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#I was like..................... get him a manicure
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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.
“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”
“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.
“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.
derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.
“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”
emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”
three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.
he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.
“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.
before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.
“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”
“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”
“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”
“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”
“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.
“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.
“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”
all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.
spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”
“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.
with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”
“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”
“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”
“i don’t like this conversation either.”
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hecateslore · 16 hours
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💗🎀
papa!simon and reader pre- children are something I loooovvveee to think about.
"So you're in the military?" You ask, swirling your straw around in your cup. "Sort of." He half smiles, watching your freshly manicured hands toy around with your drink. Simon was nervous- for what felt like the first time ever. After you said yes to dinner plans, he couldn't contain his excitement, he didn't sleep right, he was convincing himself to not show up at your work just to see you.
"What are you going to school for?" He looked back up at you, "Art history!" You smile, " What about you?"
"I didn't finish," He nodded, "But I've always wanted to, just had different plans." He shrugs, you only stare at his brown eyes, entranced with his deep smile lines.
After you both ate, you sat and talked til the restaurant closed, forcing you two to grab your things and leave.
"I know this twenty-four hour cafe, it has Gelato, if you want to go," You offer, back tracking the minute he doesn't respond, "Or we don't have to." You chuckle, "I like Gelato." He assures you, placing his hand on your arm, You smile at him, "It's this way." You say, swallowing a screech that was itching to come out.
-
"What flavor did you get?" You peer over his arm to get a look at his cup, "Lemon." He tips it so you can see, "You mean Limone" Simon scrunches his nose- cringing at your poor pronunciation (if you're Italian so srry), making you giggle, "That was horrible." He chuckles, You only laugh louder than before. "What about you?" He asks, the spoon held between his teeth. "I'm very boring, I got chocolate." You tip your cup over showing him, "That's very boring." He jokes, "Shut up." You nudge him, Simon barely moving from the action.
When the night ends, Simon walks you home to your over priced one bedroom apartment, your stomach sore from laughing to hard, your cheeks feeling like they've been stretched because of how much you've been smiling.
You didn't want the night to end, wishing you had more to talk about, praying something would fall out of the sky and crush your jobs building so you could stay out later.
You were standing on your doors step, prolonging your goodbyes. "I had fun," You grin, "You're funny Simon Riley." You place your hand on his buff shoulder (cause of course!), giving it a light squeeze. His charm making you feel like a teenager in love. "I'm glad you think I'm funny." He bites back a smile, he looks at his watch watching the time get later and later. "I would invite you in but, I don't think thats a good idea." You say softly, staring into his big brown eyes, noticing his thick eyebrows and lashes. "I don't think so either," He grins, your hand travels to the side of his face, holding his cheek, you place a kiss to his other cheek.
"Goodnight." You intone, making his grin wider, "goodnight." He says it back to you softly, watching you twist the door knob-you look back at him to wave bye. And like a school boy he wanders back to the hotel waiting for your call tomorrow.
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surielstea · 3 days
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Lunch Break
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel surprises reader at work with food and a clingy attitude.
Warnings: Az being handsy with reader | cursing
2.5k words
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I was in the middle of scheduling a meeting on my boss's calendar when the loud ringing of the phone made me jump.
I quickly picked up the phone and tucked it beneath my ear then continued my typing before I lost my train of thought.
“Velaris enterprises, how can I assist you?” I say with a polite tone.
“It’s Feyre, can you tell Rhys to pick up his phone?” A familiar female voice sounds on the other side of the line. A smile curves my lips.
“Hi Fey, I’ll transfer you to him right now,” I say to the woman with a light tone.
“Thank you,” She sings as I redirect the call to my boss who seemed too busy to pick up his wife’s call.
The line ends and I hang up the phone and then return my attention to my desktop, I had only one more report due until I was letting myself take my lunch break, reclining in my chair with a huff as I continue to type, manicured nails clicking along the keys at a fast pace. In the middle of my sentence, the phone rings again and I pick it up blindly, keeping my eyes on my screen.
“Feyre I could knock down his door but I doubt he’ll answer—” I begin but I am cut off by the other line.
“It’s me.” Is all I heard and my spine straightened at the baritone voice that was so very familiar.
“What’d I tell you about calling my work phone?” I say slightly hushed, afraid my coworkers will notice me being off task.
“You weren’t answering your texts,” He defends, his tone playful, making me suppress a smile.
“What’s so important you couldn’t wait until my break?” I ask, the amused tone in my voice unavoidable as I mindlessly doodle on a blank sticky note, unable to multitask when talking to him.
“I brought you lunch, come downstairs,” He replied and a smile tugged at my lips.
“Right now?” I mumble into the phone with a soft sigh.
“Yeah, c’mon gorgeous it’s going to get cold,” He urged and this time I let myself smile.
“Alright, I’ll be down in five just need to finish something up real quick,” I say, and before he can protest I hang the phone up.
I rush to finish my report, doing it in three minutes instead of five, and feeling slightly accomplished with myself as I close the tab.
I stand from my chair, brush my short skirt down, and round my desk to approach the door to my Boss’s office. I knock lightly before creaking open the door, only to spot Rhysand on the phone with his wife presumably, feet propped up on his desk casually as he did anything but work.
“I’m taking my break,” I whisper and he nods, giving me a wave of my hand. I close his office door and pivot in my high heel.
I walk down the aisle of cubicles with a small skip in my step, excited to see my boyfriend, and also the food he brought for me.
“Taking your break already?” A man named Matthew had asked, leaning back in his chair and peering up at me.
“Yeah, I didn’t get the chance to eat anything this morning,” I reply politely, passing by him.
“You should come out with me and some of the other guys after work tonight, we’re going to the bar off Ninth Street,” He gestures westward and my brows raise a fraction.
“Sounds fun, I might have plans but I’ll let you know,” I say with a gentle smile and he nods, then turns back to his desk.
“Have a nice lunch,” He lowly whistles as I continue my path toward the elevators.
Mathew and his friends had always been so kind to me, I hadn’t really known why, they knew I was with Azriel, which meant they knew they had no chance. And they didn’t seem like the type to respect women, especially not secretaries. So it was best to let them down easy and politely decline their offers or at least give them false hope.
I clicked the button of the lift that would take me down to the lobby, the ride was long from the top floor, giving me the chance to wonder what kind of foot Azriel had brought for me since he hadn’t mentioned it.
I bounced on my heels impatiently until the elevator dinged and the doors parted. I smile and walk out, tucking my arms behind my back to contain my excitement. Gods, I felt like a teenage girl meeting her first boyfriend in the hallway.
“Hi, Mrs. Levvy,” I wave to the older woman who sat at the check-in desk in the building.
“Leaving, dearie?” She asks with a soft smile that I return.
“I’ll be back, just going to pick up lunch,” I say and she nods, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.
The automatic doors open and I immediately spot my boyfriend leaning against his black bike, arms crossed over his chest as the sun beams down onto him. His eyes lock with mine and a dimpled smile takes over his features as I approach him, taking in the way his compression shirt hugs his large arms or the way his tattoos run up the side of his neck.
“Hey, gorgeous,” He greets, hands coming to my waist as I stand between his legs.
“Hi, handsome,” I return, wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck and pressing a soft peck to his lips then pulling away a moment later. “What’d you bring me?” I ask, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth. He turned to his side, his helmet and a paper bag propped onto the seat of his bike. He grabs the bag and hands it to me. I peer inside and am immediately met with a familiar savory scent. I look up at him with a beaming grin. “My favorite?” I ask and he nods.
“For my favorite girl,” He hums, hands lowering to my hips.
“Thanks, Az,” I sling my arms around him and hug him tightly. He returns it, his head nuzzling into the crook of my neck. He stays like that, not wanting to move away until inevitably I pull back.
“What’s the occasion?” I say, placing the bag beside his helmet, I still had ten minutes left to my break, and I was determined to spend every last second with him.
He shrugs. “I didn’t get to make you breakfast before you left this morning,” He said and I smiled at the memory, how he sleepily clambered from bed only to coerce me back to the mattress with his deep voice and lazy kisses. It hadn’t lasted long before my alarm went off for the umpteenth time and we both knew I had to leave if I didn’t want to be late.
“That’s sweet of you to leave work for me,” I smile down at the bag and then back up to him, one of my hands intertwining into his hair.
“The shop was slow today, I only had a few appointments until I decided to close early,” He excuses and I tilt my head up at him.
“Still, means a whole lot,” I murmur, leaning into his chest as his hands snake down until finding purchase at the curve of my ass. “Az,” I warn.
“What? This skirt is so short and I’m only a man,” He defends and I roll my eyes.
“Keep it in your pants,” I scoff.
“Afraid I can’t, gorgeous,” He shakes his head. “What about all the other men in that office? They shouldn’t be staring at what’s mine,” He practically whines and I look at him in both disbelief and amusement.
“I assure you, they know I’m yours,” I put him at ease, my hands coming to his jaw.
“Now you know how I feel when you wear these slutty shirts,” I say, tugging at the hem of his compression shirt. He smiles because he knows exactly what I’m talking about. The bastard was highly aware of what he was doing to me.
“Guilty,” He smirks, his hands gripping my ass and I squeal, an uncontrollable grin coming to my features, I was going to retort only to be cut off by the alarm from my phone, that familiar ringing that only meant separation for us. Azriel audibly groans as I quickly silence my alarm, my smile fading away.
“I’m sorry, babe I’ll see you at home okay?” I say and he pulls me impossibly closer, stuffing his face back into my neck.
“Don’t go,” He practically whines and I run my hand through his hair reassuringly.
“You know I’d stay if I could,” I sigh and he tears from my neck in favor of looking me in the eyes.
“Come back home, I’ll take the rest of the day off and we could spend it together,” He pleads, the male awfully clingy despite his usual cold demeanor.
“Az, I can’t my boss—” I start.
“Who? Rhys?” He cuts me off and I frown up at him, then give him a dip of my head as a nod.
“Let me talk to him,” He urges. “I promise you’ll get the rest of the day, paid,” He says and I look at him pointedly, not believing him one bit.
“And how are you going to do that?” I retort.
“He owes me,” He shrugs.
“For what—” I start but he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the entrance of the building.
“C’mon, I want to be home already,” He says as I intertwine our hands.
Mrs. Levvy looks up through her glasses at the two of us with an arched brow. “You can sign her out, she’ll be leaving soon,” Azriel says, dragging me towards the elevators. I apologize for his behavior as the doors close on me but she only waves me off with a chuckle.
“Why are you so needy today?” I say, poking his abdomen as the lift takes us to the top floor.
“Can’t help it when you’re dressed like this,” He replies, arms slinging over my shoulders and hugging me from behind.
“So possessive,” I murmur as the doors slide open and I leave his grasp. I walk down the line of cubicles, heads turning as Azriel walks behind me with his hands stuffed into his pockets casually. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” I whisper in the quiet office, dialing on the phone but when I glance up at the brunette I spot him opening the door to Rhysand’s office. Panic rises in my chest and I pale, rushing to stop him.
I enter the room and wedge between Azriel’s frame and the door. Rhys looks at me expectantly. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what he’s thinking,” I smack my hand against my boyfriend’s chest before gesturing him out of the office. My boss only chuckled.
“Relax, if you think this is the first time Azriel’s barged in on me you’re sorely mistaken,” Rhys says with a coy smile.
“Gather your things, baby,” Azriel says with an outmatched confidence. I stare up at him in bewilderment and he only jerks his head as a gesture to my desk and I glare in warning, silently telling him that I’ll kill him if he gets me fired.
Reluctantly, I leave the office and go back to my desk, the door closing behind me. Anticipation rolls into a mass of anxiety. To distract myself I do as Azriel said, collecting my items and putting them into my purse, slinging it over my shoulder, and by the time I was ready to leave Az had exited the office with a soft smile on his lips.
I look at him expectantly. “You ready?” He asks and my jaw nearly drops.
“Wait, how did you?” I say with creased brows, looking at the closed office door and then at him quizzically. He shrugs innocently.
“When you’ve known someone since you were eight years old it’s easy to convince them,” He explains and I narrow my eyes on him.
“You blackmailed him, didn’t you?” I accuse and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“I did, yeah,” He grabs my hand and guides me back towards the elevators.
I smiled up at him amused, before halting in my steps when I heard my name called.
I look to the culprit, spotting Mathew with raised brows. “I assume you found plans?” The man asked and I feigned a frown.
“I did, I’m sorry maybe next time,” I tilt my head sympathetically, the way one might pity an animal. My boyfriend’s hands snake around my waist protectively and I nearly roll my eyes at his theatrics.
“Maybe,” Azriel restates, emphasizing the low chance of it.
“Right, next time,” Mathew nods, and the male behind me tugs at my waist, urging me along.
“Have a good rest of your day, Mat.” I give him a small wave.
“You too,” He nods and I pivot on my heel, Azriel glaring daggers at anyone who stared for a moment too long.
Once we were back in the elevator, alone, he dropped the menacing act in favor of his original clingy one. “So are you going to tell me what you blackmailed Rhys with?” I tease and his brows raise.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous, but there are some things I can’t speak of, even to you,” He sighs and I giggle, knowing it must be bad if he didn’t have it in himself to tell me. I dropped it, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get it out of him if I tried.
The doors opened and we both exited. “I need to sign out,” I say to Mrs. Levvy, approaching her desk. She waves her hand dismissively.
“I already did, dearie,” She says and my brows raise, looking to Azriel who only had a cocky smile on his face.
“Then have a good rest of your day I suppose,” I say, backing away towards the doors.
“You have fun you two,” She waves and I return it before Azriel has me outside.
When we get back to his bike he opens the hatch at the front, the compartment holding my helmet. He hands me the light pink item and I smile, putting the helmet over my head and securing it tightly, flicking down the visor.
“You’re so cute,” He admires.
“Shut up,” I say, my words muffled through the helmet and mount the bike.
“You’re not driving,” He looks at me pointedly and I grasp the handles, looking up at him cheekily.
“Why not?” I arch my back playfully and his eyes trace down the crescent shape of my body, then back to my covered eyes.
“No,” He declares before grabbing my waist and taking me off the bike, placing me back onto my feet as I pout up at him. He straddles the bike and puts his helmet on. I huff and get on behind him, my arms wrapping around his torso reflexively. “Ready, gorgeous?” He turns his head to look back at me.
I nod, pressing the side of my helmet to his back, squeezing around him tightly, beyond excited to be going home for the rest of the day instead of heading back to work.
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smusherina · 2 days
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bridges burnt - chapter 1 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.
additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)
very necessary note: Okay, fuck, it was supposed to be a one shot. Then I got excited. So have another freakin' Regina George series. Set in the same universe as yard work! Reading that provides some essential context, but you do you! I don't think it's unreadable without it.
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You adjusted your tie for perhaps the millionth time. It was a silky blue, befitting your navy suit. You fiddled with your cufflinks, silver like all your accessories, then pulled out the baby blue handkerchief to wipe down your glasses, then folded it pack into your pocket, then bent to redo your laces, then-
"For fuck's sake, the ceremony hasn't even started yet!" Amanda nudged you violently.
"Ow!" You hissed, elbowing her back. She slapped your knee, hard.
"Get yourself together." She glowered, pointing a manicured finger at your nose. "It's worse enough I have to be here at all. You're not gonna ruin this for me."
"You're here for the open bar and free food. I paid for the flights, the room, the car." You bit back. "I'm allowed to be nervous."
"There's nervous, then there's this." Amanda looked you up and down pointedly, noting your bouncing knee.
You squeezed at said knee, trying to calm down. Like you'd been trying to do since hours ago. No results so far.
"Look, buddy, it's just a wedding. You don't even really know her. I get you... Have a history with the bride, or whatever, but it's gonna be so fine."
"It's not Gretchen I'm worried about." You mumbled.
"Whoever. It's gonna be fine." Amanda said, flippant as ever. How she was so carefree all the time was mind-boggling to you.
"This place is filled with people from high school. God." You looked around. "That guy over there, don't look, with the receding hairline- I said don't look!"
"Be more specific, every man here has a receding hairline. The demographic is excruciatingly pallid."
"Shut up, girl," You shook your head but couldn't help but laugh. It was mostly white people here. "The one with the wife that looks exactly like him, unbelievably blonde, kinda mousy," You waited for her eyes to latch onto the man you were talking about. "He used to buy weed from me, like, every week, and then went around spreading rumours about me."
"Ungrateful." Amanda scoffed. "And look at him, a wife, child, and probably a 401k. That's how it goes for boys like them."
"Yeah." You sighed. "How's the salon doing, by the way?"
"Thriving. Thanks to you. But I worked my ass off." You lifted your arms in surrender. She had worked hard to keep the place afloat for as long as she had, so even if you hadn't invested she would've found a way.
Amanda cast you a meaningful look. "You're doing better than ever, aren't you? Financially speaking. How's everything else?"
"Well, y'know..." You shrugged. "It's complicated." You looked down. Amanda patted your knee, a sympathetic smile on her face.
"You got a nice suit, though." She pointed out.
"Oh, for sure. Look at these, custom cufflinks." You showed off the silver bits. "Do you think these rings are too much?"
"Don't you usually have an ungodly amount of them on?"
"I usually just have these three." On your right pinky was your Engineer's Ring. On your left thumb was an embroidered steel band and on the pointer of that same hand a ring with a big emerald embedded in a bed of crystals.
"It's not too much." Amanda took your hand and inspected the rings. "More like sexy." She grinned at you, all sorts of innuendo right on display.
You scoffed and turned towards the altar. The pews were getting fuller by the minute. You were sitting far enough from the front to show you weren't important but not too far as to hint you didn't want to be there. You were on the bride's side, though it didn't matter much. You didn't know Gretchen any better than her husband-to-be.
Amanda had come with you for moral support. You'd been roommates in college and you hadn't been able to shake her off since. She'd grown on you, though you often acted more begrudged than you felt. She'd helped you out a lot over the years.
She'd been there when you couldn't leave the dorms, trapped in the vicious clutches of paranoia. She'd been there helping you get back on your feet when dad's businesses started going, one by one, each more explosive than the last. She was there when you moved back to that little town in Illinois, where Northshore still stood.
You liked to think you'd been equally as integral to her, but that was perhaps a reach. She was fiercely independent, resourceful, and charming enough to make friends with anyone. When the first chance to help her came, you didn't hesitate to take it. She'd opened up her salon right after graduation, staying in New York while you moved back home, and had been doing well until now. Unexpected costs and a wicked plumbing bill had landed her in some hot water.
For the small price of one favour and eternal bragging rights, you'd shoved your newly acquired wealth at her. Dragging her to Vermont in October to attend Gretchen's wedding was you cashing in on that favour.
Eventually, the proceedings began. The groom and his men walked in with little fanfare, mild music playing as they went. Most faces you did not recognize, but there was one back of the head that seemed eerily familiar.
The groom, a classically handsome man, a boring prince type, went to stand at the altar. He had an expectant glimmer in his eye. At least Gretchen's taste in men had improved. Then again, anything beat the scrubs she'd used to keep around.
Behind the groom, his line of groomsmen settled, the best man fronting the crowd. The man of the hour was in a classic black tux while the others flanking him were dressed in different shades of brown. The whole shebang was sort of beige with a little bit of burnt orange thrown in. Amidst the shades of umber, russet, and sepia, stood a familiar face.
Aaron Samuels. You didn't have much time to agonize about him being here before the bridesmaids were stepping through the aisle. Similar dresses but in lighter shades, clearly made to match a certain groomsman. You didn't recognize any of them.
The maid of honour was a little odd. Her makeup seemed to be a lot thicker on one side, like there were several layers of foundation caked on. Her eye makeup on that side was a little heavy also, but she was past you by the time you could wonder why.
"The maid of honour totally has a black eye," Amanda whispered to you.
"No way," You hissed back, trying to get an angle where you could see her face. As she settled in place, facing the pews, even moderately far away you could see that, yeah, she totally was covering up a black eye. Wild bachelorette party, then.
Coos and aws resounded through the church as the flower girl and the ring bearer came toddling down. A little girl, cheeks all red, and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else, and a slightly older boy with an almost manic look in his eye. The girl was in no mood to be tossing petals, so the boy reached into her basket and threw a big fistful of them in the air. The rings rolled off of their pillow but found their way back.
"Oops," The boy said, smiling sheepishly right as the photographer came in to capture the moment. Chuckles echoed through the space.
By the time they reached the end of the aisle, the little girl was dutifully carrying the pillow on which the rings were and the boy was joyously tossing flower petals everywhere. As god intended.
Then came the bride. Escorted by her father, who was beaming with a mouth full of veneers, Gretchen Wieners made her appearance.
It wasn't disappointment that you felt. Not relief, either. It was hard to describe. You'd been expecting anger or some catharsis. This was the person who'd outed you to your whole school, who'd been the catalyst to the worst year of your life, why didn't you feel more?
High school had been over for almost ten years. You carried scars, deep ones that still ached on bad days but at the end of the day, they were just scars. You were doing better than ever. Gretchen had been a bully, had brought you to ruin once upon a time, but who was to say it couldn't all be built again?
You smiled. She looked beautiful. A white dress, a long veil, hair done big, bigger and more grandiose than you'd ever seen, and looking like, well, a bride.
You'd moved on. Considering how she'd invited you too, and knowing Gretchen she was acutely aware of every person in attendance, she had moved on too. You could recognize an olive branch when one was given to you.
That didn't explain the invitation, though. Maybe it was a mistake. Gretchen wasn't known for making those, but she was human too. Right?
"Look, they're totally enthralled by each other. You're gonna be fine." Amanda whispered, ignoring the elderly lady seated next to her shooting daggers through her eyes at you two.
"Yeah. It's gonna be fine."
Notes: Got really ill at the beginning of this week, which delayed this chapter quite a bit. You don't realize quite how awesome breathing is until you can't do it properly. Getting better slowly, it's nothing serious, but the cough is lingering. It is what it is.
This chapter was mostly setting up the narrative, no Reggie and Jorts interactions as of yet. I'm not making any promises because I'm so shit at keeping them, but hoping that this series will be shorter than the original one.
Taglist posted seperately!
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aemvnd · 10 hours
Note
I NEED a smut fic with Bambi!reader and Rafe ☹️ literally anything will do your writing always eats
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ bambi baby.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ hihihi babies. !!!!!!!!!! 🥺♡ྀི i missed y'all sm. here's this lil' thing that's been on my mind all night… it's set in the rafe 𝓍 bambi!reader au i'm makin'… but u don't gotta read the others to understand this at all-- this is jus' a lil' bit of smut. 🫶🏼
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"ah-ah, hey!" rafe scolded you, slapping your freshly manicured, dainty little fingers away from touching your slippery, puffy pink folds, oozing more and more of your slick as the seconds passed, with your boyfriend having you seated in between his manspread legs, your back pressed back against his hard, bare, muscular chest, completely naked.
"you don't get to touch this," rafe tuts warningly, making you instantly pout cutely, glossy lips all pink and kiss-swollen from rafe's sloppy, abusive kisses just minutes ago.
snapping out of your hazy, dreamlike thoughts, you squeal girlishly, all high pitched and sweet, as rafe completely cups your weepy, sweet little cunny.
"this? this right here?" he asks tauntingly, with two little slaps against your drooling cunt, making his big hand all wet and causing you to mewl softly, trying to squeeze your smooth, plush thighs together, but rafe stops you, glaring down at you with clear disapproval, a threat in his steel-blue eyes, making you press back further more into him, shrinking against him, seeking his bigger size to feel safe and secured, even if he was the one abusing your little cunt right now-- you didn't mind, and neither did rafe.
"it's mine," he purrs into your ear with a soft, low baritone voice, his tone was teasing, though his voice was still a deep, lazy drawl, cupping your bare cunt with his large dominant hand, his face buried into the cook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, overwhelmingly addicting scent, before he begins kissing and licking and sucking another claiming lovemark on the delicate, sensitive skin of your little, easily breakable, sweet-smelling neck.
"all. fuckin'. mine," he coos menacingly, causing your insides to melt and butterflies to swarm in your belly-- you couldn't help it, you were so in love with rafe, and his possessiveness over you always made your brain turn into mush, even when he wasn't playing with your little cunt.
"you understand that, bambi baby?" he questions mockingly, keeping his voice hushed, yet he still kept that deep, lazy, baritone drawl to his voice, making your little clit throb and twitch with need, which rafe notices of course, because he always does-- swiftly, skillfully, he gently pinches your little nub, only to start rubbing two pads of his calloused fingertips against it, causing you to whimper softly and squirm for a moment, before you begin to gently hump your boyfriend's deft fingertips that were currently massaging your 'pretty princess cunt', as rafe likes to call it.
you nod eagerly, maybe a bit too eagerly, but again, you don't care-- always so sweet and innocently naïve for your boyfriend, just the way he likes you, all shy and sweet and codependent on him, looking up at him with your thick, fluffy black lashes, all doe-eyed and precious for him, a bit weepy too, just like your sweet little pussy, rafe notices.
and rafe is already aware, as usual, that you need a good, long, hard fucking, and that's exactly what he's gonna give to you-- after all, you're his girl, his future wife and the mother to his children, he'd never deny his precious bambi anything, especially a good fuck.
rafe smirks as he watches you nod obediently, the anger in his brow smoothing out and his soft lips curling up into a small, lazy smirk, "good girl, baby," he praises sweetly, giving the side of your head a long kiss, before easily slipping the two fingers he was using to massage your clit to now slide them inside of your needy cunt, feeling the way your wet, velvety walls flutter and quiver when he wiggles them around inside of you for a few seconds, hearing the way you gasp and moan so prettily for him.
"oh, daddy!" you cry out, your little, freshly painted pink toes curling from the sudden shift in pleasure, thighs shaking and belly clenching with your need for delicious release. "oohhh, f-feels so... so good i-inside of me," you mewl deliriously, moaning breathily and heart pounding, your bare breasts heaving as you suddenly feel rafe curl his long, talented fingers inside of you, insistently rubbing that place that makes you orgasm in seconds and wail like a newborn baby.
"D-DADDY!" you sob breathlessly, your shaky hands now going to reach and squeeze his clothed thighs, digging your long, gorgeous nails (which rafe of course paid for) into the gray sweatpants that he was currently only wearing, making you even more horny and desperate for him.
rafe chuckles breathlessly at how needy you're for him tonight, but he doesn't mind, he never does-- and with a light, sinister laugh from him, one that promises that you're going to have a very, very long night ahead of you, your boyfriend speeds up the pace of his fingers that were fucking into you almost violently, until you're dripping all over his hand, just the way rafe cameron likes you to be.
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ghostofhyuck · 1 day
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NCT Dream reacts to your manicure!
Mark Lee
Thinks that it's interesting how you change your nails from time to time. It'll be short manicures then the next time you see him, your nails will be long with cute designs. He just thinks its interesting that you change your nails from time to time, probably paid for your nails at some point too!
Huang Renjun
Renjun would be the type of boyfriend who's obsessed with your manicures, especially when they're detailed ones! He'll just stare at it for a long time and would even tap on the charms glued there. He probably suggested one time what theme you should try and when you show it to him, he was astonished because they were able to visualize what he wants. <3
Lee Jeno
I feel like Jeno likes it when you have manicures. I think he leans on more on the simple, colored manicures rather than the long and detailed ones. He does thinks it looks cool but I feel like at some point you accidentally scratched him that's why he's a bit intimidated by it. But nonetheless, he still loves holding your hands. (He just becomes more careful.)
Lee Donghyuck
Haechan doesn't have any preferences when it comes to your nails. Whether you have it manicured or not, he doesn't care as long as he gets to hold your hands. But if he's bored and decided to play with your fingers, he'll stare at your nails and just observed the design. I feel like he'll be the type who'll be surprised that you changed your nails after a month. 
Na Jaemin
He loves it! Would accompany you at the nail salon and just sit there and watch the process of your manicure. Would even gossip with your nail technician too! You sometimes let him choose a design for your nails but it always end up him just choosing a basic color like red or pink. Can't be trusted with the nail colors but if he found a cute nail design on pinterest, he would send it to you as your next nail set!
Zhong Chenle
Of course Chenle would pay for your nails! He doesn't care if you do it monthly, he thinks that it's for you to pamper yourself and you deserve it! He sometimes would be the one to bring you to the salon so that you can do your monthly manicure and he'll just way there like a patient boyfriend he is until your done. He got to make sure his money is worth it too!
Park Jisung
He thinks that it's interesting that you change your nails every month, so he would anticipate on what your next design would be. It wouldn't be until two or three weeks, he'll ask you when will you change your nails. You'll only laugh at him but you'll answer that you'll do it when you have a spare time. Sometimes you choose cute designs like sanrio characters and Jisung will be in AWE at how your nails are. 
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cute-sucker · 2 days
Note
Hi! I wanna request a story of like kook reader having a crush on Rafe and her friends always warns her about his behaviors but she doesn’t care at all and continues to admire him and he definitely notices it but he’s so nonchalant and cold about it😭😭
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rafe cameron was your world. 
if it was up to you, the sun set on him, and the moon awakened when his face came into view. it was cheesy you knew, after all, you had been his neighbour forever, but you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to his behaviour. when either it was his looks or the cocky smile that he had. whatever it was, it was not okay. 
well, you didn't see a problem with it. it was just a crush. just something to smile about sometimes, or think about. that's what you had promised some of your friends. but sometimes your friend mindy would tap your shoulder as she mouthed a soft "no," "no." 
at a certain point, you had become wheezie's babysitter in hopes of getting closer to rafe. it was pathetic you knew, but wheezie was such a sweet girl that you loved it even more. days at tanyhill were filled with finger paintings and fairy tales. sometimes you would go all out and let wheezie cook, although that did entail both of you getting completely covered in flour. and that was how you met him. formally. 
you had been smiling up at wheezie, as she told you the gingerbread cookies looked more crooked than usual. you had batted it off telling her that the two of you just had different styles. still you were covered in flour as rafe walked in. while you did have a small crush on him, you tried to ignore him as much as possible. if he was in a room, you walked out choking, blushing so hard. you were just so shy, you could barely say a word. 
yet here you were on the floor as you giggled with wheezie. the two of you were tired. until a voice rang out. 
"what the hell is going on? the place is a mess. shit." 
you felt your heart race as you got up, while wheezie continued to roll on the floor telling you how this perspective of the world was wicked. finally, rafe came into view, eyes squinted as his eyebrows were furrowed. "who the hell are you?" 
wheezie rolled her eyes, "oh my god, rafe can you be more embarrassing. she's my babysitter?" his expression stayed confused before he shrugged it off walking to the fridge, wheezie scoffed, "damn rafe do you even pay attention-" 
"hey!" he snapped, swinging the fridge open to take out a carton of milk, a warning finger in the air, "don't swear." 
at this wheezie scoffed, putting her hands on her hips, "you do it all the time, i don't know why i can't-"
"wheezie, i'm older than you," he interjected, and then he held the milk carton up to his lips. wheezie winced, making a disgusted face, as she pushed him away from the fridge. rafe stumbled away a satisfied grin on his face, ruffling wheezie's hair.  
"ugh, boys you know," wheezie huffed, closing the fridge door with a bang.  
finally wheezie looked up at you, almost as if she was realising you had said nothing and arched an eyebrow at your expression, placing a comforting pink manicured hand on your shoulder. it was humorous how the 13 year old was trying to make you feel better. her nails were still a shocking neon pink with sparkles. 
"don't feel too bad. rafe is weird." the two of you left it at that before going back to making cookies. 
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉
"and then he came in, like all khakis, and that hot polo shirt," you giggled into your phone, kicking your feet. your friend mindy made a hurrupted sound on the phone, "i met him, like actually met him. why aren't you as excited about this?" 
suddenly the phone went silent, and you could hear her soft breathing, "i dunno, i mean lets think about this rationally," she sighed out, and you groaned, turning over in bed. this meant that hard truths were going to be told. 
"-okay i know you hate this, but you've babysitting for the camerons for what, two years?" 
"three years," you corrected, before realising your error. 
"yeah, three years and he hasn't noticed you at all? hasn't thought to ask, 'hey who's that rando girl staying in our home dad?' at all? they invited you to the midsommers, and to all of their parties. and he doesn't know you?" 
you winced at that, before you pouted turning back on your back, "listen, i know it sounds bad, but i don't know. it'll happen."  
you didn't think about it too hard, but there was a noticeable shift. you were putting a lot of care into changing into a cute dress, or painting your nails with extra care, or making sure you asked wheezie where he was. you didn't think it was obvious, but one time wheezie brought it up. 
"do you have a crush on rafe?" she asked, stuffing her face with the burger you had made her. 
you were taking a gulp out of your lemonade and almost spat it out, "wheezie! don't ask me things like that." 
she blinked at you innocently, "i don't know what you're talking about. it's a valid question," and then she pouted, "i thought you'd tell me everything about yourself." 
"well, no, i don't have a c-crush on your brother," you sputtered out, glaring at wheezie who gave you a sly grin. she quickly let go of the conversation, and the two of you were arguing over jenga and who had won. 
quickly enough the days passed at the tanyhill, you had settled down into the belief that rafe would not notice you. who cared? you had a nice job, wheezie was a sweetheart and mr. cameron loved having you around. it was perfect all of it, until rafe approached it. 
it was for a frat part you could tell. with his backward cap on, a fitted tee, he looked like a dream. the babysitting shift was over, and you were slowly walking outside only to see rafe revving up his motorcycle. 
you found yourself flushing at the whole scene and murmured out a soft 'bye.' as usual, you were ignored, or maybe you were too quiet, goddamn it you were so stupid-
"hey!" 
you turned around to see rafe cupping his face to yell at you. he had pulled off his helmet to talk to you. 
"hey," you stuttered out, grasping at your tote bag. you looked like a total grandma, with your cardigan, and written-on sneakers, "what's up?" 
"just heading off to a party, and uh," he scratched his head, squinting his eyes before tearing his eyes off his motorcycle to look back at you, "wanna come? it's at like nine." 
"sure! of course. yeah, sure," you blurted out, flushing even more. he regarded you again, a well-natured smile flittering across his face. 
"yea, i'll see you then." 
so there it was. an invitation. rafe cameron had invited you to a party. 
maybe this was a start of something.
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scorpioriesling · 1 day
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Dangerous Woman
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mdni
Summary: You've known the High Lord's oldest son for years, but he has never seemed to take much of an interest in you. Did he think you were perhaps too... simple? Boring? Safe? It all comes to a head when you finally reveal how dangerous you can really be.
SR’s Note: THIS IS FILTHY HAHAHA IM SORRY. I have boarded the Eris train and haven't even THOUGHT about getting off yet -- I really hope you guys like this eeeeeek
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
“Did you bring an extra pair of tights?”
“Always - top zipper. I think they’re a medium,”
“Ugh. You’re literally a lifesaver.”
*sigh* “Aren’t I?”
Your friend Amalia playfully winks at you, taking the extra pair of pantyhose from your overnight bag. You glance at her legs, eyes catching on the long rip down the side of her caramel colored tights she currently dons. Returning your gaze to the mirror you’re seated before, you continue to work on the black winged liner you were previously applying, tuning out the hustle and bustle around you. After a few moments of pinning down flyaways, powdering your nose once more, and practicing kissy faces in the mirror to yourself, you finally decide you’re ready.
You take a swig from the water canteen on your vanity, rolling your neck and swinging your ponytail in the process. Amalia catches your eye through the mirror from behind you, stalking closer with another girl wearing nothing but a tiny shimmering bralette and skirt set.
“You look hot, Y/N!” She squeals, flipping your ponytail and you beam at her, turning in your chair to meet her eyes. You might be “hot”, but Amalia… Amalia was beautiful. Her body curved in all the right places, and she knew how to move to draw the eye to each and every one. Not to mention her full lips, only matching the captivity of her almond shaped, chocolatey brown eyes that seemed to complement her rich skin tone in the best way. If you didn’t have such a life long… thing?… for the High Lord’s kid, you might even be attracted to her yourself.
“Ohhh, don’t flatter me too much Mal,” you say sweetly. She rolls her eyes, and stretches a hand to you. You take it, standing to your full height and smoothing the short black skirt down your upper thigh. The leather matched the knee high black leather boots you chose for tonight - and, of course, the miniature, rather revealing bikini top you sported as well. Amalia’s whoops and whistles, twirling you around and you make a show of sticking out your butt and pursing your lips, which leaves you both in a fit of laughter at your show.
“C’monnn,” she says, taking your freshly manicured hand in hers once more and guiding you toward the door. “I heard there are quite a few High Fae in attendance tonight.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder to you, and you stop dead in your tracks. Her blonde friend who’d been following close behind nearly bumps into your shoulder.
“Woah woah woah,” you say, black nails a blur as your hands wave in front of you. “High fae? Like… from this court?” You ask. Amalia allows a devilish grin to spread over her face.
“You heard me. Like… royal family, High Fae.” She responds, crossing her lithe arms over her chest. Your face immediately begins to heat.
“Ooh why? Is there someone you’re hoping to see?” Amalia’s bubbly blonde friend asks. The sequins on her bralette flutter as she practically bounces in excitement. You chew on an acrylic nervously.
“Only the High Lord’s oldest son,” Amalia starts, and you roll your eyes, feigning indifference. The blonde’s eyes widen in interest as she looks between the two of you, practically begging for more details. “Y/N has been in looove with him since she was a mere child-“
“Oh Amalia, you and your silly stories.” You huff, but the blonde claps her hands together, a wide smile taking over her face.
“Oh my gosh!! Really!” She is bouncing up and down now, and you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips as Amalia chuckles in amusement.
“Oh yeah, really. But, outside of this place, Y/N doesn’t actually speak to the guy,” Amalia clips, frowning at you. You return the sentiment. “I just don’t understand— you are such a good performer in here, why not show him any of that outside of Markov’s?” She asks.
“Uh, because I want him to like me for me? Not because I, ya know, sometimes hang out in a brothel?” You say, hands gesturing with each word. The blonde shakes her head.
“Wait a second. You actually know him? Like, in real life?” She asks. You nod, her crystalline blue eyes widening with the realization.
“She’s his family’s personal record keeper,” Amalia cuts in. “And, she literally grew up with the dude. Same school, same social circles, yada yada yada…” she says, waving a hand. The blonde takes your hand in hers affectionately, staring at you wide eyed.
“But, what will you do when he recognizes you if he comes here?” She asks. You open your mouth to answer, but stop as Amalia pulls something from her own bag beside the dressing room door.
“He usually isn’t seen in here,” she says, handing a black shiny … something? to you. “But, if he does, he won’t know. Because she has this to conceal her identity.” You arch a brow, unfolding the item placed in your hands.
“I mean, it even goes with your outfit. How could you refuse?”
゚: *✧・゚:*
“Any luck?”
“Nope,” you say, tugging on the bottom of your black bunny mask with a defeated sigh. On a night like this, usually you’d have already found someone in search of your services, but… you couldn’t help but turn down just about every one with the High Fae rumor going around. You so desperately wanted to see Eris — or did you? Would it really be a good thing if he was hanging out in a brothel? You weren’t sure.
The fact of the matter was, Amalia was right — you’d been pining over this man for fucking centuries, and he never really seemed to spare you a second glance. You tried everything; being kind, being friendly, being honest. You’d opened up to him over time even, but no matter what he was just always that much more distant from you — like whatever step you’d take toward him, he’d take one backward. It hadn’t been until the last time you’d talked to him that you decided to try something different, to see if this new approach would get any rise out of him.
Was lying wrong? Yeah. Was it a punishable offense? Depends. Was saying you had a boyfriend to get a reaction out of him grounds for jail time? Absolutely not.
And ya know what? It didn’t even seem like he cared that much anyways.
“Listen babe, I’ve been keeping you company all night, but,” Amalia glances over her shoulder at a muscley brunette man eyeing her from a couch across the room. “…I’ve got a line of my own forming. Think you can manage on your own?”
Before you can respond, your new bubbly acquaintance from earlier beelines toward you two, out of breath when she finally makes it to you.
“I…. I think I found… your…” your head tilts as you try and make out what she’s saying between breaths, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Who?” Amalia asks in a hushed whisper. The blonde only turns, and both of your eyes follow her line of sight to the unmistakable head of auburn locks, standing and socializing in the room across the hall. Your breath catches in your throat; there’s no way he’s here.
“Ohhh… oh babes you know what you need to be doin’.” Amalia chuckles, and you glance at her, cheeks reddening.
“Now is not the time to be shy girl! And besides, you have on a damn mask, Cauldron’s sake; he won’t even know it’s you. Now go! Play up the “sexy” before someone else tries to snatch him away.” She shooes you on, and your feet spring into action. The heels of your boots tap tap tap across the wood floor, many gazes turning to you as you saunter toward the bar he’s standing in front of.
Play up the sexy, you remind yourself. He doesn’t even know you’re… you under here.
You approach the bar, leaning against it as the bartender walks up to you. The coolness of the steel eases the burning of your skin a little, and offers some stability in your nervous state.
“The usual,” you say with a wink, faking confidence. It works as Grevin, the usual bartender smiles, and begins on your Malibu with pineapple juice, *extra strong*, just how you like it. You feel your skirt riding up a bit as you lean further over the lip of the bar, exposing the backs of your upper thighs and you can feel his stare finally on you.
Perfect. Right where you want him. It’s not long before you hear his signature scoff next to you, as he leans on an elbow mere inches from where you stand.
“My my,” he begins, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “What do we have here?” You slowly turn your gaze to meet his, and watch as his amber eyes drink you in fully, roaming from the very tips of your rabbit eared mask down to the toes of your leather boots. You gulp. Play up the sexy.
“You like what you see?” You ask teasingly, crossing one ankle over the other and folding your arms under your chest. Eris smirks, only inching closer to you and dragging his tongue over his lower lip as his eyes continue to feast on your exposed skin. Gods he’s so impossibly gorgeous-
“I do,” he says casually. He extends a soft hand, and you place yours in his. You feel like lightning ripples through you from his touch, and you want to relish in this most simplistic moment. “Eris.” He says.
Shit. Uhh… you didn’t think this far. He’s gazing at you like he’s expecting some kind of answer, and you try to quickly come up with a good fake name, but thankfully don’t have to — Grevin approaches and sets your drink down in front of you. You accept it, throwing it back and downing the whole thing.
“Impressive,” Eris drawls. When you finish, he pulls you closer, so close you can smell his familiar cinnamon and cedar scent. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in Markov’s?” In seconds, he’s given a glass of his own amber liquid. He swallows half of it, eyes returning to yours for an answer.
“I uh, I work here.” Another lie. You only came as Amalia’s guest sometimes to make extra cash, and in hopes maybe you’d see him here, finally getting some kind of fucked up chance to be with him.
He raises his brows, nodding slowly, and drains his glass. He catches Grevin’s eye, nodding when the bartender asks if you’d both like another round. Slowly, his fingertips have moved to dance along the edge of your leather skirt, his skin only skimming the tops of your thighs and you suck in a breath. He grins devilishly down at you, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts spilling from your top. He suddenly leans in close, his breath warm against your neck, sending chills across your skin as he whispers darkly in your ear.
“Be careful, don’t you know how easily leather can…” his free hand twirls in a swift motion, a small flame eliciting in the process.
“…burn?” He chuckles. He pulls back to peer down at you again, and you roll your shoulders back, drawing your pointer finger to drag downward from his top lip to his chin. You barely notice the — not one round, but two extra rounds — of drinks Grevin has set before each of you as you take in Eris’ feral gaze.
The fire in his eyes only seems to ignite as you lean in, your cherry scent familiarly intoxicating as you reply lowly; “maybe I enjoy being a little dangerous.”
゚: *✧・゚:*
“I never really come to these types of places,” Eris says breathlessly, his hand grasping yours as you lead him drunkenly toward a room you know would be open for the evening. He let you lead the way after a few more rounds and some small talk at the bar, not complaining about the view from behind as he followed you up the stairs and down the dark hallway.
“Don’t worryyy,” you slur. He chuckles behind you, and you arrive at door #17. This one is reserved for you, rarely used, but yours nonetheless. You fumble to unlock and open it, Eris’ warm hands tracing up and down your sides as you fiddle with the door. Once inside, you opt to keep the lights off, allowing the moonlight from the open window to illuminate the room enough to your liking.
You close the door behind you, and no sooner than it clicks shut, his hands are pushing you against the back of it. The leather of your outfit squeaks in protest against the wood of the door and Eris’ body now holding you against it, his dark chuckle sounding in your ear. It was enough to release a bit more of the wetness already drenching the small cloth offered by your thong.
“Somehow, even after the… three? Four? Drinks we had,” his hands snake beneath the back of your skirt, shoving it up over the curve of your butt and palming your ass. You let out a soft groan — you’d only ever dreamed of this before, even if you could only half see his face in the moonlight. “…I never caught your name, gorgeous.”
Your cheeks redden, and you take the opportunity of his lips being so close to yours to crash them together instead of answering. His fingers squeeze your ass and you yelp, your soft cry muffled by his warm lips on yours. You yank open his shirt, the buttons easily coming undone and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. One of his hands moves to cup your face, thumb running across your jawline lovingly before he pulls away to meet your stare once more.
“Fine then, don’t tell me little rabbit,” he says, eyes wandering from your lips up to the leather rabbit mask you bore. “You’ll just have to be my little bunny to play with tonight.”
With that, his mouth was attacking yours again, lips in a tango with yours and tongue swiping along the edge of your mouth. You open, allowing him access and deepening the kiss as you both battle for dominance. You’re just content to explore so deep into a cavern so delicious — one you’d never thought you’d taste, not in any of the centuries you’d lived. His hands are all over you, first moving to knead your breasts harshly, relishing in the soft moans he draws from you in the process. Once he’s had enough teasing, he pulls you flush against him by your waist, his hard length pushing into the softness of your stomach. The feel of his long member only increases the ache between your thighs.
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” he says, pulling away breathlessly, eyes darkly boring into yours. In a moment of courageousness, you shove him backward, a feline grin on your face as he falls back onto to his elbows on the bed behind him. He smirks as you crawl on top of him, working to undo his corduroy confines, slipping them past the protruding tent near his navel and discarding them haphazardly to the floor. He helps by kicking off his undergarments and you can’t help but stare at his toned abdomen, his impressive length springing free with the absence of the confines.
Positioning yourself on your knees between his legs, you seductively lick a stripe up his shaft, and his chest begins to rise and fall unevenly. Your gaze meets his and you lick over the leaking tip of his cock, gripping half of his shaft in your fist and giving a few slow, tantalizing strokes. Your tongue continues to work around the exposed area, swirling around and teasing his length where a rather fat vein protrudes. He chews on his lower lip between his teeth, and you finally descend on his length, taking every inch you can down your throat while maintaining eye contact.
“Uh… ohhh my…” he utters, as you begin bobbing your head on his shaft slowly. Your hand pumps what can’t fit in your mouth, and one of his hands instinctively reach for the back of your head, softly pushing down with the rhythm of your motions around his cock.
“Fuck… oh fuck baby…” he softly pants, head rolling back as his hand pushes down on your head faster, harder. Tears begin pricking your eyes as his large member hits the back of your throat, and you try your best to hollow your cheeks and suck in as much as you can.
He continues to whimper and groan before you, and through your blurred vision, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Sure, he may find you boring and uninteresting and anything else when you’re sitting in your office in his father’s palace. But now? He’s literally whimpering before you.
He’s pushed to an almost impossible depth and you choke a bit, his hips beginning to thrust up slightly to fuck himself into your sloppy mouth. Muffled groans emit from you as he thrusts in a few times, until you feel his dick slightly twitch in your mouth.
“Ohh fuck-“ he pulls his dick out of you in an instant, his hand moving to caress your jaw and tilt your head up to look at him. His wet length slaps against his stomach as trail of saliva drips down your chin, collecting near the valley of your breasts, and his eyes track it all the way. His thumb traces over your swollen bottom lip as he inhales sharply.
“Fuck sweetheart, I don’t want to cum just yet,” he says, removing his hand to slowly stroke himself once more. You take the moment to slide your skirt and thong down your thighs, discarding them to the ground. Eris watches intently as you continue to strip, left in only your tight little bra and him in his unbuttoned button-down. Kicking off your boots, you begin to seductively crawl atop Eris once more, and his fingers graze over your hips and round your ass once more before finding purchase on your hipbones. He grips tight and flips you, eliciting a soft squeak from you in the process. Now fully atop you, you can’t help the delight in letting him do as he wishes and be in control over you.
“Let me do this how I want?” he asks, eyes gazing at you in question. You lean up off the bed, biting his lower lip softly before releasing it and staring innocently back into his eyes.
“Use me however you want.”
Your words snap a chord of restraint in Eris, as he tosses your legs over his shoulders then, running his cock up and down your folds to collect your dripping wetness.
“Gods, so wet for me already…” he drawls, aligning his length with your needy entrance. Then, without warning, he grips your waist hard and slams into you, eliciting a sharp cry from you in response. He grunts at the tight squeeze, relishing in the way you clench around him.
“FUCK!” You shout, and he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in once more, a low growl reverberating in his throat.
“GODS, Eris-“ you gasp. He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, quickening his thrusts — only pulling out halfway but still slamming into you all the same. Your small moans of pleasure seem to egg him on, pants and grunts occasionally emitting from him all the same. His eyes stay trained on you; your boobs bouncing beneath the confines of your bra, your mouth agape as you scream in pleasure for him, down to the slick spreading across his dick as it slides so easily in and out of you. You’re a vision; one he’d only dream of. One so similar to the dreams he has over and over, night after night.
“Fuck… oh, fuck this pussy feels so fucking good baby,” he grunts out, and you continue to allow your moans of pleasure free fall from your lips. Your nails rake over his muscles back, surely leaving scratch marks as he drives into you. One of his hands detaches from your hip, threading his fingers through yours and holding it to the mattress above your head. You tangle your other hand in his incredibly soft locks, illuminated by the rising moon outside. The heat in your stomach continues to build, the coil winding tighter with each snap of his hips into yours.
“Eris I’m… I’m so close-“ you gasp, and he slows only for a moment, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before continuing his thrusts, now slamming into you at an impossibly rapid pace.
“FUCK, ERIS, I’m-“
“Gods YES baby, please Y/N — let me feel you cum baby,” he groans, and with that, the red hot coil in your stomach snaps. You release with a loud moan, pussy clenching around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Within seconds his warmth is filling you from the inside, his soft whimpers filling the room as you both ride out your highs.
After a few quiet moments, he stalls his movements and pulls out of you, and you instantly feel… empty. He takes the spot on the bed beside you, laying on his side and tucking an arm under his head. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your face as he studies you, and after a few moments in silence, he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I, uh, I called you that.” he says, and you slide your eyes to his in confusion. He looks magnificent, even in the dim lighting, and you can’t help but feel a little sad that your night with him is drawing to a close.
“Whatever do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.
“Uh… during.. I accidentally called you something I shouldn’t have.” He says. You continue to just look at him confusedly, and he continues.
“I said Y/N, and I uh, I didn’t mean to.” He explains, retracting his hand from you.
You blanch; when did he call you that? How did you overlook it? How didn’t you catch the sound of him saying your name?
You’re silent for a moment, contemplating the whole situation when he speaks again.
“It’s just,” he lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N is actually this girl, um, she’s someone I know. Well, I know her really well, actually. Known her quite a long time.” He says, and you can’t help the butterflies in your chest. He thinks he’s talking to a stranger, but you’re only hearing the love of your life talk about you.
“Mhm…” you urge. He turns to look at you, and you try to innocently mask the desperation in your eyes as they meet his whiskey colored ones. He props his head up on one of his hands.
“Well, I just got carried away I guess. I’m sorry, I was just… I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I mean, I’m always thinking of her but… lately… I don’t know. It’s nothing you did! I mean you were great and all, I just… I can’t get her out of my head, I suppose.” You can’t help the guilt you feel as he looks away, sadness clouding his eyes as hope fills your heart. You never would’ve guessed he felt a fraction of this, based on how he usually interacts with you.
“So… why come here if you care so much for this girl?” You ask. He huffs a laugh, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling.
“Honestly, I didn’t think she returned my feelings. And, now I know she doesn’t because she told me she belongs to someone else,” he says, and you mentally kick yourself. What the fuck were you thinking telling him that? “You just look a lot like her, and I don’t know, I just got so caught up-“
“Have you told this girl how you feel?” You cut in, pretending to be helpful. He shakes his head, staring at a spot on the ceiling above.
“No… she told me said she has a boyfriend, so. I don’t really think it would matter much anyways.” Your shake your head, and your hand reaches out to lightly take his hand in yours. His turns his head, gaze meeting yours again, and you give him a reassuring smile as warmth only blooms brighter in your chest.
“Eris, I think anyone is crazy not to fall head over heels in love with you,” you say, and he grins. “In my opinion… you need to tell this girl how you feel as soon as you see her next. I’m sure she’d break up with that silly boyfriend of hers if she knew how you felt.”
“You really think that’d do it, huh?” He asks, hopefulness in his tone. You give him a wide, honest smile.
“I really, really do.”
゚: *✧・゚:*
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shadowdaddies · 2 days
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I love your work ❤️ can I request a Ruhn x fem!reader, where ruhn hasnt been a very good boyfriend, like he is working a lot, and has to put off many date, the reader is trying to be understanding. maybe there are supposed to have a date but ruhn is late, he comes into the restaurat and sees that the waiter is talking to the reader and she is laughing. Some angst and ruhn is scared he is going to be single, but a fluffy ending
Try Hard
Ruhn x Reader angst/fluff
A/N: I put a little twist on this, hope that's okay💜
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Smoothing the front of your sleek black dress, you stepped out from your bedroom to the sound of a low whistle. Bryce laid back against the couch cushions, blanket draped over her legs as she looked up from her phone with a knowing smirk.
“You look hot,” she praised, golden eyes flicking down your form - hair down in loose waves, silky fabric of the dress hugging your curves - and winked. “What time is Ruhn supposed to get here?”
The small light in your eyes at her compliment dimmed at the question. “He should have been here twenty minutes ago,” you mumbled, glancing down at your phone to avoid meeting her gaze.
Bryce’s demeanor changed at that, a subtle shift in how she reclined on the sofa. Long, manicured nails flipped her own phone anxiously as her gaze bounced between you and screen of messages. 
“Well, he’s probably dealing with those alphaholes in the Aux, but you know Ruhn’s never late.” Scooting in her legs closer to her body, she patted the cushion next to her. “Come sit with me while you wait. I’m just watching ‘Fangs and Bangs’.” 
Eyes flicking to the couple on the TV, you slumped down on the couch, feeling lower than you ever had. Bryce was wrong - Ruhn had been late, nearly every time you’d seen him over the past several months. That is, when you saw him at all. 
He blew you off more than followed through on dates, and when you were with him, it was as though his mind was elsewhere. Anytime you tried to talk to him beyond shallow conversation, his eyes would dart from yours, opting to stare down at your hands over your face.
You couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes as tumultuous thoughts raced through your head. You loved this male more than you had ever thought possible, yet here he was, like he wasn’t even trying. 
“Hey,” Bryce murmured, voice soft as she set her phone down. A hand came to rest on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles there to coax you to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
Sniffling, you took a deep breath while your hands found the tassels on the pillow next to you very fascinating. “I don’t think Ruhn loves me,” you whispered, the words immediately feeling wrong once they left your lips. 
“Or... It’s not that he doesn’t love me,” you continued. “Maybe just not like I love him, or he doesn’t see a future with me?” Words tumbled from you faster than you could process, pent up emotions from the last several months coming out to Bryce as you told her of Ruhn’s detached behavior.
Her face was pale, crumpled in anguish that matched your own. She took a long moment before responding, “I know he loves you... But I also know I’m not the person you need to hear that from. Why don’t you see what happens tonight? Talk things through with him?”
Amber eyes were soft with understanding as you swallowed thickly, granting her a weak nod before checking your phone once more to find no response from Ruhn. “We’ve probably already missed our reservation,” you mused, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as aggravation overtook you.
“Then go,” Bryce suggested. “They have his card on file, it’ll be charged to the Autumn King if all else fails,” she murmured behind a twisted smile. “You look beautiful, and deserve to have a nice evening regardless of how stupid Ruhn is.”
You looked down at your outfit, the effort you had put into looking and feeling beautiful tonight, and felt resolute as you nodded. Standing up from the couch, you gave Bryce a quick hug and thanks. 
“I’ll go to the restaurant, and I guess if he shows up or not will give me the answer I need.” Your attempt at sounding confident in your decision was weak, voice wavering at the thought of ever giving up on Ruhn, but you followed through nonetheless and hopped into a car to the restaurant.
The shakiness of your legs as you stepped from the car caught you by surprise, leaning on the handle as you willed strength to your muscles and strode inside. After an arduous explanation to the hostess that you were late for your reservation for two, and were in fact, alone, she begrudgingly took you to your table with a firm reminder that the rest of your party had fifteen minutes to show.
With a defeated sigh, you refused to look at your phone before sliding it into your coat pocket which you draped over the back of your chair. Slumped against the soft seat, you couldn’t help but feel clownish in your overdone hair and makeup. Just as embarrassment seemed to sink its claws into you, a polite voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts.
“Welcome in,” the handsome male to your left greeted, eyes sparkling with sincerity. “Could I bring you something to drink?” he asked, and your gaze drifted downward to find a name tag and uniform, toned body veiled thinly beneath.
“You look like you could use a glass of wine - or something stronger - if you don’t mind me saying,” he joked, earning a laugh from you. Stomach tightened, your eyes found his to indeed ask for a large glass of red wine when a familiar figure showed in your peripheral.
Ruhn cleared his throat, drawing your attention from the exchange to where he stood. He was in a finer suit than you had ever seen him, all black and neatly tailored to hug his form. Onyx hair shone in the dark evening lights as those violet eyes focused on you with a fae-like intensity, possessiveness practically tangible.
“We will have a bottle of your finest red. The manager should know our order, in fact. Thank you,” Ruhn greeted the waiter stiffly, waiting until the male left to take his seat across from yours.
“I was worried you wouldn’t show,” you drawled, the effort to keep the scowl from your lips distracting from that to keep the frustration from your tone.
Ruhn’s arched brow only served to infuriate you further, knuckles tightening on the arms of your chair as you dared to look at him. “You sit there silently, staring at me as though you are surprised in my doubt. But the past several months have been a constant cycle of me waiting for you, Ruhn.”
Jaw dropped slightly, purple eyes wide at your words as Ruhn had the nerve to look surprised. A scoff escaped you, gaze flicking to the bright city lights out the windows - bustling streets ignoring the advertisements and light shows that shone across from you. 
“I feel... I feel like those signs, Ruhn.” You gestured out the window. “Sending you messages, pleading for attention while you walk by like the people on the street. Do you notice me and not care, or are you trying to avoid me?”
Silver lined Ruhn’s eyes, tears threatening to spill as he reached into his pockets, hands fidgeting nervously while he thought. “I have never purposefully ignored you,” he breathed, eyes desperate as he looked to you. “To think that I might ever make you feel unseen makes me feel unworth-“
The breath stole from his chest as onyx hair whipped to the windows at your right, eyes wide. Ruhn dove in front of you, arms wide as he attempted to obstruct your view of whatever was happening. The lights changed behind him, catching several glimpses from others at the restaurant as you exasperatedly looked around his outstretched arm to look at what was outside.
‘Will you marry me?’ scrolled along the electronic billboard, bright for everyone to see. You looked down at Ruhn, the face of defeat clear as he let his arms finally drop to cover his face. 
“Ruhn...” you whispered, catching his attention from the self pity in which he was consumed. “Is that...?” 
You couldn’t find the words, merely gesturing to the bright lights outside while you studied your boyfriend’s face. He sighed, glanced over his shoulder with a nod before turning back to you.
“I was late because Dec had some issues getting the message up on the screen. But now it all seems ridiculous. I spent months planning to make tonight special, but all I did was make the love of my life feel like she isn’t special.”
Warm, tanned hands enveloped your own, resting in your lap. “I was too nervous that I might give something away, I did avoid you these past few months. But I would never have done any of this if I thought it would make you feel any less than the incredible female you are.”
You felt your lower lip wobbling, eyes welling with emotion at the realization. It wasn’t for lack of trying - Ruhn was planning for your future this entire time. “Ruhn...” you whispered, voice shaking as you cupped his cheek.
“It feels ridiculous now, to think of something as cheesy as night lights to ask you to spend forever with me, but-“
“YES!” you practically shouted, earning interested glances from other diners. “Ruhn, I would be honored to spend a lifetime with the male who went to such lengths to make me feel special, not only tonight, but since I have known you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
A broad grin stretched upon his face, crooked smile making your knees feel weak for only a moment before Ruhn’s lips crashed to yours. The echoes of those in the restaurant cheering sounded in the back of your mind as he pulled the ring from the pocket in which he’d been fumbling, slipping the band on your finger.
“I love you,” you murmured, tugging him by his chin into a deeper kiss. You glanced to the table, empty with unordered food. “Can we just go home? I only want to be with you,” you admitted.
Ruhn’s smile deepened, tongue toying with his lip ring as he considered your words. “Deal. Let’s order in,” he purred, grabbing your hand to lead you from the restaurant.
Hopping in the back of the car he’d called, you leaned into Ruhn’s warmth as he pulled out his phone to assure Bryce and Dec things had gone well. “You should have heard the call I got from Bryce after you left for the restaurant,” he grumbled, eyes wide with genuine fear.
A laugh escaped you, drawing your fiancé’s gaze to your own where he grinned with satisfaction. “What are you thinking, my love?” he asked, thumb tugging lightly on your lower lip.
“I’m thinking... how excited I am to do life with you,” you murmured, scooting closer to the warmth of his lap. His gaze grew heated, violet eyes making you shrink at the power within them for a moment before you regained your composure. “And I’m wondering,” you paused, pulling out your phone, “what you want for dinner...”
Your scrolling was interrupted when Ruhn took your phone, tucking it into his leather jacket as he pulled you fully across his hips. Hand pulled the back of your neck so your cheek brushed his. 
“I know exactly what I want for dinner, tonight and every night,” his low voice growled against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. 
Pulling back, you looked into his eyes again, peace filling you at the familiar look of love you found. “And I want you, tonight and always,” you promised, leaning in to find the soft, promising passion of his lips against yours. Something restless settled inside of you, body and soul relaxing into his as you knew this was where you were meant to be.
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Text
girl like you 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as kidnapping, marital discord, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: a fight with your husband leads to an unexpected situation.
Characters: Lee Bodecker, Jake Jensen
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3
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"Marge," you struggle to keep the exasperation from your voice, "that's not how it works. It's a civil dispute, not criminal--" 
"They signed a contract," the blonde dictator bites back at you. 
"Right, and we're going through the appropriate channels to have there violations dealt with--" 
"Ugh, whatever," she throws the folder at you, "shoulda know better. I heard you never even passed the bar." 
You catch the file before the papers can flutter out. You scowl at her as she pushes her hands out in frustration and stomps her pink heel. You pinch your cheeks between your teeth. You never got to take the bar, you got married. Like her. Maybe you should ask about the dust on her English degree. 
"And that lipstick is tacky. It looks awful with your skin tone," she snarls as she rams a manicured nail in your direction, huffing and spin, taking off like a tornado towards the rest of the doll-like HOA clones. 
You look down as you shuffle the papers straight and shrug. You've never quite fit in. This place is like high school 2.0. You never have the right clothes or the right makeup, and no matter how much you primp, your hair just won't behave. You don't know why you bother. 
Well, it's something to do. A hobby in your mostly empty life. Brock promised you it wouldn't be like this. To his defence, you're the idiot who believed him. 
Your husband hasn't exactly kept his promises, has he? You leave through the gate, not bothering with the niceties. You're certain your dismissal was thoroughly witnessed. Besides, the meeting is as good as done. 
You wait by the curb, a text sent to Brock. Your feet kill in these slingbacks. You hate those as much as you hate the mascara that makes your lashes stick. 
The black car comes down the street and you open the door, dropping inside with a puff. You rest the folder in your lap and roll your eyes back against a repressed yawn. You shut the door and buckle your belt. 
"Hey, honey," you greet your husband. "How was your day?" 
"Busy," Brock answers curtly. 
"Oh, did you have dinner? I left it in the oven to reheat--" 
"Your my wife, you're the one who warms my dinner," he insists. 
Your nostrils flare and you look away. This is exactly what you dreaded the day you accepted that ring. All those years of schooling and you threw it away for an empty vow. 
"Alright, I'll turn the stove on when I get in--" 
"How was it? You're early. You didn't stay for drinks?" 
"I'm tired." 
"So? Five years and what do you have to show for it? Like I wanna hear about those dumb bitches at the barbecue? No, I wanna hear about my wife. About everything she's doing for the neighbourhood." 
"Don't talk like that," your murmur. If he thinks they're dumb, what does he think of you? 
"Don't tell me what to do," he snorts, "you know, you might be a little happier if you put in a little effort. Not like I don't bust my ass so you can buy nice dresses and yet you're still wearing this." 
He reaches over and tugs your skirt. It's one of your favourite dresses. You don't see an issue with it, other than it might be a bit past its prime. Besides, he does make a lot of money but you're the one who counts it and makes sure the bills get paid. There isn't room for you to buy Chanel. 
"Sorry," you mutter towards the window. 
"Don't be sorry, do better," he rolls the steering wheel as he rolls around the cul de sac. 
Your chest sinks and your lip twitches. Do better. You're tired of hearing that. You're tired of trying. You're just tired. 
"Stop the car," you demand as you sit up. 
"What?" He scoffs.  
"Stop the car and let me out--" 
"We're almost home." 
"I said let me out of the car," you snarl, "now!" 
He slams on the breaks so hard, you nearly smack into the dashboard. You hit the button on the seat belt and let it rebel. You grab the folder and throw it on the dash so the pages scatter. 
"You can turn a fucking dial," you snip and push the door open. 
He catches your arm, his grip tight and unbending, "where are you going?" 
"I don't know. Anywhere but here." 
"Don't be fucking stupid, get back in the car," he commands. 
"Let go!" 
"You're being stupid--" 
"Like always, right?" You spit at him and wriggle free, his nails scratching you hotly. "I'm done. I can't make you happy and I'm tired of trying." 
You get out and swing the door shut. You grip the strap of your purse, still hooked over your shoulder, and turn on your heel. You click down the sidewalk as he revs and jolts forward, following you. 
"Babe, get back in the car," he calls through the window. 
You ignore him and stomp on, nearly bending your ankle as you do. 
"Stop PMSing and get in the damn car!" He speeds up, almost driving past you, "don't make me tell you again." 
You keep quiet and march on. His brakes scrape to a halt and the car door opens and closes. You hear him behind you. You speed up to evade him. 
"You always gotta make everything a fucking task--" 
He grabs onto your purse and yanks you back, nearly knocking you on your ass. You cry out and face him, tugging on the bag as you play tug-of-war on the sidewalk. The sudden woop startles both of you and the purse drops to the ground.  
You look over as the cruiser pulls up. You know the car number and the face above the wheel. The same on that patrols the suburb. The HOA buys Sheriff Bodecker a special Christmas turkey every year and several other throughout to mark even the most redundant holidays. He's firmly in the pocket of the Stepford robots. 
"Everything okay over here?" Bodecker drawls as he rolls down his window.  
"Yes," Brock answers in tandem with your "no." 
Your husband sighs, "just a marital spat, sir, you know how it is." 
You grimace and shake your head. You pick up the purse as Brock looms close, "nothing to worry about Sheriff," you stand and swoop the bag over your elbow. "Thanks." 
"Babe," Brock says, "let's go home." 
"No," you retort and turn around, continuing on your way. 
You hear a footstep and another wail of the cruiser's siren, "sir, I'm gonna have to ask you not to follow the lady. She said no. She probably just needs to cool off." 
You shake your head and continue on. Brock's voice croaks but he can't summon words. He growls and backs off. 
As you continue down the block, tires slowly turn on the tarmac and you glance over at the sheriff keeps a light foot on the gas, "ma'am, you wanna get in? I'll take ya to the station to settle your mind." 
"It's fine, sheriff," you say, "thank you." 
"Now, miss, I don't mean to frighten you but I gotta," he insists, "I can't just drive off in case your husband decides to follow. I only wanna get you outta the way do he don't do anything dumb." 
"Sheriff, I--" you stop and your soles aches from the high arches of your shoes, "he wouldn't..." 
"Y'all were pretty heated back there," he says, "I'm not saying what would happen, but I'd feel better knowin' you're not wandering the streets alone." 
You chew your tongue and look back and forth. Brock watches from down the street, leaning on his car. You know he's just waiting for Bodecker to take off so he can do exactly what the policeman suggests. 
"Thank you, sir," you step towards the curb, "I appreciate that." 
"Anything for a good lady like yerself," he nods, "'fraid you're gonna have to ride piggy back though." 
He shifts into park and gets out. He opens the back door and you teeter at the edge of the pavement. You never pictured yourself in the back of a police car but it's preferable to the alternative. 
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Honey Girl. Chapter Nine. Alternate Ending.
this was the reveal I was going to go for, before I changed it for the one you read in the chapter. this one just didn’t feel as personal, or as connected, if you get me. but I hope you enjoy this - a glimpse into my writing process, I suppose. <3
series masterlist. chapter nine.
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You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.
You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.
Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.
The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.
You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.
A manicured hand finds its way onto your arm. You can’t feel the sensation, but you can see a person out of the corner of your eye. She’s wearing navy blue scrubs, her hair pulled back, nails painted bright magenta with glitter on them.
“Darlin’?”
When all you can do is pant, she tries again.
“Sweetheart? It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re having a panic attack.”
You’d think the diagnosis would calm you down, but it does nothing to comfort your racing heart. You feel as if you’re spiralling, falling down a rabbit hole with no signs of light.
She squeezes your shoulders firmly, kneading the tense muscles.
“We’re gonna focus on your breathing, alright? Copy me, copy exactly what I do. In, out. In, out.”
She takes big, exaggerated breaths as you do your best to imitate her. She nods, smiling, encouraging you to keep going. After what feels like an eternity, you manage to stop hyperventilating.
“There we go. I’m Lulu, I’m a nurse here. Can you tell me your name?”
You choke it out as she looks at you softly.
“That’s a pretty name. Are you a patient here, or are you visiting someone?”
You feel faint still, your surroundings spinning.
“My Dad’s here,” you whisper. “Emergency surgery.”
“Ah. That’s super scary, huh?”
All you can do is nod, eyes focused on the way her wedding ring glints in the sunlight.
“Are you here with anyone else, or are you by yourself?”
You only really catch half of what she’s saying, still disoriented.
“My soulmate is upstairs,” you say quietly, hoping you’ve answered her question correctly.
“And what’s his name?”
“Bucky.”
She smiles, squeezing your shoulders again.
“Have you been Tethered for long?”
You shake your head, before debating it.
“Almost a couple of years.”
“You’re still newbies! That’s so exciting. I’ve been married to mine for nineteen years. Feels like no time at all - it flies by.”
You try to muster a smile. It’s weak, but it’s there.
“Which department is your Dad in, honey?”
“Cardiology. Room four.”
“Perfect. I’m gonna go grab Bucky and bring him down here, okay? I’d happily sit with you all day, trust me, but I can’t. I’ll be right back.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Lulu practically runs up the stairs, determined to find the family of the sweet girl in distress. She sees a lot of herself in you, and her heart aches.
She eyes Room 4, knocking gently before popping her head around the door.
“I’m so sorry to barge in. Is there a Bucky here?”
He stands up quickly, nodding.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“Ah. Hi, Bucky,” she smiles. “I have your soulmate sat outside. She had a panic attack, and I found her on the ground. She’s alright, but could really use you right now.”
It’s as if time stands still, as soon as the words leave her mouth.
“…soulmate?” Lori asks, looking between Bucky and the nurse.
Lulu says your name, and Bucky’s heart stops in his chest.
He’s bolting out of the room before anyone can ask any more questions.
His only priority is you.
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goldlightsaber · 2 days
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not to repeat what others have probably said but tashi and patrick are mirrors. she has this manicured life, but patrick sees right through it and is like, "yeah, i know deep down you're just as rotten as me." and he's right! once they're alone and she has no appearances to keep up for anyone else, she cheats and she spits and she cusses him out. she’s feral and she's messy and the barrier separating them is hair-thin.
tashi likes to pretend she's above him (and in some ways she is — she’s more responsible, less childish), but in reality i think she’s afraid of what he unleashes in her, of the pride he wounded all those years ago. she likes and doesn’t like that he doesn’t coddle her; he won’t worship her, like art (ie be in her “fan club”). she’s not at goddess status to patrick, like she is for art — to him, she’s an equal (a “peer”). which is terrifying, because it makes her question if he actually loves her. it’s the seed of doubt art planted and that continued to fester in her for years. is it love if there is no devotion? no worship? if patrick doesn’t love her, that means he won. not in tennis but in arguably something worse. so she refuses the vulnerability of letting him into the room when her leg breaks — he hurt her. no second chances. tashi duncan would not be humiliated again.
patrick also fights her on things. he would never be obedient like art. from the get-go, you can see art is smitten while patrick, while attracted to her, is never afraid to say bluntly what he thinks to her (and tashi is blunt in return). they’re both selfish, and they recognize that in each other. the animal in him brings out the animal in her
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junggunz · 18 hours
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Like. Comment. Subscribe! ft. Goo Kim |🔞
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summary: before your official collaboration with Goo, you wanted to take him for a test run cw: fem bodied!reader x camboy!goo, reader is also a streamer, smut, a tiny bit of plot, filming, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, squirting, cumshot/facial, p in v, reader gets slapped once, reader chokes goo, creampie, all characters featured are 18+, this got longer than i anticipated so let me know if i forgot anything wc: 4.5k an: BET YOU DIDNT THINK I WAS GONNA WORK ON THIS DID YOU LOL. my bad this idea was only half baked when i wrote the first part.
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Part 1: Like! | Part 2: Comment!
You spent at least four weeks talking to Goo daily about the upcoming stream you had planned. Just from the first couple messages you exchanged, you knew he saw things as strictly business. Discussing protocols like scheduling, whose channel the stream would be cast from, the split of profits, STD paneling and other things along those lines that would once again be discussed with lawyers present so the two of you could come up with a contract. This type of professionalism he displayed soothed any nerves about whether Goo would be good to collaborate with.
A big dick and a business savvy mind; you had seriously struck a goldmine with him. 
Naturally, the topic of kinks and hard limits would come up—though it was technically still a work related question, it was the precursor for more personal questions and allowed you to get more of a feel for who Goo was outside of his streams. Much to your surprise, there was very little—if any—difference. Having what seems like an obsession with money, he was one of those eccentric rich guys that you had only seen in movies. However, he lacked the overtly creepy flair that a lot of those men had. Goo was funny, flirty, and overall just interesting to talk to; it made you briefly wonder about if he was open to the idea of seeing you outside of work…but the idea comes and goes with the wind as you open up a window in your bedroom, starting to feel stuffy from all the lights on you while you sat at your desk.
“Would it be too slutty to let Goo creampie me the first time we hang out?” You giggle to your viewers, teehee and haha-ing for now since you didn’t have time for a normal, full length stream in the evening. “I’m seeing him later today to talk about our collaboration. I’m so nervous.” You casually mention as you read over the chat.
antisimpsimpclub: plz record it if u do 🙏 FiveStarDickVinJin: lol I’m way better looking than him. Is that why you were too shy to ask me to collab? BIGDADDYJANGHYUN: wowww you said we were gonna collab again soon wtf…you know i have a kid to feed SEONGEUNSPANTIES: Goo is so hot in person. trust.  JaneKim123: I don’t like Goo tbh. He’s giving….SCUMBAG vibes 🤢 
Face illuminated by a light blue glow as you read over comments on the screen, you hum softly in amusement at the varied opinions your viewers had about the other streamer. It would be a lie to say that you were a fan of his prior to watching his stream; as he was a newer and still growing content creator, you never saw him pop up on your social media feeds or be recommended to you. Only with the push of a few viewers who had enjoyed both your content and his had begged for you to check out Goo after he mentioned that he wouldn’t do anything collaborative unless it was with you. 
“Goo hasn’t worked with anyone else on the site yet. It’s only natural that I claim him first before anyone else can get their filthy paws on him.”  You state as a fox-like grin graces your features, idly rocking your desk chair back and forth with your freshly manicured toes on the floor. 
KIMMIRU: power move antisimpsimpclub: Y/N is such a sweetheart helping out a smaller streamer. We love to see it.  dxgxxx: i hope u make him cum so hard he cries FiveStarDickVinjin: Goo is a greedy clout chaser. hmu later  
Quite honestly, collaborating with Goo was the last outcome you would have expected after you watched his stream. You clicked on his profile, thinking you would troll him and call him out for trying to be a social climber but when you first laid eyes on him and that perfect cock of his…you knew you had to have him. 
When you questioned him about why he wanted to work with you specifically, he had no qualms explaining that you were his best bet at rapidly increasing his viewers. Despite him trying to claw his way up the platform’s hierarchy by using you as a stepping stool, you appreciated his honesty. Seeing that garnering a large following and being able to capitalize off of that was Goo’s incentive for streaming, you kindly invited him over to give him some pointers. Totally not having any ulterior motives. 
Your short stream comes to an end when you hear your doorbell ring and you wave goodbye to all your viewers, thanking them for stopping by and tipping. Turning off your computer, you wander out to the main space of your apartment, surveying your surroundings one last time to ensure everything was in place before finally opening the door to reveal Goo standing at your doorstep. Decked in designer from head to toe as usual, he hands you a gift bag while he steps inside your apartment once the door is open wide enough. Not polite enough to say hello, but gracious enough to bring you two bottles of champagne. And not to mention, it was the brand you casually mentioned liking during one of your conversations…  
“Nice place. Mine’s nicer, but not everyone has exquisite taste like me.” Goo muses, examining your living space as he makes his way to your couch and settles down on the plush surface. “So, Streaming God, what knowledge can you bestow upon me?” He questions, getting straight to the point of his visit. 
Double checking that you locked your front door, you go to put the champagne in the fridge for the meantime. Following that, you grab your laptop that had been sitting on the kitchen island before going over to where Goo was sitting and taking the spot beside him. Pulling up his profile on the platform you both streamed on. Stony expression to hide the heat tickling your belly, you scrub through a few of his previous streams then ask him to show you his other social media accounts.
“For someone streaming on an adult website, your streams are too tame. It’s almost boring.” You say bluntly, opinion now fully formulated as you continue to scroll through his highlights. “Viewers are already paying a subscription fee to the website just to see content and you’re begging them for more money only to see the outline of your dick.” 
“If they want to see the goods, they can check my OnlyFans.” He shrugs with a small laugh. 
“As a content creator, you need to at least be able to give the illusion that you’re letting your audience into your life.” You explain, turning toward him with a serious expression.  “Putting everything behind a paywall just increases the likelihood of someone leaking your stuff and making you lose more money.” 
The mention of losing out any sort of capital gain has Goo listening more intently to the advice you give him. He cringes at the notion of giving previews of his dick for free; but if you say that’s the surefire way to draw people and their wallets in, who is he to complain? Even with over one thousand subscribers, he's not making nearly as much bank as you.  
From your long winded lecture, there are three points that Goo takes to heart.
Be open to the suggestions of your viewers. They love feeling like they’re being listened to.
Express gratitude for your donations. Rewarding your highest tippers almost always leads to them spending more money.
Make your viewers think they have a chance at fucking you.
“Why don’t we film something tonight? I’ll even edit the preview for you and show you how to do it yourself.” You suggest to him after wrapping up the lengthy conversation on how to improve his content. “You can upload the full length, uncensored video as a pay per view.”
“What? Like as a teaser for the upcoming stream?” Goo questions, arching a brow curiously upon hearing your idea. Perking up, he sits up a bit straighter as he looks at your expression, waiting for what you had to say about the idea you seemingly hatched out of nowhere.
“Exactly.” You respond, more than delighted to see that you’ve gotten his full attention. “Plus, if we wait until the stream to fuck, the viewers are most definitely going to talk shit when things are awkward.” 
Goo pretends to think it over and “check his schedule” to see if he had time tonight. It’s a ruse to hide the fact he was eager borderlining on desperate to get into your pants. He can’t remember the last time he went out and got laid since hookups long lost their appeal and having strangers throw money at him just for being hot was enough of an ego boost.   
And so the first filming session ensues. 
For an “amateur” style set up, Goo notices that you’re very meticulous about where you place your tripods and lighting; having no problem ordering him around and telling him where to go as you figure out the best configuration for things. Lights and cameras in place, all that's missing is the action. There's no director to yell cue or remind Goo to get in place. It's just you. Though you do offer some instruction, the male is unsure what to do because never had he been in a sexual situation quite like this. 
“Just pretend the cameras aren’t there.” You tell him once everything is all arranged to your liking and the two of you are sitting next to each other stiffly at the edge of your bed. 
Well acclimated to the environment, you don’t think twice before leaning in to make the first move; a soothing hand on Goo’s thigh as your lips find his. Your boldness catches him by surprise at first but it takes only a moment before he matches your energy, reciprocating your kiss even more fervently as his hands reach to cup your jaw. Thumbs lightly pressing into the hollows of your cheeks, Goo’s tongue slips out in search of yours; dancing along your lower lip until your mouth opens for him and he’s able to get his first taste of you. Long fingers spidering down the column of your throat, he applies the lightest amount of pressure on the side of your neck and causes your breath to hitch as his tongue sweeps along the warmth of your mouth. Breaking the kiss for just a few moments, he looks at you with a mischievous smile.
“You like that?” Goo whispers against your lips, giving a light squeeze to your neck which provokes a shaky sigh from you.
“Yeah—” You manage to get out in a breathy voice, swallowing thickly as you try to retain some semblance of control; but quite honestly all you can think about is tearing off his clothes and hopping on his dick.
“Jog my memory a bit. Tell me what else you like.” He coos, holding you in place as he stares you down. “What did you say you wanted to do with me?” 
A short laugh tickles the back of your throat when you hear Goo’s question and start to hark back to all your raunchy conversations with him. Lighthearted in nature, you never would have guessed that the casual naughty back and forth through texts had him struggling to reply with one hand holding his phone the other hand stroking his cock. But as your hand crawls up his inner thigh and cups his bulge while you’re speaking to him, you understand the impact your words have on him.
“Aw, what’s the fun in that?” You croon with an impish grin, your fingertips already dancing toward the buckle of his expensive belt. “I’ll just show you.”
It becomes very clear to Goo why you’re the top earner on the website. The way you speak. The way you move. It’s all so effortlessly seductive. If he wasn’t watching you slink down to your knees right before his eyes and pull his pants down to free his throbbing cock, he would have sworn this was some sort of fantasy or augmented reality. Seeing you in the flesh, you were definitely too good to be true but that’s what made you the perfect virtual girlfriend in the line of adult streaming. 
“You really are prettier in person.” You murmur, the warmth of your breath gently fanning against the head of his length when you speak. 
You might be fixed on his pulsing dick right in front of your face but you look so, so, so good to Goo; your mouth just an inch or so away from his cock. The hunger in your eyes mirrors his and it’s something he doesn’t think he’s seen before. After being disappointed one too many times, getting head stopped being exciting for him. All his hook ups always missed the mark. Whether it be his cock being too long for them, their jaw aching, or not liking the way he bucked his hips into their face; it was all the same. But you? You seem absolutely thrilled by the fact his dick would definitely be blocking your airways when you took him into your mouth. 
So you do it without thinking too much.
To be embraced by your warm mouth is what Goo assumes it's like to be welcomed to the gates of heaven. It's an all consuming feeling of elation that fills his field of vision with white. He can't even fathom the level of pleasure he'll feel when you make him cum–just the sensation of you gently sucking him off and massaging his shaft with your tongue seems like the pinnacle of bliss. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Goo is unsure if cumming too quickly or if starting to cry from how good he felt would be more embarrassing. Both seem like very viable options when you're paying so much attention to him and giving him the sloppiest top he'll probably ever get in his life.
“F-fuck, what are you?” Goo rasps in disbelief of how good you felt, blinking back the tears that formed in his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
He doesn’t think it can get any better than this; but it does. Your mouth inches further down his shaft, swallowing carefully with your tongue pressed against the underside. When you gag the first time, Goo expects you to pull off immediately but you just keep going; your eyes teary just like his as you drool around him. Once the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, Goo is sure that’s where you’ll stop– he was more than content like this. Breathing slowly through each gag, you push yourself until your chin grazes his full sack; swallowing around him to stimulate his length because it was too difficult to suck when your lips were stretched around his girth like this. 
Even though you’ve taken him fully, Goo is greedy and he wants to just yank on your hair then start fucking your face but it’s his legs feeling like jelly that stop him. All he can currently do is moan like a slut, enjoying the slick heat of your mouth as you take him in; not leaving an inch out. Running a rough hand through your hair, Goo grips it tight before using that strong hold to bob your head along his cock faster. Squeezing your eyes shut, you whine around him, breathing heavily through your nose to fight your gag reflex.
You really hope that your camera’s microphones are able to pick up the pornographic noises of the wet sputters, groans that are closer to whimpers from him, and the needy gasps and gags from you. It’s downright vulgar and the sound alone is to make anyone feel some type of way. So wrapped in the pleasure of your mouth, Goo forgets that everything is currently being filmed. He can’t be bothered to hold back when he feels his balls tightening up before shooting his load right down your throat, the thick white ribbons of his cum continuing to spray across your face when you pull your mouth off him. 
Sitting back on your knees, you wrap your hand around his slick shaft to pump every last drop out of him; letting more of it splatter on your face and chest and drip down your hand. Using your clean hand to lightly slap his thigh and bring him back into the present moment, you motion for him to grab your phone that was on a handheld stabilizer.
Thank god for the equipment you owned; Goo was shaking so bad he definitely wouldn’t have been able to film properly. Just looking at you covered in his cum had prevented his cock from softening. Seeing how pathetic he was when he reached his climax, you can’t help but smile when you see length aching for more. After getting a few clips of you swallowing his seed, you get cleaned up then move into the next act.
Laying back on your bed with Goo between them, eyeing your clothed cunt hungrily, it’s now your turn to film him.
“Most male content creators forget that their female dominated audience don’t wanna see them fucking some girl; they wanna be able to imagine that they’re the girl getting fucked.” You had told Goo during one of your conversations with him about growing his platform. 
Peeling your panties off your body carefully, he wants to look at you and see your reaction to his touch but he’s only met with a camera lens of your phone. Maybe seeing your face would be too much for Goo anyway; he felt like he was being suffocated by the delectable scent and the succulent visual of your pussy in front of his face. You watch him through the screen with bated breath, trying your best to keep your sounds to a minimum when you feel his tongue make contact with your pussy for the first time. Gripping your thighs tight, Goo licks fat stripes of your folds; spreading them just enough with his tongue so he could taunt your swollen clit with the feathery contact. He can feel your legs lock up as your toes dig into the sheets as an attempt to ground yourself and stop your hips from bucking against his face.
Goo can’t remember the last time he went down on someone, but he definitely doesn’t recall the last time he’s felt this needy while doing it. The way you drip all over his tongue is addicting; he can’t stop himself from shoving the wet muscle into your pussy deeper and deeper until his nose is pressed against your clit. He would gladly suffocate himself between your thighs if it meant he could taste every last bit of you. His fingers nearly bruise your skin when he grips you tighter to yank you closer to his mouth; ravenously eating your pussy all while the tip of his nose stimulates your pearl.
Moaning into your flesh, he can’t bear even the idea of you trying to pull away from him before he’s had his fill of you. The way you clench on his tongue sends heat straight to his cock much like how each of the sounds he makes makes you drip all over his face. Meanwhile, you feel like you’re gonna burst from having to keep your voice down. You had mentally prepared yourself for leg shaking orgasms that would be brought on by Goo’s perfect cock but you did not anticipate how good he would be with his mouth. Guess his mouth was good for more than just talking big game; he could definitely back it all up. 
Holding on to the glorified selfie stick with a death grip, you can’t hold back the moan that pours from your lungs when Goo’s tongue moves to swirl around your clit while his fingers dip into your leaking hole. The naughty expression gracing his beautiful face as he stares at the camera while curling his ring and middle fingers inside of you has your thighs trembling. He finds your sweet spot so easily, it’s unfair. The dual simulation of his fingers pressing into your walls while his lips envelope your clit drives you mad with pleasure. It’s a paradox of emotions as you crave more of him yet feel like you’re gonna combust if he doesn’t let up on you. 
“F-fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” You pant quietly, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to keep back any more of your sounds.
“Aw, sweetheart, we haven’t even gotten to the good part.” Goo chastises you, lips momentarily leaving your clit before he spits on the pulsating bud then rubs over it in circles with his thumb. “Your pussy is just so wet– it’s the perfect thing for quenching my thirst.”
He chuckles in amusement when he feels your walls squeeze around his fingers in response to his words. 
“I bet I could make this juicy little pussy cum in just three…two…one.” In a mere three rough but very precise pushes against your g-spot, a surprised squeal escapes you as you squirt all over his fingers.
You were definitely going to keep a copy of this video for yourself. 
Goo laps up the aftermath of your release hungrily, slurping up every last bit of your juices until he could only taste his own saliva on you. After that, both of you shed your remaining clothes, double checking that the rest of the tripods were still in a good position to capture everything.
“You wanna fuck me missionary? I didn’t know you were a romantic.” You tease as Goo mounts you after pushing you to lay back against the bed again; now able to take in the sight of you fully. 
“Or maybe I want you to get a good look at the person who’s about to make you cum so hard you forget your name.” He taunts, gripping his shaft in one hand while dragging it through your slick folds; tapping the head against your sensitive clit.
“Haha, so fu–ck!” Goo takes the words right out of your mouth when he abruptly dips into your heat.
One hand finds its way to clutch onto your leg while the other holds himself up beside your head, watching the way your pussy swallows up his length oh so eagerly. The fat tip of his cock makes your head spin– stretching you out in the best way and molding your walls to fit him. Giving a few slow but incredibly deep thrusts, you feel the plump tip of his cock digging deep into your sopping cunt so animalistically it has your vision going spotty. Setting off a brutal pace, the force of his hips rutting into you feels like a truck just slammed into you. It rips the moans right out of your throat and you can only let out a surprised gasp. 
“Feels so much better to have me inside of you instead of some stupid toy, doesn’t it?” He asks between deep thrusts, filling you the hilt. 
Everything is so sloppy and wet; your pussy does all the talking for you as it squeezes him tight and produces lewd squelches every time he pushes into your heat. His thick cock tickles deep in your gummy insides and it has you salivating from how ridiculously good it feels. The moment your eyes start to droop as your mind drifts to who knows where, Goo gives your cheek a light slap.
“I told you, I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” He says, his voice lowering menacingly; the usual look of mischief in his eyes gone and replaced by a dark lust.
Licking his lips, he can still taste you on them and it makes his cock throb even harder when it’s paired with you looking up at him with that blissed out expression on your face. The way your body bounces each time he slams into you. The way you grab at the sheets so desperately. Everything about how you look beneath him in this very moment makes him want to tear into you like no other.
Sure, Goo is putting on a performance that would definitely cause his viewership to skyrocket; but he doesn’t give a fuck about that right now. All he cares about is fucking you so good that you get hooked on him; because he’s definitely developed a taste for you. Holding his cock deep inside of your pussy, his mean thrusts turn into rough grinds of his hips; making sure to very deliberately press his pubic bone against your clit each time the tip of his cock kisses that special spot deep within you. 
“Oh, fuck me–” You groan out between gritted teeth as Goo pushes into you, tremors running through your body as you get dangerously close to your finish.
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Goo laughs, rolling his hips into you harder. “You want more, don’t you? You’re gonna make a mess all over my dick if I give it to you?”
Moaning in frustration because of how much just his words affect you, you relinquish your hold on the sheets; your hands sliding up his strong arms and landing on his shoulders. You catch Goo by surprise when one of your hands wraps around his throat, squeezing lightly.
“Just shut up and make me cum.” You tell him, masking the desperation you truly felt with a malice filled voice. 
“You don’t need to tell me twice.” He snickers before starting to slam into your sweet spot hard, pulling his hips back until the tip only remains then disappearing inside of you again. 
Your pussy was already clinging on to him so good. As he feels your walls fluttering around him as you approach your finish, it spurs his on as well. The urge to cum builds up so fast, but Goo’s hips move faster; encouraged by the way your hole just keeps squeezing tighter and tighter with every slam of his hips. 
“A-ah…I’m cumming.” You whine out, unconsciously gripping Goo harder in all the right ways. The combined sensation of your juices soaking his dick while clamping down on him and your hand on his neck choking him harder makes his brain short circuit. Tumbling head first into orgasmic bliss, he can’t think to pull out and thoughtlessly floods your cunt with his cum, spilling it all right into your cervix. He pumps every last drop into you before finally pulling out, flopping on to the mattress and trying to catch his breath and make sense of what just happened.
Surprising him yet again, you’re quick to recover and hop out of bed–despite your trembling legs– to end the recording and turn off all your cameras. Closing his eyes, Goo hears you walking back and forth around the room doing whatever you need to do but he jolts back into full attention when you rather aggressively plop back in bed beside him; this time with your laptop.
“Are you ready to work? Or should I give you a few more minutes?”
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ninthcircleofprythian · 16 hours
Text
Unbound
Part One - They Don't Know About Us
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Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?
Word Count - 4.2k
Authors Note - This is part one of a continuing series. This first part is establishing background. Fluffy with a pinch of angst.
Warnings - references to past domestic abuse/injury, some sexual innuendo.
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“I hope you’re prepared to be annihilated this year Az,” Rhys drawled as he pulled gloves over his slender hands. “And please — let’s refrain from being petty in your concession speech.” 
Azriel flashed a furtive smile. “I’m not even worried. Cassian’s the sore loser – not me.”
“I am not!” Cassian lashed out a sideways punch at Az’s shoulder, which he effortlessly dodged before kicking out and knocking Cassian leg right from under him.
Cas landed in a hard wallop on his back onto the snow covered ground. “Hey! Watch the wings!” With a nimble move he popped straight to standing again and shook the icy crystals from his webbed appendages. “What’s the count up to now anyway?” He directed at Azriel. “Three hundred and thirty something isn’t it?”
“Three hundred and thirty three this year. When I win.” Az adjusted his own winter leathers in preparation to begin. “Feels like a lucky number,” he added, rubbing his siphon clad hands together and blowing into them, his shadows responding to his breath and scattered before him.
“You know what they say Az, good things come in threes.” Cassian punched out again, hitting both Az and Rhys in the shoulders in jest, his boisterous laugh rang out in echo across the empty clearing they stood along the edge of. 
Rhys let the punch land, rocking back slightly and laughing in return. “Alright, we all know the rules here. Let’s get this show started.”
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“Well–what’s the verdict?” Feyre exclaimed, popping her head up from the sofa as the three imposing Illyrians filed into the River House foyer. “Do you have a surprise for me?” She narrowed a questioning look at her mate who stood behind the sofa, hands clasped behind him. Rhys’ normally hidden wings were out on full display which she assumed was a sign of the news. 
“My money is on Cassian,” said Mor cooly from where she was painting her nails a shocking red on the coffee table. 
Rhys gave a sly noncommittal nod. “Hmm. I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders without releasing his grasp behind him. 
“C’mon! Let me see!” Feyre kneeled on the sofa seat reaching over the back and playfully grabbing at Rhys’ arms to get a look at his hands. He halfheartedly attempted to evade her before bringing up his hands showing empty palms. 
“Sorry darling, maybe next year.” He bent over and planted a wet kiss in the center of her forehead. 
“I knew it!” shouted Mor. “Pay up Nes.” She held her freshly manicured hand out toward Nesta sitting in the chair nearby. Nes slid an icy glance up from the pages of her novel and then immediately went back to reading.
“Wait–you bet against me?!” Cassian wailed, flying up from his slouch in the other armchair. “Your own mate?! Gods spare me!” He promptly flopped back into the seat, adjusting his wings with a loud thump.
Feyre immediately snapped her gaze back and forth between Cassian and Azriel, who had nipped into the dining room to snag one of Elain’s pastries. 
“Alright, fess up you two. I want my present.” Feyre huffed, a dramatic pout and hands on hips like a toddler.
The ridiculous tradition had begun one year when Rhys got the idea to craft a trophy for the winner of the annual Solstice snowball fight, which just happened to be him that particular year. The tiny pewter cup had been plastered with gold foil and wrapped into a lavish package which Rhys had then presented to his mate as her birthday gift. He had tried to pass it off as his only gift before whipping out a lovely necklace to adorn Feyre’s neck instead. Every year since, the tiny cup had been passed off from that year’s winner to Feyre as her first official birthday gift of the year. Feyre, Mor and Nesta however had started their own tradition of betting money on who they predicted would be the winner. 
Sauntering past the sofa arm and settling into the empty half, Azriel balanced his pastry with one hand and reached into his leather’s chest pocket with the other. 
“Happy Birthday Feyre,” he said quietly with a smile and passed off the cup into her waiting hands. The darkened strands of shadow curled excitedly around the small gift as if they were showing it off before quickly returning to his fingers.
“Oh Az! Congrats! You shouldn’t have,” she said with mock humility. “No but really,” her face turned serious. “You shouldn’t have. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Feyre shot her mate a teasing look as Az threw his head back and laughed, mouth still full of pastry.
“And you thought I was the sore loser.” Cassian grumbled playfully.
“Oh Cas,” Feyre started gently, “if it makes you feel any better my money was on you too.”
Rhys choked in surprise on the whiskey he was sipping as he leaned on the mantle. “What the fuck! Seriously Feyre?” 
Az threw his head back further this time, nearly dropping the plate from his lap and let loose a deep belly laugh. 
From the other side of the room Cas pointed his fist at Rhys as if to bump it from a distance. “Solidarity brother.” Turning his attention to his other brother on the sofa, “And I don’t know what you find so funny over there. In case you didn’t notice – that means no one bet on you.”
Nesta had finally closed her book, nestling it next to her in the chair and joined the conversation. “Az was too obvious a choice,” she stated, her hard face showing no sign of a smile. “Betting on the underdogs gives a higher payout.” 
Cassian made a throaty gurgling noise as he mimed stabbing himself in the heart and flexed his wrist. “Twist a little harder, why don’t you Nes.” 
“Underdog huh?” Rhys quipped from over his whiskey glass, his violet eyes flaring a bit.
“I would have won, you know,” Cassian argued. “If it wasn’t for Az’s unfair advantage I would have totally been victorious.”
“And what exactly was my ‘unfair advantage’ Cas?” Snaking lines of shadow writhed down his legs as Azriel lengthened his posture into a relaxed lounge.
“C’mon brother. Don’t play dumb. It’s time to fess up.” Cassian’s eyes twinkled with hints of a secret knowledge. 
“I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about,” Az answered lazily.
Mor began fanning her hands in the air in order to dry the second coat of her polish. “Let’s hear it then, Cassian. If there was foul play we should know.” 
“I think Az was right, Cassian.” Rhys chuckled to himself. “You are the sore loser.”
“Oh c'mon Rhysie darling,” Cassian teased. “I know a mating bond chafe when I see one. I remember ours well.”
Everything stopped. Any rustling or whispering or shifting of bodies abruptly halted. Mor’s fanning paused in mid-air, hands hanging comically in front of her face. Even breathing seemed to be on pause. At least it was for Azriel, as all eyes in the room fell upon him. He didn’t even notice the shushing whisper of his shadows curled around his face trying to tell him something because all he could hear was the slamming of his heartbeat in his ears. And he wasn’t convinced that everyone else couldn't hear it either.  
“What exactly do you mean by chafe, Cassian?” Nesta broke in.
“Oh, so you can give it but you can’t take it?” Cassian quipped as he stood to cross the room. “I don’t mean anything by it, my love.” Dipping his frame he extended his arms in an attempt to embrace his mate. She very quickly shot out one palm, planting it in the center of his chest and shoved. 
“And what exactly about me having a mating bond would be unfair?” Azriel rumbled darkly, sitting rigidly upright now.
Cassian’s head whipped in Azriel’s direction. “That’s not what I meant,” he said tensely as he made his way back to his chair next to the sofa. Then softening his voice, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Cas reached out and placed a hand to Az’s knee.
“So what did you mean?” Az responded, his tone menacing.
“All I meant was that with Rhys and I, we all knew about our bonds before the annual fight. We all knew what we were walking into. You could have told us in advance,” Cassian’s hand squeezed Az’s knee gently. “Level the playing field a bit.” Cassian winked with a laugh for the benefit of everyone listening, but leaned in with another squeeze. Lowering his voice to a soft pitch he said, “You could have told us.” He smiled sadly before dropping his hand and Azriel’s gaze.
“A mating bond?” Feyre asked astounded. “Az? Is it true?”
“Who is she? Do we know her?” Mor chimed in quick succession.
“A secret lover? How scandalous. How long have you been hiding her away?” Nesta asked dreamily, thinking what a good plot to a romance novel this would make.
The questions erupted in a flurry. 
“There is no bond.” Azriel said flatly, fortifying his face into an unreadable cover.
Feyre sighed out the breath she had been holding and rubbed her hand on Azriel’s forearm. Mor’s fanning resumed at a slower pace, her eyes still fixed on Azriel gauging his mood. Rhys still stood languidly against the mantle wearing a similarly unreadable mask.
“No bond–,” Nesta said lowly. “But there is someone isn’t there?” Her hard stare penetrated into Azriel as he met it. Ever since he had seen her emerge from that bog long ago as a frightful Goddess of Death, he swore she could see things in him that no one else could. 
It was true he had once yearned for a mating bond so badly that he thought he’d rather retreat into his own tortured mind than live without one. But the time after meeting his love had changed that. From the time she had first started entering his circle as an acquaintance to the time they were inseparable as lovers, Azriel had come to find that she was worth more than every mating bond he was never granted.
He held Nesta’s stare just a moment too long. A shiver spread through his wings and he pulled a sharp inhale through his nose. There was no use lying about it. He had indeed kept her a secret for some time now but they had both already agreed to make it public, they just hadn’t exactly decided when yet. 
The length of time it took Azriel to answer Nesta’s question led all the eyes in the room to shift back to him. 
“Yes.” Azriel said and heard Mor gasp, also noticing how Rhys’ whiskey glass remained touching his lips but he wasn’t swallowing. “There is someone.”
“I knew it.” Mor whispered breathlessly.
“No you didn’t, Mor,” Feyre shot. “You always say that.” Turning to Azriel next to her she flashed him a beautifully authentic smile. “We are happy for you Az. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Rhys had broken his frozen stance and moved lithely over to the small bar cart in the corner. He held a glass out to Cassian and then turned to do the same to Azriel. “We are very happy for you Az,” he offered out the heavy crystal whiskey glass matching the one in his own hand. “Cheers brother.”
Azriel accepted the drink, tipping it gently towards the one in Rhys’ hand until they clinked together. 
“May the Cauldron bless you both,” Cassian added genuinely as the motion of tapping glasses was repeated between them.
“You should invite her to Solstice dinner tonight.” Mor uttered from the floor.
“Yes!” squealed Feyre “Az, invite her! If she is free that is.”
Az brought the whiskey to his mouth and drained the glass in one gulp. “We’ll see,” he said through the burn.
“Yes, if she’s free, please do invite her tonight.” Rhys offered. “And let’s hope she is free, or I might never hear the end of it.” He winked a teasing wink at his mate, who then belted out a ringing belly laugh of her own. 
“No. He won’t” Feyre agreed. Azriel couldn’t help but smile to himself at that, knowing it was entirely true.
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Celeste sat hugging her knees on the sofa in her apartment listening intently, wide-eyed at Azriel’s recollection of the conversation that had taken place earlier that morning.
“Oh! This is so, so good Az. No really, it’s delicious,” she crooned, bouncing in her seat on the sofa. “We couldn’t have planned it better ourselves! They are going to be so surprised!” 
He listened with amused distraction as she began plotting and planning the whole thing, exacting how they would make their grand reveal. As she jotted down ideas and paced around the small apartment living room, he could only focus on her and not her words. 
In her flurry of excitement she had swept her dark brown curls up atop her head and out of the way, exposing the soft expanse of her neck and the whole of her face. His eyes lingered along the scar that traversed her features, beginning its snaking path in her right eyebrow cleaving it entirely in two. Barely missing the corner of her eye, it continued over the bridge of her nose, through the flesh of her left nostril and slipped down into the plump pillow of her top lip. Although it had been healed for decades now, it was still fiery bright red in color against her lightly tanned skin. 
The scar itself had never bothered Az. It did nothing to detract from Celete’s beauty and charm. It was the origin of the injury that had his blood boiling. The mark was a relic of her former partner. A vile and cruel male who had enacted punishments upon her for any perceived slight. The scar came about after one of the times Celeste had attempted to escape him. Ever since Azriel had first heard her recount a particularly awful recollection to Nesta after walking in on a girls night in the House of Wind, he had attempted to find the man named Tyrik. As spymaster, Azriel might have abused a few of his court powers in order to do so. Every lead for the last three decades ended in a dead end. One day though, Azriel was convinced that Tyrik would be the one dead.
Azriel mentally tugged his thoughts away from that male before the anger began showing in his body language. His hazel eyes continued to trail Celeste across the room, still pacing animatedly. How anyone could hurt this wonderful female before him, he would never understand. He answered the flurry of questions Celeste asked him in quick succession and offered his opinion on how things should be timed for the surprise. 
“Oh. Oh, Cauldron boil me!” Celeste suddenly exclaimed with a squeak. “I have to pick a different outfit!”
Jumping up from the sofa across from where he sat, she wound her way around the coffee table with ease. Grabbing his face between her two hands with more force than she intended she yelped out, “Az–oh! Sorry. But I need your help.” Planting a quick kiss to his lips, she was already scurrying down the hall before she finished. “Don’t go anywhere. You have to help me pick. Wait there!”
“I’d rather watch,” he shouted back. Her sharp laughter rang back down the hallway. 
Az just chuckled to himself as he heard her rummaging around the tiny closet in her bedroom. Alone in the now quiet living room, he began to think about how much she had changed since he first laid eyes on her. The version of Celeste he had met in a dark tavern was a stark difference to the Celeste that had just bounced off frantically.
She had been working in a shabby tavern on the outskirts of the city. It was where he went when he didn’t want to engage in the ravelry of Rita’s with the rest of his friends. Azriel had quickly picked up on the fact that her feisty attitude with the male customers wasn’t an attempt at playing hard to get or to garner increased tips. As spymaster he recognized it immediately for what it was – a defense mechanism. She piqued his interest like a puzzle he wanted to solve. In typical Azriel fashion however, he kept to the shadows, never approaching her or striking up conversation. Only silently observing. 
It wasn’t until Celeste had met Nesta on one of her nights off years ago, drinking alone at Rita’s, that he had even entertained the possibility of knowing her. Their blossoming friendship had carried her into his circle with increasing frequency until it was nearly every other day that they were in each other's presence for one reason or another.
Azriel’s private struggle over a lack of a mating bond and his terrible habit of choosing unavailable love interests kept him at an emotional distance however. He had joined group nights out and laughed shyly at Celeste’s jokes with others without ever attempting to grab her attention. From the fringe of their friend group he had watched as Celeste transformed from the defensive and harshly playful female he first noticed into a confident, easygoing, empathetic and kind friend.
Once she had begun to discover her healing abilities, Rhys had generously offered to send her to Dawn Court for extensive training. As her time away from Velaris turned from weeks into months, Azriel had begun to realize what was missing from his life. Her. 
Every missed opportunity to approach her on his own and every gap in conversation she had purposely left open to him replayed over and over in his mind. He mentally kicked himself over the fact that he wasted so much time pining over others in the past. 
The week of her return from Dawn, Azriel had commandeered the healer rotation schedule from Madja under “official court business”. The first date that he had seen her name penned on the calendar was when he enacted his plan. One well acted slip during training with Cassian and the priestesses that morning left him with a nasty gash along his forearm and a healer was called to the House of Wind. 
The minute she laid her light supple hands along his deep golden skin he had nearly lost all nerve and backed out entirely. Minutes of silence on his part passed as she cleaned and stitched and bandaged, talking all the while to fill the void. When the last wrap of bandage was taped down and she had started to pack up her supplies, he rushed into action before he could lose his nerve again. 
“Celeste?”
“Hmm?” she purred softly, still packing her things.
“Would you join me for dinner tonight? Just the two of us I mean.” He stammered nervously. “Like – like a date.”
Her hands had stilled atop her bag after clasping it shut before she slowly lifted her gaze to him. Those dark tawny eyes meeting his had sent his pulse into palpitations but the smile that spread across her lovely face had threatened to stop his heart entirely.
She released a laughing sigh that was like the calming breeze after a storm. “I thought you would never ask,” she answered. 
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The best part of the entire plan, according to Celeste, was that Azriel’s someone had already been invited to Solstice dinner well before Rhys and Feyre had extended their invitation through Az. Being a part of Nesta’s circle of girlfriends had left Celeste with a standing invitation for the last few years. 
“Are you sure no one has any idea?” Celeste questioned as she stood by the bed toweling her still wet hair.
“I’m sure about everyone,” he answered, calculating mentally. “Except Nesta. You really don’t think she would tell Cassian first if she thought it was you?”
“Absolutely not,” Celeste insisted. “She would have approached me about it before ever mentioning it to him. I’m positive.”
“And what makes you so sure about that?” He peered at her quizzically.
“Have you ever taken a peek at the books she’s always lending me?” Celeste raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes. The scar that spanned the entirety of her face tightened with her animated expression. “She would have come running to me first for all the details. She would have wanted to know all about—” she pulled her hands apart in front of her before throwing her arms out fully “ — your wingspan.” She flashed a wink before ramping herself up into a fit of giggles. 
Az let out a shocked huff of a laugh before pulling his palm down his face, color rising to his cheeks. “Mother above,” he sighed. 
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Celeste started shooing him off the bed with her towel. “Az, you have to get going. The shop will be closing soon and they said they are holding the rings for us. Go!”
“Alright, alright. I’m going,” he teased with his hands up in playful defense. He pushed himself up to stand and then gracefully swooped his arms around Celeste’s waist, pulling her body against his. “A kiss goodbye at least?”
“You’re coming right back,” Celeste narrowed her gaze in a comical frown but leaned in with sincerity, brushing her mouth gently over his before nipping at his bottom lip. Her eyes darkened with promise, “Hurry.”
The promise of that word hung in the air as Az grabbed his coat and headed out of the apartment. Unfortunately he knew that he wouldn’t be able to join in on that promise, at least not before dinner. He had to stop home for one last thing after the shop and his return would cut it close to when they had timed their departures. 
Kicking off from the cobblestones on the corner in front of the apartment building Az launched into the air. He made quick work of locating the jewelry shop just a short flight away. It wasn’t the one that Rhys often frequented for his mate’s jewels but it was the only one open this late on Solstice night. It didn’t matter to Azriel though, as long as Celeste was happy.
She had gotten this idea in the final hour of their planning, which had forced them to rethink nearly the entire plan. The joy that had radiated from her at the thought of being able to pull it off was well worth the hassle. Azriel had been sent out in search of an open shop that could fulfill their request last minute which luckily didn’t take as long as he thought it would have. A pile of coin and two hours later he was walking out of the shop, the proud owner of two simple and plain gold bands. 
Azriel had insisted that they didn’t have to rush, he would give her the commitment ceremony of her dreams if that’s what she wanted. Celeste had teased him back that he could still do that for her even if their new plan went smoothly. Committing to each other was something they had spoken about before at great length. Their feelings for each other, mating bond or not, were serious and true. 
After arranging the pickup of the rings, she had told him very seriously that this is what she wanted. She didn’t want a huge party or ice sculptures. The fact that this was a surprise to everyone involved was thrilling enough. The only thing she wanted was to declare themselves committed in front of their family and to slip that ring on his finger. Celeste had even proposed the idea to adopt the usual mortal terms of husband and wife. 
“I like the sound of ‘husband’ so much better than ‘partner’,” she had said. “It feels better rolling off the tongue.” 
Azriel’s chin had dipped in a seductive grin. “There are other things I can think of that feel better rolling off the tongue.”
Slipping the newly purchased ring box into his inner coat pocket, Azriel kicked off once more, heading to his townhouse before circling back to meet Celeste one last time. This flight was longer, as he didn’t live in the downtown district like Celeste did, but instead closer to the quieter outskirts of the city. 
He glided smoothly through the drafts above the clouds. The path between the two dwellings was something he knew by muscle memory having flown it so many times over the last many months. Az allowed his mind to wander as it usually did in times of quiet. Spending so much of his life inside his own head had made the habit a hard one to break. 
Celeste’s face alight with excitement was the first thing that popped up. He felt his heart clench as he sifted through all the expressions and laughs she had produced tonight as she plotted out everything. The fact that the reveal of their relationship hadn’t happened until now was not lost on him. It was his hesitancy that had delayed this moment – her moment. The throb of guilt, knowing that he could have allowed Celeste this joy sooner, sent his heart into a squeeze.
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flodaya · 1 day
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Just an observation but Tom has really beautiful hands. Like that promo shot of him sitting on the edge of the stage? Yes the hair is great but yeah. Gorgeous hands.
oh yeah i've noticed that before, hands are the first thing i notice about people*, i also am obsessed how he gets manicures with Z every now and then, men with nice clean hands >>>>>>>>>>
*actually a lie, for women it's legs and then hands, for men it's hands
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pa1n-0f-l0ve · 2 days
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୨ৎ: handjob, sub!bill, 2000s Bill, dom!fem, First person fem POV
୨ৎ: sweet boy
The calm morning gave me motivation to go out shopping for Bill and me, frolic around, go to sex stores, etc. I thought Bill would be okay alone at home in bed, considering the fact he adores sleeping - especially in our soft and giant bed. I expected to see my love all curled up adorably in the blankets, his black hair all over the pillow, his long eyelashes resting on his pretty face.. but no. Instead, I hear soft cries coming from the bedroom.
Concerned - as I obviously should be, I walked to the room down the hall. I saw poor Bill weeping on the pillow, tears adorning his pale, chubby cheeks. “Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask concerned, pushing his choppy layers out of his face as he cried.
Bill wiped at his teary eyes, trying to clear the ducts that blocked his vision. His slender arms wrapped around my waist as he snuggled his head into my chest. “You left me.. and you didn’t leave a letter. I got sc- scared..” he blushes, his chubby little cheeks coated in an all natural coral.
I smile at the cute boy in my bed, his adorable bed head, his natural face, his pretty eyes.. “you must be feeling very submissive today?” I joke, this behavior was out of the ordinary for Bill.
“M- maybe.. can you help me?” He pouts slightly, his brown eyes holding hopefulness behind them. “I- I wanna wear my socks..” he mummers, the embarrassment and vulnerability laced in his voice.
I pet his hair gently before saying, “well good for you, I bought you a new pair for when you bottom!” I tell him. I want to make sure Bill feels all better and loved after being upset earlier.
His brown eyes bright up in pure excitement, a small smile making its way to his slightly plump lips, “really?! Let me see please!” He begged. I reached into one of the bags pulling out a cliché pair of white thigh highs with little satin bows. When I show these to Bill, his small smile grows a little more.
“Here baby boy, let me put them on for you.” I grab his tiny thighs pulling the long socks over them, the white bows adding a nice comparison to his milky skin. I soon take off his shirt and boxers as-well, revealing his flat and pale tummy. His cock springing out on full display slapping against his tiny stomach.
I grasp his cock in one hand, the other unoccupied until his slender and pale one connects with mine. “Aw you wanna hold my hand!” I tease while giggling slightly, Still slightly stroking at his hard member.
“Shut up!” He whines, voice all strained and high pitch due to the attention his cock is receiving from my hand. With each stroke his body jumps slightly, his body thrusting upward on the bed. The cute pale boy melting completely under my touch.
“You’re such a good boy, you look so pretty like this.” I praise, making him feel loved and happy after his upset mood earlier. His soft whimpers and moans getting louder and louder as I continue to fist fuck him. My motions changing paces between fast, slow, and medium.
Bill’s plump lips fall open more, as strings of ‘yes’ and ‘oh’ slip between them. His cute little moans get louder and louder as time goes on. I know the sweet boy is close to cumming right in my palm. His slender, manicured, Hand grips mine tightly as his white seed shoots over my palm and his tummy.
Bill takes his hand out of mine, looking down at the mess he made on his tummy. “Billa go hop in the tub.” I say, petting his hair and giving him princess treatment after all. Bill obeys, walking to the connected bathroom and running his water the way he wants. His thin yet tall body sinks in the pit of the tub, only his neck and head can be seen.
I meet the pretty boy in the bathroom, grabbing the shampoo and squirting it in my hand I start to massage at his scalp. Rubbing in slow motions, my nails slightly digging into his hair. I focus on getting the cute boy all clean before wrapping him in a towel and making sure he’s all cozy in bed for dinner.
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