. Gratefully, you clean yourself up as much as you can before heading to the saloon.
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Walking in, you scan the room. It's packed with all kinds of people, all jabbering on with their own group, all sipping their alcohol of dubious origin, not that you can complain, you're about to do the same thing. Looking around again, closer this time. Looking for a specific ghoul. There he is.
He sat himself at a small booth, a round table in front of him. An empty glass -presumably his own- set atop. His legs are spread lazily, the brim of his hat creating a shadow over his eyes. It truly is despicable how beautiful he is.
Snapping yourself out of what is probably a desperate looking stare, you head over to the bar. You dig out enough caps from your pockets for two of whatever cheap whiskey you could get your hands on. “Two of whatever's cheapest,” you say leaning over the bartop, dropping enough caps for both, plus tip, on the counter. Nodding, the barkeep collects two glasses, pouring with a rather heavy hand, before handing them to you and snatching the caps.
You look over to where Cooper is once more; he's looking at you now, an intense indescribable air around him. You fight to not smirk at the fact that you caught him staring, you grab the drinks and head over to his table, challenging him with your continued eye contact. “Now where have you been all my life?” you hear an unfamiliar whiny voice say. Instantly your mood is ruined, with a scowl you turn towards the voice. It belongs to a plain looking man, a much too confident smirk on his face.
“As far away from you as I could manage,” you quip, rolling your eyes and making your way to your table. Hearing him get up from his chair, following in your direction you turn to face him again. “I'm here with someone don't even try,” you warn, though of course he doesn't take the message. 
“Well I don't see him ‘round here,”
“You sure you don't?” You hear that familiar accented voice say behind you while wrapping his arm around your waist. Cooper stares down the man in front of you. 
“A ghoul?” the man says, looking up towards him briefly before continuing his eye contact with you. “I can fuck you better than a goddamn ghoul I'll promise you that. You make that switch I'll show you a good time,” the man claims, stalking towards you with a dangerous leer on his face.
“Oh, I guarantee you can't,” Cooper gloats, flashing the gun at his side. Without a second thought he grasps your jaw firmly, turning your head to face him and he locks his lips with yours. Taken aback, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, but he quickly deepens the kiss. He runs his tongue on the seam of your lips. You quickly obey, opening your mouth to the welcome intrusion. With how intense the kiss became you couldn't help but let out a whimper, which he rewards with a firm squeeze of your waist.
You separate after what seems like an eternity, Cooper looking at the man in front of you. “Betcha’ believe it now don't ya'?” he smirks, leading you back to the booth. He grabs both of your drinks, setting them down on the table before sitting down. Feeling some confidence after what just transpired, you sit down on his lap, one of his legs settled between yours. Teasing a bit, you shift your hips against his a few times as if settling in.
“You keep doin’ that you're gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns, grabbing and handing you your drink before shooting back his own. With a smile you lean back, resting against him. 
“I'm ok with trouble,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. Making a sound of contentment, Cooper runs his hand up your thigh, squeezing as his hand trails close to where you truly need him. You let out an unintentional whine at this, attempting to cover it up with a hefty gulp of your drink.
“Are you know? Well trouble is what I got darlin’,” he claims, bouncing his leg that you are perched on. His thigh rubbing deliciously on you. “Just say the word.” Finding all the sensations to be far too much you give in to his teasing. Rocking your hips back on him again you bring your lips to his neck, kissing up slowly, ending on his jaw. 
“Please.”
Releasing a satisfied groan he gives you a relatively chaste kiss compared to earlier, he adjusts you and sets your feet on the ground, pulling you and him up to stand. “Lead the way pretty girl,” he purrs, delivering a swift smack to your ass as you scramble to get to your room.
☆          ☆          ☆
As soon as the door is closed and locked behind you two, you are forced against a wall. Clearly attempting to keep some sort of control over himself Cooper takes a deep breath. “Darlin’ I'm serious, you ain't gettin’ rid of me after this. You sure you want this? just say so and I’ll leave.” The pathetically desperate look in his eyes makes you even more eager to give him your answer 
“Please Coop, I need you.”
Not needing any further confirmation, he once again locks his lips with yours. Opening your mouth right away, the kiss deepens quickly, both of you desperate to get a taste of each other. Cooper rips off his leather gloves, needing to feel you on him directly. That still not being enough, he paws at your top roughly, pushing it up. Parting for a moment he pulls it over your head, unclasping and removing your bra just after.
“Well ain't you the prettiest little thing,” he breathes, running his hands up your body to cup your tits. Stooping down, he sucks a dark bruise into the side of one, looking satisfied with himself as he does so. 
“Coop,” you whine, starving for more. He falls completely to his knees now, delicately taking off your boots, eye contact steady. 
He next moves to unbutton your jeans. He moves frustratingly slow, clearly enjoying your huffs of annoyance. Pulling off your pants and underwear in one, he grabs your hips harshly, pushing them into the wall. Without delay, he places your thighs over his shoulders, diving into your core like it's his last meal. He runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth harshly before releasing. Desperate for more, he plunges his tongue inside you once again.
The sudden intrusion forces a deep groan out of you. In need of a perch, you wrap your hand harshly around the back of his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. “You are just about the sweetest thing I've ever tasted,” he coos, placing a messy kiss on your inner thigh. 
“Cooper, please. I need you,” you beg, desiring everything he can give you.
“Well I can't say no to that, can I?” he jokes, wrapping your legs around him as he stands. Holding you by your waist he makes his way to the bed. He swiftly tosses you atop, you bounce slightly, watching as he stalks towards you with an indescribable hunger. The heat of his stare intense, you desperately clench around nothing. 
Kneeling on the bed now, Cooper runs his fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them. Slowly, he works a single finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out. “Fuck- Coop,” you moan, blinded by pleasure. He works another finger in, continuing the same pace, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot every time. Working you open, preparing you for what was next.
“Good girl, so desperate for me, just a bitch in heat.” Lacking the proper brain function to respond, you whimper at his comment. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Oh you like that don't you? You like being my needy little thing. The little slut I get to use.” his pace increases, fingers rubbing immaculately inside of you. The low buzz at the bottom of your stomach beginning to bloom, your hips unconsciously bucking down to meet his thrusts. 
“Please, please please,” you beg, not quite knowing what you're begging for.
“I gotcha’ doll. Let go,” he assures, moving his thumb to rub quick circles on your clit. As if commanded, you let go right away. The pressure inside of you bursting with a moan, hips bucking wildly out of your control. Clenching desperately around his fingers. “That's it… that's my girl.” Your body comes down after a few seconds more, thighs twitching with the residual energy. Cooper delicately removes his fingers from you, a small whimper of overstimulation coming from you.
Placing them in his mouth, he laps up any of you he can get. “Sweet as honey, you are,” he teases. Letting out a breathy laugh at his comment, you fist your hand on his collar, pulling him in. The kiss is passionate, tasting yourself on him only spurs you on further. Your other hand trails down his body, finding the tent in his pants you give a teasing rub. His hips stutter forward briefly, making you smile into the kiss.
Your nimble fingers undo the button on his pants, the zipper following. Breaking the kiss you look up at him, silently asking for permission. Giving you a short nod, Cooper further pushes himself into you, bordering on grinding at this point. With a grin you take him out of his pants. You give a few experimental tugs, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His hips stutter again, “You better quit your teasin’ ‘fore I make you.” As enticing as that sounds, you listen. You rub him against you a few times before lining him up with your entrance.
Slowly, he starts to push in, your heat inviting him in. “F-fuck,” he whimpers, pausing for a moment. “I'm sorry baby, you just feel so good.” Pushing in farther, he bottoms out. He grinds into you, desperate to get as deep as he can. 
“Please, Coop, please move,” you whimper out. 
“You are so pretty when you beg. You will be the death of me darlin’,” he says, pulling out about halfway before slamming back in. He quickly sets a brutal pace, hips slamming into you quickly and harshly. The low buzz in your stomach quickly returns, every ridge of him rubbing deliciously inside of you. It's not long before you become a puddle of whines and moans, the low buzz bursting once more, stars exploding behind your vision.
His pace does not falter, his hips still moving at the same brutal pace. In fact, he finds this the perfect opportunity to start rubbing quick circles on your clit. Anything he can do to get you to go, needy to see it again.
“Come on now, you can do it one more time for me can't you?” not believing it can happen so soon again, you shake your head, pathetic whines falling from your lips. “Yes you can, come on. I'll follow right behind. One more for me, pretty girl,” he assures, his tone starting to sound as whiny as yours. The next one comes up faster than the others, beginning already so close to the precipice.
“Fuck, Coop im going to-”
“I know sweetheart, let go, come for me.” Your body takes that command wholeheartedly, you lock your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper as you fall over your precipice, his pace truly faltering, thrusts now short and sloppy. “Fuck, darlin’ im gonna’,” he attempts to say. 
“I know,” you say between whimpers of his name. Before long he joins you in bliss, filling you to the brim.
He rests his head on your shoulder briefly, pulling out after a moment and righting himself in his clothes. Rolling over onto the bed moments after. Cooper tiredly pulls you against him, not a care in the world at the moment. To be honest you didn't either. The Rad-Away would just have to wait.
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httpsleely · 2 days
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HQ BOYS AS YOUR S/O—WHAT I IMAGINE THEIR INSTAGRAM WOULD BE LIKE
synopsis. hq! boys using instagram but they're down bad for you
ft. hinata shoyo, tsukishima kei, suna rintarou, kenma kozume
others. character! is aged up, they're in college, uni au
notes. idk i feel like this could be better but I'm too lazy to be bothered. this is just a silly little thought while i was drinking tea 😌
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HINATA SHOYO would post you a lot. He definitely has you on his profile picture; either it's your solo picture or a picture of you and him. His posts would only consist of four things: you, volleyball, his friend's, and himself (occasionally)—but there's more pictures of you in it than the three mentioned. His fans teases him and says that his account basically turned into a fan page of you. His bio would be in between something so sweet or so cheesy. He'll probably have a corny quote.
“Romance is icing, but the love is the cake—@your_username”
“my love: @your_username”
“My sunshine forever & always @your_username”
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TSUKISHIMA KEI rarely posts you. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that. . . He likes having his privacy with you. but when he does post you, his fans go berserk. It's a rare opportunity for him to post you (I strongly believe he'd post you in special occasions; like anniversaries, special holidays (if you celebrate), or winning his games), so of course, everyone will have a field day about it. And when he posts you it's not just a simple picture, he'd have a full on note for you.
“Thank you @your_username for everything you do for me—for all the support you give me whether it may be coming to my games, cooking me good food, saying the exact words I need to hear, or even simply just your presence by my side. Thank you for being with me through everything. This 3rd year anniversary won't definitely be the last anniversary we'll celebrate—so here's to more love that I'll give you, pipsqueak. I love you always.”
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SUNA RINTAROU post you way too much. He'd have at least five highlights about you; one for his favorite pictures of you, one for him and you, one for your unflattering pictures, one for very special occasions that he's with you, and one for videos he took of you. And he doesn't just post you on his stories, he also has tons of pictures of you on his main post. If hinata has three things he post, well, suna only has you on his instagram. People often mistake his account for your account because of how much pictures you have in it.
“Café hopping with @your_username”
“She said that I should post this picture of her @your_username”
“Idk who this person is, do you? @your_username?” (*but his post is literally you)
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KENMA KOZUME posts (sometimes) whenever he feels like it. he just generally doesn't post a lot. But he posts about you on random occasions. mostly post dumps about you, like what he did in a month with you. Or simply just random pictures of you (some unflattering and some aesthetically pleasing). And he posts with no caption, just you and your @. his fans are basically dehydrated from pictures of the two of you, so they also have a field day whenever he post about you. I'm pretty sure it'd even go trending on twt (x) at least once or twice.
“🤍 @your_username”
“out & about w/ @your_username”
“ily @your_username”
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© httpsleely | reposting, modificating, stealing, plagiarizing, and translating my works on any platform are strictly prohibited.
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“Nanami-San is so sweet, isn’t he?” You glanced over to your coworker, Yuka. She seamlessly slid her way into the conversation you and another group of co-workers were having. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear and smiled, “Just now, he helped me fix the paper jam.”
“If only I could meet someone as kind as he is.” Mei sighed with a dreamy smile.
“Way better than the other guys here.” Nitori huffed.
“Don’t you think he’s so cool, (L/N).” Yuka smiled.
“Uh- y-yeah. Of course he is.” You replied quickly. The energy shifted in this small huddle, no one looked to have felt it except for you and…her.
“I’d bet he’d make a great boyfriend.” Yuka voice was traced with vile yet she smiled so sweetly at you and only you.
“He’d make a great husband!” Nitori smiled. “A man like that would be anyone’s dream!”
“Yeah, an equally great and gorgeous partner for someone like Nanami.” Yuka said.
Mei laughed, “Yeah you can say that Yuka because you’re already so pretty.”
“Oh my god guys, stop!” Yuka squealed as she finally took her eyes off you. The conversation faded out in your mind and it was only filled with the thought of Yuka. Yuka is so gorgeous. She had her hair lightened to a beautiful auburn color but even before she looked amazing. A youthful face with elegant eyes and long lashes. Lips always tinted pink, nails always manicured. She looked like every man’s dream. She was every man’s dream…
Yuka’s hand on your shoulder shook you out of your thoughts. “(L/N), are you alright?”
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.” You replied, noticing the other coworkers had left.
Yuka smiled that sickly sweet smile again, “Don’t worry (L/N), if you ever confessed to Nanami, I’m sure he’d let you down easy. Plenty of fish in the sea. Even someone with your looks could find a partner.”
With the grace of a swan she left. You suddenly felt very sick.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。✫・。.・゜ ✭・.
You entered the apartment slowly and quietly. You carefully slipped off your work shoes and sat your bag down. Lightly stepping from the door to the hallway and down the hall. You knew it was no use, he definitely heard you come in but for a moment you could pretend he didn’t. Deciding you were already caught, you took a nice long shower before heading back to the kitchen.
"Did something happen at work?" Kento asked.
"No."
"Really?" He turned around to face you. His hair was ruffled and pushed back. He wore an old worn out sweater you bought him under his soft yellow apron. A welcomed sight from the stern and business oriented Nanami Kento everyone at work was obsessed with.
"I'm fine." You say plainly. He's probably be better off without me....
Kento gently pulled you into his embrace. He gently caressed up anxiously down your arms as you melted into him. His chin rested on your head, “Please tell me what happened.”
You sighed, “You came up in a conversation today. Everyone said you are so perfect, and you are! And I’m just- not…”
As much as you enjoyed your “low-key” relationship, you couldn’t help but feel jealous at how they would swoon over Kento. How they would talk about your boyfriend to you as if you meant nothing to him. Kento said he loves you and you know he does! You wanted to tell them but then you’d be the talk of the office. There is no way out of this and you started to worry if those same coworkers had more to offer him.
“You are perfect. Far too perfect than I deserve.”
“Ken, don’t say thing just to make me feel better-“
He cupped your face in his hands, “(Y/N), I think you are the most kind, patient, diligent, and compassionate person I’ve ever met. You are far more perfect than a stubborn man like me.”
You laughed as you leaned into his warm hands, “Your not stubborn Ken, you’re just headstrong.”
“Now you are saying things to make me feel better.” He leaned in to place a kiss on you forehead, cheek and lips. Your hearted swelled and all the remarks from today drifted away. Yuka may be beautiful and can desire Kento all she wants but he comes home to you everyday.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。✫・。.・゜ ✭・.
After months of back-breaking labor, you’ve finally gotten a job offer at a new office closer to your home. Meanwhile Kento had also gotten a hire role in his department. It finally felt like things were going well.
“Oh, Yuka! Would you like to catch lunch with us?” Nitori called as Yuka entered the room. She plopped down on the seat next to you.
“I guess,” she playfully sighed. “I tried asking Nanami and guess what! He said he’s eating lunch with his partner! He’s had a whole relationship for like three years now!”
“Talk about lucky.” Nitori giggled.
“Ah, so none of us stood a chance.” Mei joked.
“Are you doing anything for lunch (L/N),” Yuka smiled her sickly sweet smile. You gave her one right back.
“Actually yes, thank you for asking though.”
Before she had the chance to ask, Nanami popped his head in the door. “(Y/N), are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m all finished.” You smiled. You grabbed you phone, making sure to savor Yuka’s shocked face and headed over to Ken. He gave you a light kiss on the head and his arm wrapped around your waist.
“Bye guys.” You waved. You knew you’d never hear the end of it when you got back but it was definitely worth it.
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hollyhomburg · 3 days
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Before I Leave You (Pt.70)
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(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The pack meet with Moonbyul to discuss terms.
Tags: Fluff, drinking and drunk characters, hurt/comfort, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, brief sexual content, oral f. receiving, Exhibitionism, car sex, Talks of mental disorders, implied/confirmed autistic jimin,
W/c: 12.1k
A/n: Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok are leaning over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.
Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. the need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.
Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that tae tied in his hair.
You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technice to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree.
It changes from wrestling to tickling. and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, Ganging up on your mate who takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.“
You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you, and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 
You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he fingers the gauze there.
"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say. 
Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” he asks. 
“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking, staring at his downturned eyes. The way his eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, pad across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 
"So should I consider that a four or-" 
"No, this time I'm being honest," Namjoon stiffens, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 
Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there and leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.
“Do you notice?” He asks, you swallow. Eyes itchy. 
“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 
“Still dry.” He says. 
You think of the mice, of drowning, you don't pull your hand from Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't let you anyway. You think about the mice, of dying, of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 
Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. “Still dry.” You agree. 
Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Pulling himself between your thighs where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 
He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 
“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 
“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 
Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a second, he loops his pinky through. 
Coming Saturday May 18th at 5PM EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)
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morganski-19 · 1 day
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 8
part 1, prev part
The hallway is empty when Dustin leaves the room. Steve and Lucas nowhere to be seen, Mrs. Mayfield gone somewhere else. Leaving Dustin alone to wander.
He doesn’t quite know what he wants. Where he’s going. Just following the path he would normally travel each day. Bouncing between rooms, looking for something to do.  Trying to find someone who would talk to him. Give him something to take his mind off the train tracks it’s bound to.
He grips the book in his hand, feeling the familiarity of wore out pages. Each one loved as he read and reread them over and over again. That’s what he does when he needs comfort. Goes back to the same story over and over again, to a world where he knows every outcome. Where there are no more mysteries. Dustin knows the answer to every question, every possibility.
It’s why he chose it to read to Eddie. It was a book the both of them loved, brought them joy in the darkness of life. He wanted Eddie to feel safe while his body was asleep. Knowing that some coma patients can hear what’s going around them. Even if it doesn’t register, it brings comfort on a subconscious level that there are people here supporting him.
At least that’s what Dustin hoped would happen, what he was striving to do. But he can’t do that today. There’s someone outside telling him that he can’t be in Eddie’s room right now. That something’s going on inside.
He goes right to thinking of the worst. That they are preparing him for some surgery that will probably delay the day he wakes up. Take more time from Dustin. Or maybe Eddie is dead behind those walls. Body finally succumbing to his wounds. His brain activity finally faded away. Leaving Dustin with the misplaced hope that it would all be ok.
He continues to wander into the waiting area. Seeing a familiar face getting a cup of shitty hospital coffee. Dustin must look confused, as Wayne’s face immediately looks concerned when he sees him.
“You alright kid,” he asks, stirring his coffee.
Dustin blinks. “They wouldn’t let me go into Eddie’s room.”
“Yeah, they’re working on him right now. Taking out his breathing tube.”
Panic fills Dustin, the only reaction he’s capable of right now. “Is he ok. That’s a good thing right?”
Wayne sets a steady hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Yes, that’s a good thing. Why don’t you go sit down, you seem like somethin’s upsetting you.”
Dustin lets Wayne lead him to an empty chair, taking the one beside him. Quiet, letting Dustin be the one to start talking about it. He doesn’t really know how to. Wayne’s been through enough already, he doesn’t need to go through his things too.
Now that he has things to go through.
This was so much easier when things worked out for him. When Will was found and ok. When all his friends made it out of the tunnels underground. When it wasn’t him who lost people, but he could be there to help the ones who did.
He's seen so many people go through the hospital. They always got better in the end, that was good. Why is it so hard during the wait for them to get better? Why does the hope leave him more and more each day? He was the happy one, the one with all the jokes. Helping everyone else out, making sure they smiled.
Who’s going to cheer them up now that the smile can’t seem to return to his face?
“Do you remember Max Mayfield? she lived across from you and Eddie in the trailer park.” Dustin says when the words finally form in his mouth.
Wayne nods. “I do. She a good friend of yours?”
“Yeah,” Dustin plays with the bent cover of his book. “Yeah, she is, one of my best friends. We’ve known her ever since she moved to town back in middle school. She's in a room down the hall from Eddie.”
Wayne looks at Dustin like he understands where this is going. Maybe he does. Or maybe he’s just used to the hospital life after all this time. “Figured, saw her mom here a few times. She doin’ ok?”
Ok isn’t the right word, but Dustin can’t speak for how she feels. He can only speak for himself. And he is definitely not ok. “She’s blind.”
The words feel more crushing now that they’re said out loud.
A sob escapes from Dustin’s chest. The crushing feeling he’s had for weeks finally breaking free. Everything coming out at once in this hospital waiting room. His face falls into his hands, palms pressing into his eyes. Trying to keep the tears inside.
A hand pats his back, comforting him while he breaks. Helping him through this pain. Someone he barely knows but feels so safe around. Silently telling him that everything will be ok. That he will be ok.
Someone else comes and crouches in front of Dustin, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, what happened?”
Dustin blinks the tears away enough to see Steve looking at him. “What do you think?”
He nods. “Why don’t I take you home, it’s already been a lot today.”
“What, no, I didn’t get to visit Eddie yet today. I have to read him the next chapter.” Dustin pulls himself to sit straighter, making himself look more put together. Tears still running down his cheeks.
“I think Eddie would understand if you missed a day. He would want you to take care of yourself.”
“He’s right,” Wayne agrees. Gently glaring at Steve, but still agreeing. “He wouldn’t want you to strain yourself for his sake.”
Why does everyone keep making decision for Dustin’s benefit? Do they even know what they’re talking about?
Still, Dustin lets Steve bring him home. His mind still stuck in that waiting room with the world falling down around him. Looking through the window doing nothing but add to his feeling. The peaceful outside now rampant with destruction.
The town was broken into pieces. People moved around between the shelters and the hospitals. Some even brought outside of the town to different hospitals in the area. It finally hits Dustin how much of this actually concerns him. How much it always concerned him.
How that kid he used to be kept smiling, he doesn’t quite know anymore. How he was still able to smile a week ago, he doesn’t know. With all that’s happened, with all his friends are going through, he thought he needed to bring levity to it all. Bring the hope that things could get better.
Hope is a dangerous thing. It makes people believe in something that might not happen. Makes him believe that the scars will fade, and the injuries will heal. That his friends will be exactly the same as he knew them last week. A year ago. Two years ago. When they first met.
He’s not even the same as he was a week, a year, two years ago. Somehow, foolishly he thought that life could move on from this. That the upside down would become nothing but a pin in the greater picture of his life. That down the line, when he’s married and maybe has a kid or two of his own, he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.
Now, it’s become more real than he’s ever thought of before. Now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to sleep the same again. The nightmares won’t leave with age. His friends will never become less scarred. His mind won’t be as scarred. His childhood will never be just his childhood. A part of it will always be captured by these memories. Memories that he can hope to only repress.
Dustin will have the privilege to walk away after all of these years without as little of a scar. He has what, a sprained ankle, and that’s it. Max is blind, Will’s lungs are damaged from extended time in the upside down. Lucas, Erica, and Mike are completely traumatized by what they’ve seen. By what they’ve been through.
Dustin is traumatized by what he’s seen. By what he’s been through. He’s always said that his was so much better than everyone else’s. That he was the least effected, so it was ok to diminish it.
He’s now realizing how stupid it was to think like that.
Note: Back to the Wayne POV in the next part. All of Dustin's POV will also be uploaded to ao3
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
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emilyprentissluvr · 2 days
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Don't Tempt Me (Don't Blame Me, Chapter 2)
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Emily Prentiss x Reader
Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.
Chapter 1
Warnings: Regular CM stuff
Words: 3.3k
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EMILY STARED at herself in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly curled with bangs sitting just above her eyebrows. The black dress she bought hugged every curve of her body and showed off her toned legs. Emily knew she looked good, but hated the small part of her that wanted to look good. 
A knock on the door made Emily tear her gaze away from the mirror. "Come in!" The brunette called and a couple of seconds later Hotch opened the door and walked into the locker room. "You sure you're up to this?" The unit chief asked, a hint of concern laced his signature frown.
"Yes Hotch, I am the one that suggested it," Emily reminded him as she walked to her locker to grab a pair of earrings. "I know, just double checking," Hotch said. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about this plan, if he could even call it that. It had been less than 12 hours since Emily suggested taking Y/n out on a date. How all of this transpired so quickly was still a mystery to Hotch. There was a higher probability of things going wrong than right, but he knew they had to act fast before Y/n left DC.
"Did Garcia find anything else?" Emily asked as she finished putting her small, silver hoops in.
"Well, she's using a burner phone to text you so we can't trace her. And we can't find her in any database with just a first name, plus it could be fake anyway." Hotch said as he leaned against the frame of the door. "So, in short terms, we have absolutely nothing." Emily sighed and Hotch nodded apologetically. 
"We do have her profile though. And up to this point, she's only ever killed men." Hotch offered and Emily couldn't help but laugh, "She's still an unpredictable, high-functioning psychopath."
"I know, I just..." Hotch trailed off, knowing that there wasn't anything to say to comfort the agent in front of him. "Don't let your guard down and don't do anything stupid." He added.
"Me? Do something stupid? Never." Emily said as she closed her locker and Hotch scoffed before cracking a rare smile. "The cars ready for you," He said getting back on topic, "Derek's going to be there and I have five other undercover agents scattered throughout the bar."
Emily nodded as she gathered her belongings and followed Hotch out the door. "Do you have a plan for when you get in there?" The unit chief asked as the pair walked into the elevator. "I'll make her wait for a little, maybe have Derek talk to her. Get her warmed up a bit and then take her down when she least expects it." Emily said.
"That's it?" Hotch asked slowly, already hating this plan more and more. 
"Well, there's still a chance Y/n knows exactly what she's walking into. And if she does then I'll press the button" Emily said as she held up her wrist. Penelope had given her a bracelet with a small button on it that would alert the team if she pressed it. "I know what I'm doing though, trust me on that."
"Okay, but if at any point I think things are going south I'm sending SWAT in," Hotch said seriously and Emily nodded in agreement. 
As they walked out of the elevator and to the car Emily felt her phone buzz.  She pulled it out of the bag, already knowing who the message was from.
Y/N (6:03 PM)- I can't wait to see you again, Emily.
Emily let out a shallow breath as she reread the message and then pocketed her phone. As soon as she got into the car she closed her eyes, trying to gather herself. She was no stranger to being undercover. In fact, this wasn't even her first undercover case with a serial killer. But it was the first time she had to go undercover as herself. No fake identities or new personas, just regular, old Emily Prentiss. So this should be easy enough, right? Well, at least Emily hoped to God it would be. 
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Y/n sat at the bar counter in the same black pantsuit from this morning as she waited for Emily to show up. The brunette had sent her the address to one of her favorite bars, and so far Y/n had been impressed. Although, it was currently 6:40, which meant that Emily was ten minutes late but Y/n wasn't too upset. 
"Now what is a pretty lady like you doing all alone?" A man asked as he slid into the chair next to Y/n. The woman turned her head and was face to face with Derek Morgan. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, and Derek had honestly never felt more scrutinized by someone's gaze until now.
"I'm waiting for someone," Y/n said, her hard look quickly turning into a smile and Derek was surprised by how genuine it looked. 
"I wouldn't make you wait," Derek said with a boyish smile as he leaned closer, his knees bumping into Y/n's as he swerved his chair more in her direction. Derek didn't know what he was expecting, be he did not expect Y/n to place a delicate hand on his knee, "I suppose I have time to kill," She said thoughtfully. "I'm Y/n."
"Derek," The agent said as he placed his hand on top of hers. 
"Ruler of the people," Y/n murmured as she tilted her head slightly.
"Excuse me?" Derek asked, confused as to what she was saying.
"The name Derek. It means ruler of the people," Y/n said as she removed her hand and placed it in her lap. She once again eyed the man up and down and Derek, who usually loved the attention from women, was starting to feel uneasy. 
"The meaning behind a name is just as important as the name, don't you think?" Y/n asked and Derek nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Now, are you going to buy me a drink or are you merely gracing me with your presence?" Y/n asked, her tone sickly sweet even when it was full of sarcasm.
"Oh right," Derek said shaking his head. He couldn't even comprehend how a two-minute conversation was already throwing him off his game, "What do want?"
"Two Old Fashioned's." Y/n smiled and Derek tried not to read into it the fact that that was one of Emily's favorite drinks. Derek waved the bartender down and ordered the drink. When Derek turned back to Y/n he saw that she was surveying the bar, obviously looking for Emily, although the intentions behind her eyes were still unknown to the agent.
"Are you sure you're not getting stood up?" Derek joked and Y/n turned to look at him with a slight eyebrow raise. "I don't get stood up," She said seriously and Derek believed it.
"Two Old Fashioned's!" The bartender said as he placed the drinks on the counter in front of them. From the corner of Derek's eye, he could see Y/n smile as she looked at the door. As soon as he was about to grab the drink, Y/n's hand cut him off and grabbed both of them. 
"Sorry to cut this short Derek, but it seems that my date has arrived." She smiled as she stood up. 
"Wait that was my drink-" Derek started before he was cut off by Y/n, who was behind his chair, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Not anymore."
Derek hated the way he tensed up but that only made Y/n laugh softly. "We should do this again sometime," Y/n murmured before pulling away and walking to the middle of the bar. Even though he was now nervous for Emily, he couldn't be more relieved to be away from Y/n. There was something about the woman that Derek couldn't shake.
"I was beginning to wonder when you would show up." Y/n smiled as she shamelessly looked Emily up and down. The brunette just shook her head apologetically, "Sorry! I got stuck at work." She said as the two women made their way through the crowd. 
"You look gorgeous," Y/n complimented as she fell into step with the brunette. Emily smiled as her hand easily found its way to Y/n's lower back as she guided her to a table in the corner of the room, "So do you," Emily said and she wasn't lying. The black suit fit Y/n perfectly and it was one of the reasons Emily had been so drawn to her this morning.
"I thought it was a slow day," Y/n threw over her shoulder. "I thought so too." Emily chuckled as they found a table, her hand dropping from Y/n's back as she reached for her drink. She briefly took note that it was her favorite drink, but she also knew that they had a similar taste in coffee so she didn't want to read into that much. 
"So what is it you do, Emily?" Y/n asked as she took a sip of her drink. 
"I'm an accountant with the firm a couple blocks away," Emily lied easily, "And you?"
"I'm a writer." Y/n smiled and Emily tilted her head slightly, "Really?" She asked, not expecting that to have been the younger woman's answer. 
"Yes, well, I'm a ghostwriter if you want to get specific," Y/n answered and Emily frowned, "What does that mean?"
"I write stories anonymously and sell them to authors so they can put their names on them," Y/n said.
"So you do all the work but don't get any credit?" Emily asked, extremely intrigued if the woman in front of her was telling the truth. Although it did make sense, Y/n didn't profile as a narcissist. 
"I do the work and get a big paycheck, darling. I love to write but I don't want the fame that comes with it." Y/n said and Emily brushed her finger against the younger woman's knuckles, "So I take it you're pretty successful. Who do you write for?" The agent asked, suddenly wondering if she had ever read one of Y/n's books.
"I'm afraid that's classified."
"I'll have you know I am nothing if not persistent," Emily grinned, "You went overseas for your job, right? So it's not an American author." Emily pointed and Y/n shook her head amused, "Alright, enough about me," Y/n said as she grabbed onto the brunette's hand, "Come on. Let's dance," She smiled as she began to drag Emily to the middle of the bar.
"Already?" Emily practically yelled as she followed Y/n. The brunette naively hoped that they would have talked longer. It was kind of part of her plan but it seems like that was out the window now. 
"It's never too early to dance," Y/n said as she pulled Emily flush against her in the crowded room. Her hands went to Emily's hips as the brunette threw are arms lazily around Y/n's neck. She couldn't help but stare into Y/n's eyes. Her gaze was soft, eyes reflecting the flashing lights of the bar, and Emily couldn't help but get lost in them. There was something innocent about Y/n's eyes and that was what pulled Emily out of her trance. Because Y/n wasn't innocent, actually she was probably the furthest thing from innocent. Emily took a deep breath and tried to refocus. 
"I never got the chance to finish my drink," Emily said as her body swayed to the music and Y/n followed suit.
"I didn't take you for someone who needs a drink to have fun," Y/n said as she pulled Emily impossibly closer, their noses were less than an inch away. "I'm not," The brunette said, tilting her head and she realized she would have the perfect angle to connect her lips to the soft ones in front of her. Not that she was going to, or wanted to,Emily reminded herself. 
"Oh yeah? Prove it." Y/n smirked as her thumbs brushed against Emily's hipbones. As soon as Y/n did that she felt herself being flipped around so that her back was right up against the brunette's front. Emily snaked her arms around Y/n's waist and hooked her chin on Y/n's shoulder. "Don't tempt me," Emily murmured against the shell of Y/n's ear, and the agent couldn't help but revel in the way Y/n shivered. For the first time tonight, Emily felt like she was the one in control.
"It's fun to rile you up though." Y/n smiled as turned her face towards Emily, her nose brushing against the side of Emily's cheek. 
"You couldn't handle me riled up." Emily chuckled, although her eyes betrayed her when her gaze focused back on Y/n's plush lips for a brief second. She had hoped Y/n hadn't seen it but of course, she wasn't so lucky. 
"Was that a challenge? Because I'll have you know, I love a challenge." Y/n said as she placed her hands on top of Emily's and leaned further back into her. Emily knew this was her chance, granted it came a lot sooner than she thought. But her trained eye saw the opening so she knew she had to take it, "Let's get out of here," Emily murmured into Y/n's ear, "I'll show you what a real challenge looks like." The brunette continued and Y/n immediately unwrapped herself from Emily's arms and dragged the both of them toward the bathroom. 
Emily made brief eye contact with Derek and he raised his eyebrows silently asking if everything was fine. She gave a slight nod, her code to let him know she was fine and to not approach unless she called for backup. The brunette quickly tore her attention away from Derek and to her hand that was interlaced with Y/n's.
Before they could even make it to the bathroom Emily felt herself being pushed against a wall and Y/n's soft lips claimed her own. She was taken back for a second but her hands still instinctively shot to Y/n's hips. It was the way that Y/n's hands made their to Emily's hair and tugged slightly that Emily was brought back to reality. 
She immediately kissed Y/n back, loving the way she could taste the slight hint of citrus. Wait, not loving, she was only doing this so she could arrest Y/n. Emily reminded herself, even though it was very hard to think about anything other than the Y/n's lips felt.
Emily pulled Y/n even closer, practically lifting the woman as her tongue trailed along Y/n's bottom lip. "Let's go back to my place," Emily said, pulling her head away for a brief second and trying to ignore the beautifully kiss-swollen lips in front of her.
"I have a better idea," Y/n murmured as she connected their lips once again, her kiss was hungry and passionate but soft at the same time. Emily tried not to enjoy it, she knew shouldn't. Y/n was a serial killer after all, but did she have to be so good at kissing?!
Emily felt herself being pulled away from the wall but her lips never left Y/n's. She didn't even know where they were going until she heard a door slam shut and a lock click. The agent internally cursed herself for not being attentive enough, but she could still fix this.
"I think we can do better than a quickie in the bathroom," Emily said as she easily flipped the two of them around, pinning Y/n to the wall by her hips. The younger woman gasped in surprise before looping her arms around Emily's neck. Y/n smiled as she started placing kisses along the brunette's defined jawline. She nipped at the spot just below Emily's ear and she tried her best to suppress the moan that wanted to leave her lips. 
"Not much of an exhibitionist, Agent Prentiss?" Y/n said as she pulled back and gave Emily a sadistic smile. 
Emily felt her stomach drop. She should have known this was too easy. Should have known the second laid eyes on Y/n in the bar earlier. But somehow she couldn't think straight whenever she looked at the woman in front of her. 
"What? Do you really think I am that stupid?" Y/n said with a pout as she studied the way Emily's face hardened. "That I would unknowingly walk into your so-called trap?" Y/n chuckled as she twirled Emily's curls in her hands. "And then you had Derek come over and flirt with me? It's quite comical how predictable you are."
"Why'd you come then?" Emily asked, trying to figure out the right moment to call for backup.
"Like I said earlier, I love a challenge." Y/n grinned before flipping them so quickly that Emily didn't have time to fight back before her back hit the wall. "But right now, it's proving to be rather easy," Y/n sighed as she traced Emily's bottom lip, "You and your team were supposed the be the best. But I have to say, I am rather unimpressed."
Emily immediately pulled her head away even though she had nowhere to go since she was still pinned to the wall. "So you knew who I was this morning at the coffee shop," Emily stated, not knowing if that was worse or better at this particular moment.
Y/n eyes lit up as she leaned closer, "No, I didn't know who you were. That part just was luck."
"So lucky," Emily muttered under breath.  
"As soon as I realized who you were, I cursed myself for being so sloppy," Y/n said, ignoring Emily as trailed her finger across her collarbones, "But then I realized that meeting you was a blessing in disguise. Because now I know what I've been missing for all these years."
"And what's that?" Emily asked as she quickly used all of her momentum and knocked both of them to the floor. Y/n's back collided with the ground and Emily straddled her hips to keep her down. The agent pinned her arms above her head and Y/n barked out a laugh as she stared at the woman on top of her, "Bold. I like it."
"Answer my question" Emily gritted out, as her hands tightened against Y/n's wrist. 
"This. I've missed this." Y/n said she leaned her head up, now inches away from Emily's. "The hunt. It's exhilarating. And I am definitely not going to complain about being pinned down by a very beautiful woman." Y/n grinned and Emily just shook her head. "Well, the hunt's over." She said as she leaned closer, their noses almost touching. "We have almost fifty agents waiting out there for you. The only way you're getting out of here is in cuffs." Emily continued and Y/n surged forward so their lips were almost touching, "Don't threaten me with a good time, Agent Prentiss."
Emily stared into Y/n's eyes, not liking the look in them. There wasn't an ounce of fear for someone who had just been caught. The agent racked her brain with the younger woman's profile, she knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. Knew that everything she did was unpredictable but also meticulously planned. There was no way someone of this caliber would walk into a trap and not have a backup plan. 
"I can see the cogs in your brain turning, Agent Prentiss." Y/n grinned and Emily shook her head, "What else are you up to?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the woman's under her. 
"Reach into my back pocket and find out," Y/n said as she wiggled her hips under Emily's weight. Emily rolled her eyes as she took her weight off the younger woman's torso and immediately hauled them both to a standing position. The agent made quick work of repining Y/n's arms behind her back.
She carefully reached into Y/n's back pocket and pulled out a small device. Emily furrowed her eyebrows as she got a better look at it and realized there was a small timer on the front that appeared to be counting down from 2 minutes.
"What is this?" Emily asked as she lifted the device to the other woman's eyes.
Y/n smiled as her eyes went from the device to Emily. "What? You've never seen a bomb detonator before?"
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ktempestbradford · 2 days
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Lactation Influencers... Are Y'all Okay?
I dislike clickbait headlines as much as the next Gen Xer, but that does not make me immune to them. Thus, when I saw this headline...
Cookbook author speaks out following controversy over lactation cookies ad
...I had so many questions that demanded answers. I had to click.
Friends, I was not prepared for the journey I was about to embark on.
Before I even got to the first line of the article, this assaulted my eyes:
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Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.
From the article:
Molly Baz is speaking out following controversy over a Times Square billboard featuring the pregnant cookbook author promoting lactation cookies. ... Brex, the company that sponsored Swehl's billboard, told ABC News the ad was removed following a message from Clear Channel, which owns the digital billboard. According to Brex, Clear Channel said the image depicted was "flagged for review."
Okay, but... lactation cookies?
According to Baz, the concept was meant to "empower" pregnant women and the cookies in the ad are marketed to help postpartum moms produce nutrient-dense breast milk.
*looks it up*
Y'all. They're called "BIG TITTY COOKIES"
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I'll give you a minute to breathe through it.
Eye-rolling aside, this isn't the worst product I've ever heard of and, hey, maybe the cookies are good.
So why did Clear Channel want the ad gone? The answer to that isn't straightforward for a couple of reasons.
They did not remove the ad or even ask it to be removed from their billboard.
Molly Baz decided to use this opportunity tragedy to raise her profile as a lactation influencer the alarm about how men are misogynist (????).
"It's super disheartening and infuriating to me that my, kind of, first public foray into being a public mother was one that was deemed inappropriate," Baz said. Said Baz, "From my perspective, the imagery that we put together was no different from any of the other ads that are in Times Square." "[T]ake one look at the landscape of other billboards in times square and i think you'll see the irony. bring on the lingerie so long as it satiates the male gaze," Baz wrote...
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I feel I can confidently say that I'm not being sex negative when I retort: MA'AM, what?
"There's a bit of a history of, I will say, a double standard that when bodies, specifically breasts are shown when it comes to selling lingerie, let's say, that's more acceptable but when it's something having to do with prenatal wellness or postnatal care, nursing, that tends to get flagged and we see a little bit of backlash," [Zoe Ruderman, a chief content officer for Adweek], added.
I know this is true in general, but in this case, is that what's really going on? After all, Clear Channel didn't even take the ad down permanently, and the marketing company provided an alternate ad without even being asked. One has to wonder if this is a manufactured controversy.
I say that even though I know full well that there is a double standard when it comes to women's bodies and whose gaze is being catered to and when it comes to lactating mothers, lactation, and women's health. That said, there's no way this image wasn't chosen for its Male Gaze Worthiness.
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It's not the amount of exposed flesh, which isn't any worse than any lingerie or bikini ad. It is that this woman is holding cookies up to her breasts next to text that says "Just add milk" and the name of a website/company that is probably well-known to people who are or want to be pregnant and little known outside of that. If I were in Times Square, looked up, and saw that? I'd assume it's an ad for a sex fetish bakery.
In all honesty, the thing I assumed was controversial (before clicking) was that someone had posted an ad for cookies made using human breast milk. That would have made somewhat more sense as a controversy.
There's no way everyone involved in "concepting" this campaign (yes, they used concept as a verb in their official statement) didn't know this was a possible reaction or outcome. They appear to have expected it. Which is why they immediately had another ad to replace it and some very RAH RAH WOMEN! Down with the Patriarchy! social media posts likely on deck. That's real feminist of you, becky.
The disingenuousness of it all bothers me the most. Just because the social justice issue they're highlighting is real doesn't mean they are somehow champions of the cause because they dared to show a pregnant belly on a billboard. If anyone complained, I doubt their complaint was based on a prejudice against lactating mothers or that lactation was hinted at.
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pagerspages · 3 days
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Being Trans is Scary
Being transgender is scary. It took me a while to comfortably use the term “Transgender” when thinking and/or talking about myself but I am. A Transgender person is someone who does not identify as the sex/gender they were assigned at birth. I was assigned male at birth and now I identify as nonbinary. I am transgender. 
A friend of mine called me an egg the other day. Granted I did say something rather egg like. I showed this to my other friend who assured me that I was very much cracked and there was only a bit of shell left. 
I played with makeup today for the first time. I’ve worn makeup before, but this is the first time I actually went out and bought makeup and put it on myself. I wore makeup when I was in plays in middle school and I have a former friend of mine that did my makeup once. I don’t know if I’ll ever be one to wear a full face of makeup daily. Eye makeup is fun though. I will definitely do eyeliner and mascara again, maybe eyeshadow too. 
Now to the scary part I guess. I live in an area where trans people are not respected. They are ridiculed and treated as less than human, for this reason I probably wont be coming out to anyone other than a few close friends. I think like four people know right now. I was doing my makeup today with a friend of mine in her backyard when her mom came out. Her mom is one of those people who would probably not treat me very nicely. I had just about finished my lipstick when we heard the door open. I hurried and grabbed a makeup wipe and got the lipstick off and the majority of the eyeshadow. Thankfully she either just didn’t notice or didn’t say anything. 
I’m not sure why I got so scared. I mean the absolutely worst thing that could have happened is not being able to go back to their house but that wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. I’m an adult and the only reason that we live with our parents is because rent is out of control. I know people have it worse but like I got a very small glimpse of what could have been today. I’m willing to bet that why I have suppressed these feelings for so long is because of the area I was raised in.
Remember it’s okay to mourn the people you could have been if your situation were better. 
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mintaikcorpse · 3 days
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This was noticed by @timkontheunsure but I need to talk about it because it does NOT sit right with me
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Look at how much he grew from the first pic to the second pic. The robe still fits in the first pic and his head goes to the light switch, but in the second pic, he's a lot taller and the robe no longer fits.
He wasn't even fully grown when Octi was a kid.
Stolas is 36, and, assuming him and Stella are the same age, means they were both forced to have Octavia at NINETEEN.
And like, yeah, teenagers get pregnant, and nineteen is a legal adult, but this wasn't by choice, and they still had a kid so young. Like, my sister is about to be 19, and I genuinely can not see her having a kid. Same with the girls at my school. 18-19 is so young to have a kid! Most people have kids between the ages of 24-27. If Octavia was 5 in the first pic, that means that Stolas and Stella were raising a kid by the time people were just starting to have kids!
Not to mention the whole arranged marriage thing! In their queer adolescence post, timkon mentions how Stolas (and Stella's but they were talking about Stolas) only purpose was to read the stars and have a kids, so he's going to be given a book and paired up immediately when he's 18. Didn't even have time to explore himself or life outside of "Stars, marriage, and baby." It's even implied on Blitzø's insta that he was suicidal during this time, and that the only reason he didn't off himself was because of Via.
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And like- there's worse. It always gets worse.
Stella makes a comment saying that Stolas is terrible in bed, and this could just be that he just isn't attracted to women, but some people have also theorized that Stella had 🍇 Stolas. I'm more on the first option, but honestly, I can see where they're coming from. While I don't think it was 🍇 in the traditional sense, it definetly seems like a traumatic experience for the both of them. They both know that they're only purpose was to have a kid, so they most likely felt pressured to do it, and since Stolas is a lot more akward and reserved than Stella and it doesn't clash well with her basically verbally assaulting him all the time, it probably ended up being a traumatic experience for him.
And can you imagine that? Being stuck with Stella for about a year (he probably got married at 18) and having to deal with her being a bitch throughout the entire time you're with her, and only staying alive because of your kid? Like, she was awful before he cheated on her. 17 years of this crap. That's gotta do something to your psyche.
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madwomansapologist · 2 days
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Marcille studying how to take care of chickens and using that knowledge to help her clean Falyn's feathers.
light like a feather | marcille donato x falin touden
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Navigation | More Farcille | AO3
synopsis: Marcille being hungry for knowledge isn't a novelty. Unless the subject is chickens.
warnings: alright first time writing for dungeon meshi + first time writing a ship. what a month to be sapphic. also i am high on cramps medicines so vibe with me. fluff and an attempt at comedy. non canon compilant. where does it takes place on the story? whenever you want boss
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From the balcony, Falin watched as they moved in the forgotten city. Cooking dinner, counting the suplies, mapping the ever changing ways. So concentrated.
She could jump. Falin could land right next to Senshi, nineteen feet bellow the balcony, without a single scratch. Her breath wouldn't even be affected. Althought it would be an easy task, she continued there. Alone, watching over them, very aware that this wasn't some sort of saint-like behavior anymore.
It was the one of a predator.
Falin had a dragon within her. Not human, not monster. She was something new entirely. Falin should be mad. Grieving over herself, over what was taken from her and what was needed to get her back. She didn't.
It was great. To be strong. She never strong before. Laios is the strong one. The fighter, the protector. She knows she is stronger than him now. And she feels... free. Like whatever that was taken from her didn't belong there at the first place. A useless weight that left her soul.
Before she would too watch over the party. It was great to observe, to understand people without being perceived. It was easier like that. People used to think she was too calm, too nice, too great. They would probably say that her stare is off-putting now.
She wanted to jump, but instead walked downstairs. An old building, perfect for them to spend the night and get ready to move for the next layer. The ghosts there welcomed them.
She smelled Marcille before seeing her. It was impossible to not recognize her perfume. The soap — made by the mage herself —, the mixture of flowers, a bit of cinamon. Delicate, as most elfs are.
She didn't mean to sneak into her room. It was just natural for her to not make noise. Watching the long hair dripping against Marcille's nightgown, a glimpse of the book she had on her hands caught her attention.
Chickens: care and reproduction.
"You want to be a farmer now?" Falin sat besides her. "Good thing I haven't bet on that."
Marcille practically jumped away, yelling more than if a lion was attacking her. Falin only giggled.
She always had been prone to exageration. Marcille doesn't lie, not to her. All it takes is one glance and Falin knows what she's feeling. And now she is acting like a child caught stealing from a cookie jar.
"Falin! You scared the life out of me! And what... why would you ever bet on that? I am only interest on... chickens. That's all."
Liar. Horrible liar.
Falin sat besides her, and it barely took a minute for Marcille to grab her hand. Another thing she is glad. She never knows when people want her closer, but Marcille always tells her what she wants.
Squeezing lightly at her thin hand, Falin tried to read the book. "And what about chickens are so interesting?"
"I, humm, I wanted to understand a few things. Just curious," Marcille bit her lip. She seemed embarrassed. Maybe Falin wasn't sneaking, but Marcille was definitelly hiding from something. "About their feathers."
Oh. Sure. Marcille's always talking about how hair can be crucial to magic users. And since she cut her own, Marcille is probably worried about the lack of the resource. Maybe feathers is a substitute for that.
But since they are still so deep into the dungeon, Falin don't think they'll be able to find anything like that. There is no mammals there. Actually, she isn't sure of that. But Laios must know!
Then, what are they both even thinking about. There is a clear, easier solution for that. "You can cut mine. It's no problem."
Marcille stared at her, the embarrassment gone. "What?"
"My hair," Falin said, smiling proudly. "If you ever need more for a spell, just cut mine. It's fine. Don't need to look for substitutes when I'm here."
Marcille closed the book, throwing it away. Laying down at the bed, she pulled Falin with her. Marcille just remembered why she never had the need to hide things from Falin. Always so toothaching sweet.
"I worry so much about you," Marcille got the hair away from Falin's golden eyes. So enchanting. "Do you know how long it took me to align your bones? To put everything at the right place, the perfect order?"
Falin didn't answer. She didn't knew it, but wouldn't open her mouth either way.
"Even when I was done, when I was watching as your skin grew, I wasn't sure if I haven't mistook anything." Marcille held her hand, the touch so delicate. Their finger fit perfectly together. "You're the one to care for our souls, so I will gadly care for your body."
Falin watched their fingers intertwined. She feels so warm around Marcille. Almost as if Marcille is the dragon. So protective, so careful. So perfect.
"And what does that have to do with chickens?"
Marcille laughed. It was loud, and soon Falin was laughing along side her.
"You have feathers now," Marcille brushed against them. "I need to help you with them."
Oh.
Falin stopped laughing. Her feathers. The most obvious trace of the monster within her. And instead of fearing it, ignoring it, hating it; Marcille cares for it. Skin and feathers, teeth and fangs.
She didn't felt like a predator anymore. Just like herself.
"You're so dumb." Falin got up from bed.
"Falin!" Marcille was quick to clumsy follow her out of the room. "You take that back!"
Helping Senshi, she ignored as Marcille tried to understand what she meant by that. Surrounded by her friends, Falin just allowed the truth to sink in.
She wasn't alone anymore.
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
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yukyuki · 2 days
Text
As Simple As That- LH’44
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summary- It had been rumored that Lewis Hamilton was dating someone, but she was not famous nor “anyone special” but they don’t know what she means to Lewis. ❤️‍🔥
warnings- smut 🔞mdni!, age-gap, insecure reader, language, some grammar errors, slight aftercare, fluff ☁️, romantic Lewis
a/n- he is just the type to do this! ✨I know I’ve been gone for like the longest time so have a Lewis fic <3
You smiled softly looking at your finished curled hair swinging it gently styling it more. You put on your glossy lip oil you smiled at yourself in the mirror. All the sudden your phone rings and you grabbed it, you believed it had been a text from Carmen since you and her had planned a double date with your boyfriends. But no, apparently someone must have tagged you in their post, clicking on the notification you see pictures of you and Lewis. Lewis’ fans have seen you two around LA in the arcades and malls having cute dates. The cute pictures of both of you bring a smile to your face, there was one where you were playing basketball in the arcade, getting drinks while holding hands, him holding your bag and even both of you kissing. Your smile got bigger with each picture until you reach the section that Lewis had prohibited you from going, the comments.
comments
“Can’t believe THE LEWIS HAMILTON is dating a girl like her!”
“what’s so special about her? Isn’t she like years younger than him?”
“she probably wants the fame”
“she’s so ordinary and she’s honestly not that pretty”
“Lewis deserves so much better not a child!”
All those comments started to hurt your feelings really bad, even though you had promised yourself to not let anything like this hurt you, but they started to get into your head, setting your phone down on the bed you take a deep breath and stare at yourself in the mirror which you gasp quietly seeing Lewis already standing behind you.
You watched his eyes scan your body from behind, he looked at the dress hugging your waist down to the skirt that was loose yet he couldn’t help but go crazy for your body curves. Coming closer to you his ink covered hands land on your waist leaning to kiss your shoulder slowly resting his chin in your shoulder.
“you look so pretty my love, I think this is my new favorite dress on you” he whispered looking at you in admiration through the mirror. You give him a soft smile slowly resting your soft hands on his rough ones.
“Lew…do you…do you think I’m too ordinary or…a child… to be dating someone like you?” you asked making his eyes go wide as his embrace around you loosen slightly. He never thought you would be asking him something like that, to which he suddenly felt nervous and concerned as to what had made you ask that and what would happen.
“Y/n, sweetie where does that come from? You are an amazing girl, and I think I should be the one questioning myself as to why I’m with someone so perfect as you” he said smiling as you gently smile slowly shrugging your shoulders looking slowly towards your phone on your shared bed.
“No Lew, you’re right…I…sorry, I just…social media is such a horrible place” you say still looking at your phone slowly walking towards it grabbing it, it was left on and it was like hate towards you was trending.
Giving your phone slowly to him he saw the previous comments but started to scroll and the new ones just grew worse as he shook his head giving you a sign that he was angry, he wasn’t the type to yell or get aggressive when angry but from the time you’ve been together you’ve learned to see that anger through his eyes and knew exactly when he was mad.
Taking the phone back you sit on the bed, glancing at the screen.
comments
-she’s such a whore you guys she’s dated another driver before right?
-what!? she has??
-oh no wonder she’s after MY Lew
-she’s probably just his sex toy for the moment!
-he’ll leave her soon
He slowly kneeled down in front of you taking your phone away.
“Don’t you ever let those comments in your pretty head okay love…those people just have nothing to do…and they think that by doing this they might achieve something…those are not true fans loves, my actual fans loves you” he comforted you seeing tears starting to build up in your eyes. He quickly moved you on the bed and he laid next to you holding you close. Your head rested on his chest as his heart beat soothed you down as a tear rested on your cheek.
“I know love, I just…I don’t know I’m being hated on too much…what if those comments now get to you? and you leave me when you realize I’m not like other girls” you say softly as he moved propping himself on his elbow looking at you wiping your tear away with his thumb.
“baby of course you aren’t like other girls…you’re way beyond perfect in my eyes and that’s what matters, I’ve experienced those comments myself telling me I couldn’t achieve something and here I am…you my love you are too perfect you’ve become a target” he whispered kissing you softly.
“You’ve been my greatest supporter and been there through my lowest, we have never fought and when we do it only lasts 5 minutes or less, now you ordinary? baby you are extraordinary…you are not an extravagant girl you are definitely smart, you take care of me and show me your love in all the ways you probably can, you my love are as simple as that and I couldn’t ask for more” he said which ended in you being a crying mess you slowly wrap your arms around his neck hugging him tightly making sure to let him breathe you kiss his temple pulling away.
“I think I just fell in love with you again Lew” you say giggling through sobs wiping your tears.
“I fall in love with you every day baby” Lewis responded showing his teary white coming down to kiss you rubbing your sides. You smile at the feeling slowly rubbing his chest up to his face cupping it in your small hands. Your phone started ringing with more hateful DMs, Lewis head slowly turned about to reach for it as you slowly stopped him pushing your phone of the bed.
“I need to feel loved right now Lew” you whispered blushing pecking his lips.
He chuckled quietly at you as he nodded kissing your cheeks as his fingers slowly came in contact with the zipper to your dress.
“you know what I also love about you?” he asked you smiling softly seeing how your eyes started to sparkle and how your big eyes looked at him as you hummed waiting for his answer.
“our “alone time” it’s always filled with love and not forgetting how beautiful you look” he started making your cheeks start to redden as you covered your face in embarrassment.
“Lew” you whined giggling as he pulled your hands away gently kissing them softly.
“it’s true baby…you’re even perfect when we’re making love…your body, your actions, your sounds they are all so perfect to me” he whispered in your ear smiling as you squirm gently feeling embarrassed but so happy to have someone like Lewis to your side.
“can we…make love tonight?” you whispered to him slowly moving your hand up to his hair gently twirling one of his braids around your finger.
“we can watch the movie after, through my projector” you say making him chuckle as he now got shy. Even after years of being together till now your love making was always gentle in a way that he was never harsh with you, until this day he always made sure you could feel all his love.
As you kissed him slowly again you reach down to his shirt pulling it off as you kept it close feeling its warmth as your free hand rubbed his cheek feeling his beard against your soft palm he moved to hovered over you slowly unzip your dress as the kiss got more passionate.
“you lips are so perfect” he whispered through the kiss as your hands rubbed his strong arms giving him soft scratches sitting up slowly you take your dress off as his eyes admired your body you smiled at him as his finger slowly traced your forearms down to your hand pushing you back on the bed. His eyes couldn’t look away from the new lingerie set he saw you wearing, a black laced push up bra that made your boobs just more perfect to him.
“god see baby? you’re like a goddess…my goddess” he whispered kissing your neck down your collar bone to your cleavage as his hands moved to your thighs squeezing them. Moaning quietly at his touch you started to grow wet for him down on your core. You bit your lip watching how his hand made its way into your panting making you gasps as his cold rings touched your warm sensitive skin.
“Lew” you whispered rubbing his shoulders as he his hand reached behind you unclasping your bra pulling it off as it landed somewhere in the room.
As his mouth wrapped around your nipple his fingers started to tease your clit rubbing it gently with his thumb. His hand slowly moved reaching to your panties taking them off as your body got goosebumps from the chilly air hitting your core. Noticing he kissed your forehead pulling the sheet on you making sure you were warm.
Reaching down to his pants and boxers he let you unbutton them before he finished taking them off. In a few minutes you two were naked under the sheets kissing and touching each other before he pulled away turning you to your side.
Giggling quietly against his lips your turn comfortably as he laid next to you pulling your back against his chest.
“Lew…what are you doing?” you whispered blushing as he laid his arm under your head and lined up himself to your entrance.
“We can always try new things baby…is this okay?” he asked as you moved your hand back touching his cheek nodding slowly as your eyes closed slowly releasing a moan as he entered you, he went in gentle but deep like always yet the stretch he gave you was always amazing.
His free arm slowly hugged your waist as he also moaned quietly into your ear. Holding his hand softly your head fell on his other arm moaning his name louder.
“Lew…go faster baby” you whispered with eyes half closed as he did what you told him picking up the pace. You whined in pleasure once his skin was slapping against your as you sat up slowly moving his hand to your clit as he added pressure to your clit.
“oh fuck!” you screamed feeling a knot on your lower stomach throwing your head back, looking at the sweaty Lewis next to you, you placed a passionate kiss on his lips before moving away, getting on top of him sinking down on him. Groaning at the feeling and the sight of you was driving him crazy his hands resting on your ass as you moved up and down was enough to come for you there and then.
“god you’re so perfect…look at you” he whispered biting his lip pulling you down kissing you as you kept moaning moving your hips harder
“L-Lewis…I’m coming” you said as he nodded quickly admiring you, he was always ready for you. Placing butterfly kisses on your neck down to your collar bone you threw your head back releasing on him scratching his shoulders as he followed after a few seconds.
Wrapping your arms around his neck he held you close bringing you back down on the bed, kissing your cheek he pulled out of you.
“I’ll be right back my love” he whispered to you reaching his shirt giving it to you before pulling on his boxers going to the bathroom you couldn’t help but smile tiredly looking towards the bathroom waiting for your boyfriend to come back. After a few minutes he came back with a two towels.
Moving into the bed he slowly wiped your sweat off your forehead gently down to your neck, as he reached for the other one moving down, cleaning your part, you couldn’t help but blush. You were truly so lucky to have him. Wrapping your body in one of his silk sheets he joined you under the other covers and pulled you close to him in the same position you started with your head on his chest.
As he kept admiring you and sharing sweet kisses his phone rang which he reached for not letting his body leave yours.
“Hello?” he answered to which you remained quiet enjoying his heartbeat and his soft voice hugging his waist.
“Oh sorry mate, couldn’t tell you sooner something came up…yup last minute…I couldn’t ignore it” he said looking down at you smiling at his little lie which you tried to hide your giggle.
“yup yes definitely next weekend, enjoy you guys! have a good night” he said before hanging up.
“can’t believe I had to lie baby…I hope George believes it” he said softly rubbing your shoulder.
“I bet he will, he’s too distracted sometimes” you say snuggling closer to him, the rest of the night you remained in each other’s arms watching movies on your projector, eating popcorn and sharing touches and kisses. You both for sure were such a simple but cute couple and that night you proved again what you meant to Lewis.
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