#pure concentrated daddy material

[y3ager]

MATERIAL GIRL.

— and what do you give the girl who has everything? two rich boyfriends!

jean k. x eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, fluff, polyamorous relationship. socialite!reader. lovergirldeepdown!reader. 4k word count. inspired by this blurb.

HAILING FROM OLD money— your father the CEO of a century old automobile brand and your mother the third generation runway model—you have seen all there is to see, worn what there is to wear, had every priceless stone dangle from your neck and fingers, and tasted the most decadent of foods. the belief that just superficial things would be enough to sway you offends you greatly. if you don’t have it, you will have it as if it’s your right at this point. it takes much more than dinner and a yacht ride to make you squeal.

and that’s what’s so tiring about the whole dating scene. the pool is filled to the brim with arrogant nepotism babies in khaki shorts and sweaters around their shoulders. they’ll never worry about a thing because daddy kisses the ass of this man and mommy grins in the face of that woman, and by god, do they make it known. if another man brags about owning original modigliani pieces over dinner, he’ll be met with an oyster shell to the eye. who are you supposed to be, some bright-eyed influencer? please. check the pedigree.

things changed when you met them, however. one in the summer, and one in the winter.

you were on the jet back home from italy when hitch, a girl you’ve known since you were a tyke, bombarded your phone with messages about christening her new penthouse with a pool party you just had to come to, lest she’d drag you there. after confirming your attendance, you rolled back over in the white leather reclining seat and pulled your silk eye mask back down, making a mental note to get your braids refreshed and place an order for a new bikini.

you’re reborn as a literal doll, the braids on the left side of your head coaxed into an intricate butterfly while the others lay flat against your scalp in faultless rows and hang low to your hipbones. white, white, white everywhere, from the nails, the strappy swimsuit, the miu miu sandals; a beautiful contrasts against your glistening ebon skin dusted with body shimmer for good measure. perfect, as usual.

hitch’s new high rise penthouse is something out of a multimillion dollar budget drama, with its dozens of crystal clear windows and modern interior. sitting far away enough from the city to avoid the hustle and bustle, but close enough to gaze at the twinkling lights, it’s practically a palace for the dreyse corporation heir.

champagne flute filled with 1820 juglar cuvée, you mingle amongst the next generation of the one percent. hitch’s friends, and your friends by proxy you assume, are a breath of fresh air. human.

but there’s one person amongst the gaggle you don’t recognize. from your spot next to the slightly tispy miss dreyse, your dark eyes glance over the rim of your ivory framed sunnies, glass rim tapping absentmindedly against lined, glossed lips. light brown mullet, slightly tanned skin, dark brown eyes...

“hitchie...” your elbow gently bumps into the blonde’s sides, snatching her out of her mild stupor. “who’s that?” you ask innocently, gesturing with your half full flute. it’s casual, inquisitive.

hitch squints a little bit, pure concentration written all over her features as she tries to put a name to the face. “oh!” when the name comes to her, her hand meets the back of your shoulder in a kinda hard slap, totally unintentional, of course. “jean, kirschtein! you know, from-” a hiccup interrupts her introduction, making her burst into a quick giggle. “-the oil company.”

the pieces begin to come together, you know the names all of the elite; the braun’s, the leonhart’s, the ackerman’s, names listed amongst yours and names you close deals with. clans with power, influence, wealth, distinction.

he, jean, is walking over now; casual with an easy stride that shows he’s in no rush, he’s confident. he pays his respects to the girl of the hour, congratulating her on her new playhouse before her attention is diverted by another guest calling her name to get her to come over there. hitch slips off, but not before discreetly tapping your lower back in excitement; an unspoken ‘get him.’

“jean,” he introduces himself, extending his hand in a polite greeting. “i wanted to speak to hitch, but i wanted to talk to you, too. you are breathtaking.” his eyes drink you in, from head to toe, even though they’ve been roaming your frame since you first caught his attention. the heir simply cannot get enough. “but you get told that a lot, yes?”

“thank you.” your lips spread into a small smile, one hand slipping into his larger one as the other pulls off your sunnies, sticking one of the arms down into your top. “i’m ___” jean bore a lean swimmer’s build, dark navy beach shorts hung low on his hips, and his tanned skin decorated with a dusting of faint, brown freckles over his body. years of private villas and yachts, no doubt. he was impossibly tall, too, you find yourself having to gently tilt your head back to see his face fully. it was cute from afar, maturely handsome up close. was that a faint hint of a mustache? it was hot.

jean repeats your name slowly, enjoying the feeling of that line of syllables rolling off his tongue. “i’d love to get to know you more. ___, you’re so beautiful. i have to impress you somehow. name it,” his other hand comes up to rest of top of yours, successfully encasing it in a gentle hold. an excuse to touch you just a little bit more. “i’ll make it happen.”

your smile becomes a grin, and your dark eyes glint mischievously under your delicate lashes. one quick test, because where’s the fun in not initiating one? you just want to see what he’d say, pick at his brain. what sweet words will he spin from his golden cords now? “but jean,” you begin softly, “what if i was the type of girl that liked a man that took control? told me we were doing this, at this time, on this day, and in my prettiest red dress?”

“it’d be rude, ___, at least in my eyes, to so quickly assume i had a right to your time, and drag you around this way and that. allow me the privilege of occupying your time, and space.”

before you can catch it, one of your expertly threaded and sculpted eyebrows quirks up in mild surprise. you beckon him a bit closer to your face with a wave of your acrylics. “good answer,” you tease, honeyed voice playful and whispery. “phone? i can put my number in, and we can talk about how you can try to romance me when i have my schedules laid out in front of me.” you watch as he fishes the device out of his shorts pocket.

you were captivating afar, but up close with your tawny skin soft, glittery, and emanating an intoxicating vanilla scent, your dark eyes glistening with mirth and playfulness… it makes jean’s body go into some type of shock, his heart plummeting to his feet and his blood running cold but racing through his veins at the same time.

“well then,” you chime as you save your digits into the millionaire’s phone, the contact simply your name with no bells or whistles to adorn it. “i hope we can get to know each soon, mr. kirschtein.”

jean thinks that pearly white smile will be the death of him.

…

every year, no matter what, your father throws his annual christmas party. you long assumed that it brings him a special type of happiness because your normally humble father goes all out for them, each year being better than the last. he flies out the best chefs in the world to cook for hours, orders the tallest, greenest tree for the foyer, and has the house cleaned til someone could check their reflection in the perfect marble floors. when it comes to this, the man skimps on nothing.

you take it upon yourself to make the most of it, requesting custom design dresses from the most exclusive sewing tables over in Europe, shoes fresh from the runway. only the very best for you, the heiress, the crème de la crème, the girl who has never known the word no.

“dance with me?”

you had been absentmindedly swirling your wine glass by its delicate stem, attempting to place its origin (red, tart-like with its cranberry flavor and a strange orange bite near the end), when you’re approached. once you turn your head, you’re meet with striking green eyes and a sharp little smile.

“you looked bored, and that’s what these parties are for, right?”

eren yeager, the german-american son of grisha and carla yeager, 2nd generation genius neurosurgeon with a net worth in the 7 figures, and the just-as-talented, third generation wedding gown designer. according to the rumor mill, after graduating in the top of class in one of those ivy’s upstate, he gallivanted across the country (no, the world) as the not-so-favorable yeager son. of course, there are entirely too many eyes on the yeager clan for grisha to do too much of anything and a son can do no wrong in a doting mother’s eyes; so eren is left free to his disagreeable desires. everyone wonders how long that will last.

steely dark eyes and your naturally neutral face does nothing to deter him. you decide to indulge him, slipping your hand into his and raising up, allowing him the luxury of whisking you to the dance floor. “i guess i don’t see why not.”

“great.” his hand is soft and a little cool against your own, the woody, cedar notes of penhaligon the inimitable gently wafting off his skin and pressed shirt. unbeknownst to you, a few pairs of eyes bore into yeager’s back. the arrogance he has to whisk you away so early into the party, especially with it being his first one. if eren was the wiser, he’d revel in their envy.

there’s a handful of other couples waltzing across the floor when you two arrive. your fingers thread through his as his free hand finds a respectful place on your waist, blessed with the feeling of the smooth skin exposed by the opening in your dress.

no matter how much money your father makes, he’s an old black man at heart. old r&b plays from the expensive sound system he had installed, tevin campbell’s can we talk playing through the speakers. the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. nonetheless, you hum nonchalantly to the tune and glide around the floor with your partner.

“i gotta ask, do you enjoy these things? or does your dad put you up to it?” your arm is held above your head and you’re spun around in a quick circle before being guided back to eren’s chest. face still impartial, you nod your head towards your five o clock, the wavy blonde strands dangling from your delicate updo tickling your face. a table teems with gifts for you and you only, bachelors from afar vying for a wisp of your attention with shiny, expensive gifts. they fail to realize that a girl like yourself isn’t so easily bought. but, it’s their money not yours, and few things in life bring you greater joy than pulling ribbon and wrapping paper from luxury brand boxes.

“of course i do. i’m not ‘put up’ to anything. i dress up, i get my presents. what isn’t there to love?” manicured hand splayed across the man’s back, you’re dipped towards the floor. you’re one to give credit where credit is due, yeager is a good dancer; the confidence in his movements isn’t a lame front and he maintains the delicate balance between taking the lead and dragging his poor partner around. since this is suddenly an interview, you have questions of your own. “when i have time to go through them, will i find your name on anything?”

“of course you will. be pretty damn rude to show up to a party empty handed. especially when it might be my only chance to get a gift for the princess.” a name your normally cringe and scrunch your nose at sounds surprisingly nice passing by his lips. he grinned boyishly. “no hints.”

“i can wait. for your sake, i hope it’s no ring. it’s going straight into the garbage.” just the thought of such a “present” makes your blood want to boil. who raised these “men”? i mean honestly, what brain dead fool buys a ring for a girl who didn’t even know his face? and expected her to wear it? you would sooner die and go to hell first.

“no way someone is that dumb. you’re fucking with me.”

“what do i have to lie for?”

"well, taking a look at these guests, i take it back. some of these bastards look dumb enough to pull a stunt like that." eren scans the array of guests over your shoulder, and you can't even feign offense for your father's sake. scanning over a guestlist for former flames and explaining why you didn't want them in attendance would take too much time, and you really didn't feel like explaining "relationship troubles" to your dad of all people. loved him as much as you did that really wasn't his business. besides, watching them shiver and skulk away from your disinterested and annoyed glance made up for everything. "are you a betting woman?"

"did you waste grisha's money on a degree in journalism?" your eyebrows furrow and eren laughs again.

"you're funny, ___. most of our peers aren't so witty. and if it so pleases her majesty, i want to bet on the odds of one of these dumbasses putting a ring under your tree." eren's green eyes stare down into yours, gleaming with playfulness, mirth, and confidence. "what do you say? someone does, and we can go on a date, just us two, and you can smile and laugh a little bit."

"and if there's no ring?"

"i'll leave you alone and fall in place in your long string of broken hearts."

luck has always been on your side. look at the family you were in born in, the riches that are your birthright! the universe has never dealt you a bad hand and surely wouldn’t start now. and worse case scenario, you hang out with one of the few men that can mark your plump lips twitch in the shadow of a giggle. “fine.” your brown eyes meet his green, and neither of the waver. “deal.”

several days later, gifts from around the globe surround you. handbags, shoes, dresses, envelopes bursting with cash; you’ll have to tell your dad you need some walls knocked down in your already spacious closet to make room for more. amidst all this, though, a godforsaken ring is gripped between your fingers. if looks could kill, it would melting and dripping from your grasp. holding it like it’s contaminated, you snap a picture to send to yeager:

‘i’m free the 3rd weekend and tuesdays.’

…

as temperatures rise again, you spend the next few months allowing jean kirstein and eren yeager the luxury of whisking you away when your schedule permits.

the former is a bit... old fashioned, in a good way! you're led off to slow paced, cozy dates; the two of you roaming italian streets, attending shows in their original opera houses, he never strayed you out of the bubble you two were born in. it was casual, soft, predictable in a good way.

eren on the other hand, spent money like it would burn through his pocket if it sat there too long. he spent money like a man who just felt its crispness in his palms and was addicted to the feeling, knowing deep down it'd never stop flowing for him. you're frequenting the night scene in your tight, revealing dress, his firm hands on your hips as you two grind to the pounding beats. shopping spree dates that lasted all day, if your hand so much as brushed it, it was bought, packaged up, and in the car. spontaneous flights abroad, stealing you away for weekends. it was exhilarating.

they both provide the things you're looking for. jean is the type of man you imagine yourself settling down with one day, when the whole young and turnt shtick melts away into something more domestic and slow paced. he has gentle hands and treats you so delicately, softly. his reliability will be something you can learn to lean on and need.

eren could possibly be that type of man too, but for now he has a fire, impulses that keep you oh so entertained. having everything in the world gets boring, and eren brings that spark that you crave.

you ruminate at your vanity. hair tied down and tucked away under a silky soft bonnet, you run your gua sha across your moisturized face, long sweeping strokes that end with a gentle tug. eye masks rest on your face, your feet clothed by a exfoliating mask, and a fluffy robe envelopes your body. you stare at your reflection, you're the only one who gets you.

you're really at a crossroads. you choosing between something is unheard of. you're ___, you get everything you deserve and want tenfold. you like jean, you like eren. the way they look at you with such adoration, how their hands and lips caress your body, the sweets words they declare, and how every promise they've made to you remains unbroken, oh how they must certainly feel the same for you.

as greedy as it may make you sound, you want both. your cake and to eat it too. two of your richest peers fawning over you day in and day out, them caring for you and you caring for them. them loving you, and you loving them. it’s a dream that will be your reality.

…

after a long day at sea on one of many jean’s yachts, the sun beaming down on not only the beautiful blue water but the two of you, entangled in each other’s arms, docks at the private harbor.

you’re running your fingers through your french curl braids as jean talks to one of the dock’s attendees, slightly sleepy from your sunbathing session. the gentle breeze of the day brings the smell of saltwater up to your nostrils and you hear seagulls squawking from spots on the wooden posts. obviously, a day at the water leaves you craving seafood, juicy lobster tails with a decadent pasta on the side. your daydreams of the soon to be dinner are interrupted by an extremely familiar “yo!”

heads turn, and it’s none other than eren striding across the dock’s walkway towards where you and jean are standing. his green eyes shine at the sight of you, the hot pink of your two piece bikini a perfect contrast to your skin and showing curves and bends he’d worship for the rest of his life. oh, and jean’s here too.

another woman might falter, her heart catching in her throat and sweat beading up on her flesh as her suitors stand before her, but you’re the epitome of calm, brown eyes smoothly meeting eren’s. there’s no ring on your finger, and besides, you know what you’re after right now.

“haven’t seen you in a while, yeager.” knowing it’d be cliche, jean fights against the urge to wrap a protective arm around your waist. “done gallivanting the world?”

“seen all there is to see kirschtein, and you say that like it’s insult. what use is money if it just sits in accounts collecting dust.” eren looks at you again, god you’re a sight for sore eyes. “especially when there’s a woman like her to spend it on.”

jean’s eyes can’t help but to roll. what a cornball. “well, good chat, but ___ and i are on a little time crunch. i’m taking her to niccolo’s, especially after being on the water.” his hand slips into yours, taking charge but not tugging you along. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

“well, now that you mention it, i could go for some niccolo’s too.” eren’s grin is shit-eating. what a cute dynamic these too have, one you know has a bit more bite to it when a lady isn’t in their presence. “how about i join? matter of fact, my treat.”

“that won’t be necessary.”

“i insist.”

“you two would argue all day if i let you,” you interrupt this small tussle, and now their attention is back on you. a manicured hand raises up to cover your small yawn. “like an old married couple.”

“it’s all in good fun,” eren’s shoulder nudges jean, and if jean had lasers for eyes, the youngest heir to yeager fortune would be a pile of dust before your feet. “we go way back.”

jean ignores him entirely, but eren finds it hilarious. “what he’s suggesting is insane, ___.”

you give a gentle shrug of your shoulder, coyness at the ready. “it’s nothing serious, it’s a lunch date between friends, and i bet you’d like to catch up.”

jean’s jaw tenses. he turns to you completely as eren looks on curiously. “i think it’s a sign that you say that, ___. i’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while. yes, we are friends, but i want to be more with you.”

this moment, with the waves crashing across the dock, the sun illuminating the two of you, jean clasping your hands tight, would’ve been a soft, tender, picturesque one had it not been for eren’s booming laughter.

“oh, so now this is a pissing contest, huh, jean? well, since we’re confessing feelings, i have my own to speak for you.” his outburst breaks your gaze, and you and jean both turn in unison. “___, i want you to be my girlfriend, and i’ve felt this way for a while. i’ve been waiting for just the perfect moment, but i can’t let this jack-off take this one for himself right?” comically, you’re put between them, each of your hands in theirs.

“i…” this takes tact, a delicate way of stringing together words and honestly, with their eyes boring into yours, you find yourself falling just a touch short.

“i respect any decision you make,” jean assures.

“___, i will do anything for you,” eren promises.

any decision. anything.

you bit your bottom lip, hands minutely twitching in their clasp. you lean in neither direction, at the center of them. “any?”

and then there’s a beat of silence. and everyone’s looking at each other. this feels like a scene in a sitcom, something that should be accompanied with a laugh-track, but there’s no closed mouth that’s been fed.

“because in the time i’ve gotten to know both of you, i’ve begin to care for both of you. and i’ve made great memories with the two of you. i know i could make even more. i don’t value any time spent with you over each other’s.” your voice shakes just a tiny, tiny bit, vulnerability creeping in. “you too make me… so happy.”

eren cuts the silence first, ever the impulsive one. “i’ll do it.”

“you cut me off,” jean quickly interjects. eren really puts him on his toes, ignites an aggressive fire deep within, steps on just the right nerves. “i’m doing it too.”

“i said i’d do anything.”

“and i said i’d respect any decision.”

“okay!” you voice crashes down like a gavel. “okay. i’m glad that you two are hearing me out,” a smile tugs at your glossed lips, this feels so easy and lighthearted, a stark contrast from the seriousness you impose upon yourself. already, you feel yourself loosening up, because the two of them bring out the true, relaxed you like nothing else can. “but for our sanity the bickering needs to come down a notch before we all kill each other, yeah?”

two strong pairs of arms envelop you. it takes some effort, but you wrap your own around the two of them. three heads together, you find yourselves laughing. a weight eases of your shoulders, but not because you got your way, but because you know this is the death of a mask created by the circle you were born in. a mask that hides the love you can feel in an attempt to guard it.

“well, we won’t kill you.”

nov 13. 2021. nov 9. 2023. i nearly gave up. i almost threw in the towel. but goddammit she’s done. praise god.

#eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean x black reader #🏙.aotmodern #🧸.aotfluff

[sequinsmile-x]

I Want Your Midnights

Emily, Aaron and their children go to a New Year's Eve party at Elizabeth's.

-x-

Happy New Year, besties!! <3

This was meant to be pure fluff, but turned into your classic Vic 'complicated family dynamics/hurt comfort/fluff' kind of thing.

I'd apologise, but we all know this is what I do.

I hope you all have 2023 you deserve, and I love you all very much! Here's to another year of stories about our favourite idiots in love.

-x-

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: None!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily looks herself up and down in the mirror, mentally picking out anything her mother could comment on. She’d taken time to curl her hair so it fell loose around her shoulders, the dark strands complimenting the dark green of her dress. It was off the shoulder and tight to her waist, the material flowing out from there to her knees. 

She knew her outfit would drive Aaron crazy, softly smiling at herself at the thought of her husband trying to keep his hands to himself in front of their kids and her mother. It was Elizabeth’s annual New Year’s Party and for the first time in a few years, they weren’t able to get out of going despite Emily’s best efforts. The fact that their daughter, Linnea, was only four and therefore too young for this kind of event wasn’t even enough to get them out of it as it had been for the previous few years. Elizabeth claimed that Emily had managed perfectly fine at that age, and she couldn’t bring herself to argue that she shouldn’t have had to. 

“Well,” she says to herself, smoothing down the material of her dress, “That’s as good as it’s going to get.” 

Emily turns around at the sound of the door opening, smiling at the sight of her husband and Linnea together, the little girl perched on his hip. She was wearing a dress in the same shade of green as Emily was, and her hair was in two perfect braids. She’d insisted that Aaron did it for her, claiming that he was better than Emily was, something she knew her husband was proud of. She still remembered finding him watching tutorials online on how to do hair just days after they found out they were having a girl, a look of concentration on his face that she recognised from work. Aaron was in one of his suits, simply having changed his tie since he finished work, and despite the fact she saw him in them every day it still made her stomach swoop. 

“Look at you two,” she says, walking over to them as she finishes clipping in her earring, “You look so pretty, baby,” Emily says, smiling at her daughter, adjusting one of the braids that was lying on her shoulder, “Daddy did a good job with your hair.”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss his wife’s cheek, “You look beautiful,” he says, looking her up and down, his eyes lingering on how her dress accentuated her chest, a necklace he’d bought her for Christmas with the kid's names engraved on it laying just beneath her collarbone. When their eyes meet again she’s smirking at him, highly aware of the effect she had on him as usual, “Doesn’t Mommy look pretty, Nea?”

“Momma always pretty!” She exclaims, reaching out for her. Emily takes her gladly, kissing her daughter’s forehead as she settles her on her hip.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” Emily replies, she looks back at Aaron, “is Jack almost ready?” 

He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a voice from down the hallway, “Dad, I need help with my tie.” 

Emily and Aaron exchange a smile, “I’ll go help him,” he says, “Meet you two downstairs.” 

She nods as she watches him go, before turning back to look at her reflection in the mirror one more time. She smiles at the image of her and her daughter together, truly a mini version of herself. Linnea looked exactly like her, to the point where Aaron often joked she’d cloned herself, right down to her nose. It was something she’d lamented at first, not helped by a comment from Elizabeth the first time she met Linnea that had driven her to tears, but she loved it now. Never more at peace with what had once been her biggest insecurity now she saw it every day on her daughter’s beautiful face. 

“We need to get going, huh?” Emily sighs, feeling the usual tightness at the thought of spending an evening with her mother building in her chest, she blows out a slow breath as she turns to leave their bedroom. 

“Gram’ma!” Linnea exclaims, her innocent exuberance enough to ease some of her anxiety as her smile spreads over her face. 

Elizabeth loved Jack and Linnea, the affection she easily gave them was something Emily had spent so much of her early life craving. She swallowed down the slight jealousy she felt guilty for feeling whenever she saw them interacting, a small amount of resentment thrumming through her blood that her mother seemed to have changed for them. Or worse, that she had always been capable of it all along but hadn’t been that way for her. 

She’d only ever dared to say it out loud to Aaron, a quiet admittance in the safety of his embrace one night after the kids were in bed. He’d been quick to assure her there was nothing wrong with feeling that way, that it was understandable. He’d only frowned at her, his disagreement firm and fast, when she said she thought feeling that way made her a bad mother. He was always sure to remind her how much their children loved her, how it was her they always sought out.

It’s something she’s reminded of as Linnea snuggles into her embrace, additional evidence Emily didn’t need that her daughter would be asleep long before they left Elizabeth’s. Her fingers soft against Emily’s skin as she idly traces the neckline of her dress. 

“Yes sweetheart,” she says, forcing a smile for her daughter as she adjusts her hold on her as she heads for the stairs, “Grandma.”

___

“Your mother is on top form tonight,” Aaron says as he stands next to her, his arm around her waist as he passes her a much-needed glass of champagne.

It had only clicked in her head when they arrived that her mother was up for re-nomination as Ambassador early in the new year. In the chaos of work and Christmas and everything that came with it, it had slipped Emily’s mind. She remembered feeling like she was on display when she was young, like she was something her mother could show off to the people who made the decisions about where they’d live for the next few years. 

She’d recognised the look on Elizabeth’s face when they arrived, the slight tension only Emily would see as she worried about the night going perfectly. As if her re-nomination wasn’t almost guaranteed just like it always had been. She realised the moment they arrived why they’d had to come this year. Emily and her family were an important commodity to Elizabeth in moments like this, and it made her feel nauseous, wanting nothing more than to turn around and take them all home. 

“Yes she is,” Emily replies, leaning into him, her eyes fixed on Jack and Linnea who were dancing on the small dancefloor that had been set up in what was usually the, very large, dining room at Elizabeth’s house. The kids were the centre of attention of Elizabeth’s friends and colleagues as the little girl stood carefully on her brother's feet, the two of them moving as one. Emily swallows a sip of her champagne at the sight of it, “At least we know why she was insistent we came now.” 

He knew how she felt about this, how she’d been clear since the start that she had hard boundaries with her mother when it came to the kid's place in her political life. It was something he supported, well aware of how Emily felt about these aspects of her childhood. He’d seen the disappointment flicker across Emily’s face when it became clear that they’d been invited for a reason this year. That their usual excuses of having a young family weren’t enough for Elizabeth this time as she insisted Jack and Linnea come along too. 

If he hadn’t made a promise to his wife years ago to never get involved in between them, when an argument between her and her mother had almost reached boiling point just days before their wedding, he would try and talk to Elizabeth. To force her to acknowledge the upset that he did not believe she could miss entirely, no matter how good Emily was at covering it. His relationship with his mother-in-law was pleasant enough, but he struggled to keep his mouth shut sometimes as he watched her actions impact his wife. But he’d never broken a promise to Emily, and he had no intention of starting now, not when all she needed was for him to be there for her. 

Aaron sighs sadly and kisses the side of her head, holding her closer, “We can go home if you want,” he offers, and she pulls back to look at him, a soft smile on her face, “I’ll fake a work call. Take the blame for why we have to go.” 

Her smile widens, and she leans in to kiss him, tasting the champagne on his lips before she pulls away. 

“And I love you for that,” she replies, turning to look back at the kids, “But at this point, it’s just easier to stay.” 

He’s not entirely sure he agrees with that but is cut off from saying anything else at Jack and Linnea running over to them, the little girl beaming with excitement.

“Dance with Daddy,” she demands, already ineffectively pulling at his hand as she tries to drag him to the dancefloor. 

Aaron exchanges a smile with his wife before putting down his drink, pressing a kiss to her cheek before he steps away. 

“Duty calls,” he quips, letting their daughter lead him away for a second before he picks her up, heaving into his arms in a way that makes her giggle. 

Despite everything she can’t help but smile as she watches them together. Both laughing as Aaron makes a big deal of spinning them around, Linnea’s tiny hand grasped around two of his fingers as she sits happily on his hip. 

“Emily?” Jack asks, gaining her attention. “Do you want to dance?” He looks slightly nervous, as if he’s embarrassed to even be asking her. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling too widely, all too aware of how the 12-year-old would react if she did. He spent less and less time with them these days, on the cusp of being too cool for them, so she’d take every chance she could. 

“I’d love to, honey,” she says, taking another sip of her drink before placing her glass down on the table next to Aaron’s. 

She laughs with her son as they dance next to Linnea and Aaron, and for a moment she can’t find a reason to care why her mother had invited them this evening.

___

Emily yawns as she paces back and forth in her mother’s office, readjusting a sleeping Linnea in her arms as she checks her watch. 

11.03 pm. 

Linnea had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, as predicted, and Emily and Aaron had taken it in turns with her. Switching out who sat with her as she slept whilst the other spent time with Jack at the party. Elizabeth’s office was far away enough that it was quiet, but Emily could still hear the rumblings of the music, of the conversations between the many guests. 

“Not too long to go and then we can go home,” she whispers to her sleeping daughter as she sits down on the couch Elizabeth kept in the office, securing Linnea against her, “Then we can get you into bed.” 

The door opens, briefly making the noise from the party louder, and Emily looks up. Elizabeth is standing in the doorway, a confused look on her face. 

“Emily, what-” she starts at full volume, before Emily puts her finger over her lips, nodding down at Linnea fast asleep against her chest, her little fist somehow still tight around the necklace she was wearing. Elizabeth nods and closes the door, “Sorry,” she says quieter, walking over to join them on the couch, “What are you doing in here?” 

“Nea fell asleep,” she replies, “Aaron and I are taking turns sitting with her.” 

“You could always put her in one of the bedrooms upstairs,” Elizabeth offers, “Then you could come back out and join the party, there are some people you knew when you were younger who would love to speak to you.” 

Emily has to clench her teeth to stop herself from saying something she knew she’d later regret, and she instead fixes a smile on her face that Aaron often told her she only used in two situations - with her mother, or when an unsub tried to outsmart her. 

“It’s fine,” she replies, looking down and pushing some hair off of Linnea’s face, “I wouldn’t want her to wake up somewhere strange and be afraid.” 

She allows herself the subtle dig, the small reminder that the kids didn’t spend enough time at Elizabeth’s house to know where they were. Especially during the holidays when it was decorated like it was,  furniture moved around to make events like tonight possible. Elizabeth clearly picks up on it and sits up a little straighter. 

“I’m sure that's a bit of an overreaction,” Elizabeth says, her voice slightly clipped, “She’s old enough to-”

“She’s four, Mother,” Emily says, a little harsher than she intended to, and she blows out a steady breath before she continues, “She’s four, and even if that is an overreaction, I don’t want to leave her alone with a house full of mostly strangers.” 

“You always managed quite well.” 

Emily doesn’t know how to respond to that, can’t bring herself to say anything that wouldn’t sound like a damnation of her mother’s own parenting choices. So she brushes it off and moves the conversation along quickly. 

“Yeah well…” she drifts off, looking back down at her daughter, “I guess times are different now.” 

“I guess they are,” Elizabeth replies, clearing her throat as she holds back her own comments, and they fall into a silence that feels tense. The laughter from the party feels like an inappropriate backing track to a difficult moment between mother and daughter. “Still,” she says, smiling at her granddaughter, who looked so much like Emily did at that age, “It’s a shame, she was quite the hit out there.” 

Emily wasn’t going to mention it, not tonight, but she feels her entire body go tense at her mother’s comment, only made worse by the way Elizabeth sighs at her, her eye roll almost audible. 

“Come on, Emily,” she says, no small amount of irritation in her voice, “You know how these things work, it hasn’t been that long since you came to one of these parties. And you thought it too, you took photos of Linnea and Aaron dancing together.”

“Yes, because she’s my kid and he’s my husband,” she replies, her jaw tight as she swallows thickly, turning to look at her mother, “Not because I think it looks good to have us here to people about to make decisions about your career,” she stares at Elizabeth who falls into silence, a tiny amount of embarrassment at being caught out, “It’s like you forget what I do for a living.” 

“Emily-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, cutting over whatever excuse her mother had come up with, “I made it very clear I didn’t want my children involved in this kind of thing,” she sighs, grateful for the weight of her daughter in her arms to ground her, “I know you love them, Mom, I do. But they aren’t…ornaments you can just put on display to make you look good. I won’t let you do that to them.” 

Elizabeth stutters uncharacteristically, and she frowns, “I would never…”

“That’s exactly what happened tonight isn’t it?” Emily reasons with her, her frustration dying down as she realises her mother had likely never really thought about it that way, or at least never considered how it felt to be on the other side of it, “It’s what I was always paraded around at these things for,” she smiles sadly, “Or at least that's how it felt.” 

“You never said you felt like that.” 

“I was a kid,” she says, shrugging slightly, “You never asked.” She keeps looking at Elizabeth, and she knows she’s somewhat gotten through to her, that for the first time in a long time she isn’t acting as if her concerns are unfounded, but there’s still resistance there. This was something they’d never fully agree on, too much time and hurt feelings between them, “I’m not looking for an apology for any of that, Mother,” she says, knowing at this stage even if she got one it wouldn’t make any difference, “I’m just asking that you respect what Aaron and I want for Jack and Nea.” 

Elizabeth nods slowly, “I can do that,” she replies, looking down and checking her watch as she stands, “I should get back out there.” 

Emily smiles tightly, some of the unease that had built in her chest relieved. She’d never have the relationship with her mother that she already had with her own kids, something she had curated with such care so they’d never feel like she did, but she could live with that. She’d built a family out of nothing, with no real frame of reference, and it was something she was proud of. 

“If I don’t see you before midnight, Happy New Year,” Emily says, and Elizabeth smiles at her, leaning down to press a kiss to Emily’s cheek.

“Happy New Year,” she turns to leave before looking back at the two of them, unable to stop her smile when she sees Emily’s focus is already all back on Linnea, “Emily?” She waits until she looks up, a curious look on her face, “You’re a fantastic mother. Linnea and Jack are very lucky.”

Emily smiles at the genuine compliment, something that was rare coming from Elizabeth, and she feels her cheeks go warm with it. 

“Thank you.”

___

It’s only a few minutes until midnight when the door opens again, and she smiles as Jack and Aaron walk into the room. 

“What are you two doing here?” She asks quietly, smiling when Jack joins her on the couch, careful not to jostle his sister too much. 

“We thought we’d come to see the New Year in with you,” Aaron explains as he walks over, passing one of the glasses of champagne he’s holding as he sits on her other side, leaning in to kiss her. 

“That’s sweet,” she replies, stamping another kiss against his lips. He smiles down at Linnea, still fast asleep against her mother’s chest, and he stokes the soft skin of her cheek. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather start the year with.” He says, smiling at her in a way that never fails to make her stomach flip. 

“You guys are gross,” Jack says as he rests his head on her shoulder, cutting off her response to her husband. 

“Sorry honey,” she says, sounding anything but as she shares a small smile with her husband before she turns to Jack, “You tired?” He nods against her, already sleepy and she kisses his forehead as she wonders how he’d stayed awake this long, “We’ll go home soon.” 

Jack hums in response and settles further into her side. She looks up at her husband and he leans down to kiss her again. 

“I know this might sound insane,” she says, “But I missed you tonight.” 

Aaron smiles at her, “I missed you too,” he looks down at Linnea, “Both of you,” he pauses for a moment, “Are you ok?” 

She sighs and takes a sip of her champagne, looking over her shoulder to see Jack had fallen asleep against her. 

“He’s going to be so mad, he got so close to midnight this year,” she quips, looking back at Aaron, and she sees the understanding in his eyes, how he silently acknowledges her attempt to deflect.  “I got into it a little with her,” she admits, her smile shaking a bit, “I think she gets it now though, or at least she’ll try to respect what we want for the kids.” 

“That’s good,” he replies, “Isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” she says, nodding as she smiles sadly, “It is. I just…I just wish she could have done it for me.” 

Aaron takes her glass from her and leans forward to place it with his on the table in front of them. Then he settles back next to her, wrapping his arms around her and the kids. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he replies, “And I do too, you deserve to have had what you give Nea and Jack,” She lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a laugh, shaking her head at him. “It’s true, they are lucky to have you.” 

She smiles sadly, “That’s what my Mother said.” 

He smiles at her, the sound of the party starting to count down to midnight in the background. 

“Finally, something me and her agree on,” he replies, and she laughs properly this time, leaning her forehead against his. “I love you.” 

She kisses him, “I love you too.” 

Things may never be exactly as she wants with her Mother, and she knows it went both ways. That she was never the daughter Elizabeth would have wanted, her expectations way too high from the start. Leading to Emily pushing boundaries as early as she was old enough to understand what they were. It was a relationship that would never be what either of them wanted, but Emily knew she would find peace with that. That she’d protect her family from what she’d missed out on, that she’d make sure her daughter and her son had everything she’d grown up wishing she’d had. 

She hears the countdown hit zero, the party all celebrating New Year. 

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Aaron says, and she smiles at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Happy New Year.” 

-x-

Tag list:

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction

[aplacetosharemyfics]

The Downfall of Susan St. Clair : The First Meeting

Maisie didn’t like going to the drive-in.

------------

The night air was surprisingly cool, even though it was only a couple of days into fall. Maisie had anticipated the cool evening and had dressed appropriately. Her thick woollen cardigan, drawn closely around her chest, was keeping her nice and toasty. That didn’t mean she wasn’t jealous of the other girls, their invincibility against the cold allowing them to parade around in their best dresses, pale arms exposed to the night air and makeup immaculate on their faces. But she could never perfect eyeliner, and she couldn’t convince herself to undo even one button of her cardigan. It was if, she mused, they were a completely different species.

She was barely through the gates when a car full of hollering boys pulled in. Passing a little too closely for comfort, the noises around her suddenly seemed to increase three-fold, drumming into her ears with the pure intention of pain. Breathing deeply, Maisie tried concentrating on the ground at her feet. Panicking would only make things worse. But a well-timed honk from a nearby car sent her into flight mode. Pressing her hands over her ears until the nails dug into her scalp, Maisie hurried towards the bathroom block. With mere instincts leading her, it was no wonder she didn’t notice when someone stepped into her path.

“Ow!”

Maisie’s hand was ripped from her ear as her shoulder was forced backwards by the collision. In that split second, Maisie found her attention drawn away from the surrounding noise and to something slightly closer. Susan St. Clair, the most popular girl in Rydell High. A single look could send boys swooning and girls gushing. And that look was glaring at her. It was Susan that she had unknowingly walked into.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Susan tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked away. Maisie watched her leave, taking in her outfit. It was purely jealousy, the reason for her looking. Susan’s jeans, tight fitting to show off every curve of her long legs, were made of thicker material than any tights that could be worn under a skirt. Her shirt might show off as much tanned skin as possible, but the soft jacket over top covered the most delicate parts of the skin. In conclusion, her outfit showed off everything while also keeping her warmer than even Maisie. Of course, she was jealous.

An empty bucket of popcorn flying past her head broke Maisie out of her thoughts. It bounced harmlessly on the gravel. Turning, Maisie quickly ducked as another bucket was thrown towards her. The seats in front of the concession stand were filled with laughing Football Jocks. Straightening up, Maisie eyed the popcorn sitting on their laps. Surely, they weren’t going to waste popcorn on her.

“Make sure you avoid this one too!”

She had underestimated how much a couple of dollars worth of popcorn meant to them. After all, Daddy’s money was enough to buy the entire drive-in without risking a dent. As the bucket span through the air, a spray of popcorn flew out from within. Maisie raised her arms, covering her face as popcorn rained down upon her. The bucket collided halfway through the barrage; the sharp corner of the paper receptacle crashed into her forearm. A roar of laughter erupted from around her as more people sacrificed their popcorn for the social spectacle. By the time she made it to the bathroom, her cardigan was greasy from the constant bombardment of buttered popcorn.

Maisie rubbed the soap deep into her palms as the water ran. The incident would be forgotten by tomorrow, but she couldn’t get the laughter out of her head. Biting back anger, she let the warm water run over her hands, washing the soap away. What she wouldn’t give for the water to wash away the pain as well.

“What did you want to tell me?”

The door was thrust open. Maisie rushed into the nearest stall, hands still wet, as multiple bodies entered the small restroom. Slowly, with her elbow, Maisie pushed the door shut, willing it to stay silent. They hadn’t spotted her so far.

“We saw Brainy Janey!”

The incident might be forgotten by tomorrow, but it would still be at the front of peoples’ minds tonight. The door wasn’t quite closed yet.

“In Buddy’s jacket!”

Finally, the door was closed, and Maisie was able to slide the lock into place.

“Wait …”

Maisie twitched, her ears pricking up.

“Jane Facciano?”

It wasn’t just any group of girls outside her cubicle. It was Susan.

“Are you sure it was Buddy’s jacket?”

Maisie nodded – all the jackets appeared to be identical. But she had underestimated the powers of popular girls.

“Definitely.”

Apparently, they could tell the difference over a distance, when worn by someone else, and in poor lighting.

“Absolutely.”

Maisie tried wiping her hands on her skirt, only to discover a piece of popcorn. Flicking it away, she flinched at the sound of it skittering over the tiled floor. But the girls had other things on their minds.

“And someone saw her kissing Buddy!”

Everyone gasped, Maisie quickly covering her mouth when she realized she’d joined in.

“He was supposed to be mine,” Susan said through tears.

The blubbering went on for a while, with pauses to fix makeup. Maisie had started counting the tiles. As she counted the 312th tile – though she was pretty sure she’d gotten lost around 150 and skipped some numbers – the door was pushed open. Maisie quickly pressed her eye against the crack in the door while the attention was directed away from her. It was Jane Facciano. The girl of the rumours. Who’d stolen Susan’s boyfriend And who definitely hadn’t expected to find Susan crying in the toilets.

“Dot, don’t be rude!”

Susan quickly berated her friend for a hateful comment, putting on a strong voice to compliment Jane. She was stronger than some boy, even if he had broken her heart. Followed by her friends, she left Jane alone in the bathroom.

Jane was a typical busybody – someone who wanted to make things better for everyone while also drawing more attention toward people who’d rather stay in the shadows. She most probably didn’t notice the incident earlier. Making every effort to be as loud as possible, Maisie exited the stall and started to rinse her hands. She kept her eyes low; she didn’t need to catch Jane’s attention. Only when she turned to dry her hands did she glance up at Jane, noting the shocked expression on her face was covering the confusion from her encounter with Susan.

Sliding out of the bathroom door, Maisie checked her surroundings. The film was starting, and a roar of approval rocked the parking lot as the credits started to play. But she already felt like she’d already watched a feature-length film, her heart beating too quickly in her chest. There was only so much drama one person could handle in an evening.

------------

Her mother was waiting in the living room when she returned.

“You’re home early.”

Of all the evenings for her mother to actually be home, it had to be this one. Biting back a rude remark, she brought an innocent smile to her face. There had been a deal riding on her attending this event.

“The movie finished early.”

Her mother twisted around, reading the old clock on the dresser. Maisie swallowed.

“It finished an hour early?”

Should she make up a lie about a fight breaking out? God, she wished she’d walked the streets in the chilling night air for a little longer.

“Well, what happened? What was your favourite scene?”

Maisie bit her lip. Her mother knew she was lying. And she couldn’t even remember the name of the movie she was meant to be watching.

“It was a high school drama,” she said, confidently.

If she could give enough details, her mother couldn’t refute her claims.

“A new girl arrived at an unfriendly little town where she tries to make friends. But the students don’t like new things, so they bully or ignore her. It ends with the star football player falling in love with her and breaking up with his status-driven girlfriend.”

Her mother was nodding along, the amused look on her face suggesting she was second-guessing herself.

“My favourite scene was …”

Maisie trailed off. Jane and Susan facing off? That moment when everyone realizes they must like Jane or else? She swallowed.

“When the football player started to fall in love. They bumped into each other in the hall, and he found his eyes following her as she left.”

Maisie found herself describing her own experience with Susan, the sight of the tall blonde strutting away floating in front of her eyes.

“Sounds a sweet film.”

Shaking the image out of her head, Maisie nodded.

“I’m going to head to bed.”

She ran up the stairs before her mother could stop her, tugging the greasy cardigan from her arms as she climbed. Her room was quiet. The offending cardigan was dumped on the ground, the coins retrieved from its pockets and placed on the dresser. It had been meant for popcorn – a peace offering from her mother. Climbing into bed, pulling the covers over her head so everything descended into darkness, Maisie breathed. She had survived.

----------

Maisie didn’t like going to the drive-in.

#susan st clair #grease #grease rotpl #grease rise of the pink ladies #rise of the pink ladies #rotpl #maisie james #the downfall of susan st. clair

[filthyfirth]

Colin Firth at the Green Carpet Fashion Awards 2020

#green carpet fashion awards #gcfa 2020 #gcfa #colin firth #i cant even believe i managed to post this #god has listened to me #ok also #HE LOOKS SO GOOD #SO FRESH #oh my god this dude shouldnt be looking this fine he is 60 #help me colin #the daddyness is off the the roofs #the hairrrr so soffffttttt #i wanna pat it and sleep on it #and ugh #just fuck me up man #pure concentrated daddy material #filthyfirth #my gifs #my edit #event

[bostongirl13]

Flannel and glasses

Summary: Chris has a really hard time concentrating when wearing his clothes... and glasses.

Warnings: smut (pure porn actually), dirty talk, blowjob, pain kink, rough sex, daddy kink, choking, glasses kink, fluffy ending +18

Words: 1.4+

Masterlist 

Chris tried to focus on reading the script, he really tried. But the way you bit your lower lip, the way the tip of the pencil touched your lips, the fact that you were wearing his flannel shirt and only this, made it impossible for him. Plus his pants got tighter and tighter as you bent over the table and propped your breasts up, making them perfectly round and close together. You, on the other hand, were unaware of anything, focusing on the notes and sketch of the graphic design that you had to prepare for work.

It was unknown how long, and Chris was still on the same page, reading the same sentences over and over again. And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, you decided to get up and go to the kitchen for the water which made you give him a perfect view of your half-covered butt and black lace panties.

Chris growled trying to correct himself on the couch which caught your attention. A smirk crossed your face at the tent in his pants that he was trying to get rid of.

"Need a helping hand?" you said tilting your head and looking at him, letting a drop of water run from your mouth and run down your neck and disappear between your breasts.

"You think you're so smart, little minx? Come here." Chris's voice tightened, making you shiver at his confidence and firmness. So you did as he said. You approached him, standing between his legs and letting his large hand slide over your bare thigh. Your pussy tightened around nothing, knowing what was about to come. Chris knew you well enough to know what he was doing to you now. And although it seemed at first that you had power over him, now the roles have changed. "Get on your knees," he said in a low voice accepting no objection. 

And you did what he told you. Again. You knelt between his legs, resting your hands on his thighs. You moved it towards his crotch and started massaging the bulge. And considering he was wearing sweatpants, it wasn't that hard. He was big and hard, you could feel your panties getting wetter and wetter and sticking uncomfortably. You lifted his T-shirt a little and then leaned in, placing wet kisses on his abdomen close to the line of his sweatpants. 

"Stop teasing me, baby girl"

"Sorry Daddy" you bit your lower lip knowing how it was affecting him.

You slipped your fingers behind the line of his sweatpants and pulled them together with his boxers, freeing his cock. Your mouth watered when you saw his pink tip and leaking precum. You sighed. 

"Don't take your glasses off"

"I didn't know you had glasses kink Daddy" you smirk. 

You licked your lips and stuck out your tongue giving him a few cat licks along the entire length of his cock. Chris gasped and placed his hand on the back of your head, pressing slightly to let you know to hurry. So you parted your lips and, without taking your eyes off him, took him to your mouth, inch by inch, until you take it deeper enough to feel the head of his cock against the back of your throat. There was a salty-sweet taste on your tongue that you had to admit you liked. He was heavy on your tongue and the feeling behind it was indescribable. 

Chris had pleasure written on his face. Eyes closed, leaning comfortably against the couch, eyes fixed on you. You swirling your tongue around as if you had a lollipop in your mouth, letting the saliva cover the whole shaft. Moan left your mouth as Chris lifted his hips making you gag. 

You had to admit you were a whore for this guy. Never thought you'd love to give someone head and be so wet that your juices practically dripped onto the carpet you were kneeling on. But here you are. His cock deep in your throat, his hips rising to the beat of your head moving. Sloppy and dirty. Exactly how you both loved it. 

“You’re doing so well baby girl, so good for Daddy” he groans “I love your lips” 

You let him from your mouth with a pop and focused your attention on his balls. You sucked, licked, and played with them while your hand-worked around his length. You turned your wrist back and forth as you moved up and down.

“Fuck, Princess” 

You were pleased with yourself to see what state you had brought him to. 

You felt it begin to squirm, letting you know that it won't last long. You looked up at him for a moment, unbuttoning his shirt, which you were wearing, and then took it to your mouth again. You grabbed his hands and put them on your head, Chris knew what you meant.

"You're such a cock slut" he growled and as you put your hands on his thighs for stability, he began to lift his hips fucking your mouth and making you gag around his shaft.

Moans escaped from your lips and drops of tears ran down your cheeks. You felt like you could only come by having his cock deep in your mouth and the animalistic sounds coming out of his chest making your pussy drip. 

You felt his cock twitched and you knew he is close. You looked into his eyes and a moment later you felt an explosion in your mouth. He released his seed in your throat riding of his orgasm. 

He sank back into the couch, panting heavily. When he looked at you were licking your lips swallowing what he gave you.

"I love the taste of your cum in my mouth." 

Fuck, he thought. He was hard again. 

A moment ago you had his cock in his mouth, now you were lying on your back on the floor. He nudged your legs apart with his knees, spreading you as he gripped your hips, tugging them up, up before he sheathed himself deep in you with a single stroke.

You moaned like a cheap whore from a porn movie at every glorious inch of him, rising onto your forearms as your fingers grappled the material of his t-shirt. 

“You are so tight and wet. Who made you so wet, Princess? Answer me!"

How could he expect you to be able to say anything? You were shaking with the pleasure and pain you felt when it entered you without preparing you first. However, you had to admit to yourself that you liked the combination.

"Answer me. I won't repeat myself " his fingers tightened around your throat. You let go of his shirt and grabbed his wrist.

"You Daddy. You made me so wet."

"That's right. Me. You are mine. You belong to me. You are mine cock slut. My dumb baby who soaked from sucking my cock” 

You moan loudly before he kissed you raw, heart rates faster. Your tongues entwined in a kiss, and he's changing your breathing with every thrust, hearing your moans timed to his body.

“Harder!” you begged.  

So he fuck you harder. Your mouth opens in pure ecstasy. He was in control. You surrender completely. 

“I'm gonna cum” you cry out looking in his eyes.  

"Come on, Princess. Do a mess on my cock” he groaned. 

And as if on command, your body began to shake as your body engulfed in orgasm, you came hard, screaming his name. Moments later you felt Chris cum inside you painting your walls. 

As you both came down from your heights, Chris got to his knees and pulled out of you watching the white substance flow out of your pussy.

"You look so beautiful. I could look at you like this for hours," he smiled softly and he leaned in to kiss your swollen lips “I love you, do you know that?” 

“Yes and I love you too,” you said weakly. 

"I guess it's time to go to bed. How about a hot bath and then sleep?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"But you're gonna have to carry me to Daddy, I don't think I can walk on my own after you fucked me hard and good" you held your hands out to him like a baby. Chris shook his head and laughed. And of course, he took you in his arms and carried you to the bathroom, where he prepared a bath for you, and then to bed, where both of you fell asleep, not bothering to put on your pajamas.

tags:  @patzammit @ivettt​ @speechlessxx​ @angrybirdcr​ @ozarkthedog​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @sweetflowerdreams @mostannoyingbillioner

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans fic #chris evans fanart #chris evans imagines #chris evans imagine #chris evans instagram #chris evans sex #chris evans smut #chris evans series #chris evans story #my writing #chris evans daddy #chris evans dirty #chris evans dirty imagines

[pettygangfriend]

Back up that talk, baby

Requested by anonymous: “Would love for you to write something where Rio’s girl teases him with sexy texts and pictures while he’s at work and he tries his best to concentrate and continue but we all know 😏”

A/n: I changed up the part where he tries his best to concentrate, as I wanted this to be from the readers pov. I’m thinking about making a part two for this including pure smut, let me know though. As always is feedback appreciated! ❤️

Warnings: Mentioning of the term ‘daddy’ (literally once), and some steamy talking.

It wasn’t your fault, really. Earlier today you found yourself in this big argument with Rio, as you decided to confront him on breaking his promise. He was supposed to be spending the entire day with you, and you couldn’t have been more excited, but of course something had to come up.

The argument ended with him telling you to stop nagging him about it, and that he would make it up to you— well, that’s where he thought the problem ended. You on the other hand, you had already decided on taking a more petty road.

Instead of accepting the fact that he wouldn’t spend today with you, you took yourself on a little shopping spree, at a lovely little place known as your favorite lingerie store. Picking out three different sets, you make quick work of trying them on, before rushing yourself home to prepare for the next little step of your plan.

Once you’re back at home again, you waste no time discarding all of your clothes and putting on some music. Walking through your apartment completely naked, while he’s out there doing god knows what, gives you a sense of empowerment, something you needed for what happens next.

You grab the bag filled with your brand new lingerie and empty it right on the couch. The bright red set draws the most attention, so it’s only fair you start out with that one. As you’re admiring yourself in the large mirror, a big smirk is plastered on your lips. You pick up your phone from the tabe, turning on the camera. Choosing the best pose that shows off your entire body, you take the picture. The little piece of thin lace left almost nothing to the imagination, as your nipples were hardening against the material.

📱“What do you think, daddy?”

Not thinking twice about it, you hit that ‘send’ button, and throw your phone onto the couch. This could backfire in multiple different ways, and you couldn’t wait for each and every single one of them.

After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you sat down again, checking your phone. A soft scoff leaves your mouth as you realize that he has seen your little message, but didn’t respond.

Quickly changing into your next set, you lay down on your stomach, giving him a perfect view of your ass in the next picture you send him.

📱“What about this one? It’s your favorite color”

Taking a sip of your drink, you watch as Rio opens the message but still ignores you. You won’t lie, you’re starting to get a little annoyed at his self control, but then again, everyone has their breaking point, right?

Slipping on your last set, you decide to take another approach this time. Instead of taking a picture, you go for a little video. You start out by showing him your shiny legs, before slowly moving your way up. Finally reaching your breasts, you cup one side a little roughly, letting out a soft gasp. Satisfied with the content on your screen, you forward it to him.

📱“Imagine if you were here, right now. All the things you could be doing to me, I’m dripping just thinking about it”

📱“I might have to take care of it myself, but don’t worry, I’ll imagine it’s your fingers dipping in and out of me”

You’re about to type another message, until you see the three dots popping up. I suppose the third time really is a charm. A warm feeling spreads through your body, imagining him watching your half naked self while having to keep up his cold persona.

A few minutes pass and he’s never sent you his reply. He simply stopped typing, and you’re back to square one again. Shaking your head, you give up on your plan to make him regret leaving you alone today. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for any of this, so why would you be?

Right after you’ve thrown on your robe, you hear a firm knock on your door. Making your way over to the door, you open it, revealing Rio leaning against the wall. You just stand there in shock, your mouth slightly agape, while he gives you a quick nod.

“You’re gonna keep standing there like you’ve seen a ghost, or you gonna let me in and back up all that talk?”

If you’d like to be removed from/added to my Rio taglist, let me know! ✨

@appropriate-writers-name

@chrmdnbeautiful

@isisafrofairy

@stitchesbystults

@glimmerglittergirl

@bellabean5591

@sesamepancakes

@peaches007

@riohoe

@amorestevens

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio good girls #good girls fanfic

[vixenpen]

You should DEFINITELY do a part 2 to the Dabi x teacher fic! Like it could be when they start taking their relationship to the next level and do some freaky things😏

Hot For Teacher pt.2 (Dabi x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Friendly reminder in this Dabi owns a tattoo shop and is tatted and pierced up and reader is black and thiccccc🍑💦💦)

You were completely unaware of the turquoise eyes admiring your thick ass as you erased your last lesson from the white board.

Dabi’s dick flexed just imagining what sliding between those cheeks would feel like. The material of your conservative black dress clung to your juicy butt and round hips despite the loose material. He liked that.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore and snuck up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pressing into you from the back.

“Dabi!” You squealed.

“Sorry, Ms. Y/n,” he chuckled against your kinky hair, “I just wanted to come by and see if it was possible to get some private lessons.”

You giggled, shaking your head, “you’re so corny. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but I’m hungry now.”

“What? What’s the supp-oh!”

The soft material of your knee length dress slid against your body and the next thing you felt were Dabi’s big, warm hands massaging your hips and a very familiar bulge against the crack of your ass.

“Damn, teach,” your boyfriend grinned against your ear, his deep raspy voice made you shiver. “You should have known better than to wear a thong with this little dress of yours. All those pervy male teachers probably haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt strong fingers groping and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Dabi,” you croaked weakly, “not here.”

Dabi responded by snaking his pierced along your neck. You whimpered.

“D-Dabi..”

“Hmm?”

One his hands squeezed your full breasts beneath the material.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“You know, you’re really hard to resist, right beautiful?” His hard on was massaging you through the jeans.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and had yet to go beyond kissing and heavy petting that always left Dabi wanting more. He wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, but he did know you were worth the wait.

And boy did you make him wait for it...and work for it. It was as hot as it was frustrating. His dick was so hard it hurt, and all he could think about was fucking you on your desk until you were screaming his name.

He turned you around to face him easily and scooped you up by those thick thighs of yours.

The next few moments were a blur. You saw pens and papers knocked to the floor before feeling your big bare ass settle against the cool wood of the desk.

“My lesson plans!”

Dabi’s lips cut off your protest, and his fingers worked the black dress off your body and over your head, exposing your curves to the cool air.

It was dizzying and exciting and sexy and...inappropriate! So inappropriate. This was your job!

“D-Dabi, wait!” You gasped between the feeling of his pierced lips nipping at you. “There might be students-“

“School ended an hour ago. Trust me. No kids are in this building.” He chuckled, amused.

“The janitors might-“

“I locked the door, beautiful. We’ll hear ‘em comin’.”

Turquoise eyes roamed your thick, dark body hungrily, followed by hands stacked with rings.

“Damn, I want you.” He muttered, diving down between your big breasts to lick and suck at them.

“Ahh~” you dug your fingers into his crop of black hair. “We can’t.” You gasped.

“Says who?”

“Da-ahh! Mmm.” His tongue was now snaking down your stomach. Kisses and bites being left on the melanated skin below your belly button. Fuck it felt so damn good.

He admired the glistening mess between your legs, parting the thick thighs to admire your creaming pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious.”

And then he dove in.

“Ohh go—“

Dabi slurped at your clit gently. The flick of his pierced tongue combined with the warmth of his mouth sucking the sensitive pearl sent electricity tingling through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the muffled sounds of heels clicking down the hall as remaining teachers walked past your locked room was the furthest thing from your mind.

This was so wrong. This went against everything you stood for, and yet...

“Moan for me, y/n,” Dabi commanded against your pussy. “Don’t hold back. Or else I’ma stop holdin’ back.”

“Dabi~”

He smirked up at your pretty brown face and his fingers glided easily into the gripping heat of your cunt.

“Ahhaaa! Fuck! Fuck...” your hips bucked against the sensation.

Months of only being able to play in your cat had given Dabi plenty of time to get to know your weaknesses. He exploited every one of them now. Throwing your thick thighs around his neck he flexed his fingers while licking at your folds.

You could only squirm against him, one hand grabbing his head to push his face deeper while the other gripped the edge of your desk.

“D-Dabi, god yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. B-baby, f-f-fu~”

Those sweet moans were music to Dabi’s ears. Your cum coated his fingers and your juices sprayed his face. He opened his mouth greedily drinking every drop.

Then he laughed low in his throat.

“Wow, Ms. Y/n, you really are a naughty teacher aren’t you?”

You tried to glare down at him, but it barely registered. You were too turned on to be pissed.

Dabi continued to tease you. “Letting me fuck you on your desk. Right here where you have to teach all these innocent young minds.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Dabi pressed kisses against the chunky meat of your thighs, his piercings tickled and his lips felt so good.

“Or what, Ms. Y/n?” He asked. “You’ll make me stay after class?”

He snickered and got to his feet.

You couldn’t help admiring him. He wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was lean and well toned. You wanted to see all of him. Feel all of him.

Snatching him by his shirt, you pulled him close and locked your thick thighs around his trim hips. Your lips pressed against his, hungry to taste every bit of him.

The two of you pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned admiring the colorful tapestry of tattoos and, your favorite part, the barbells piercing his nipples.

Dabi gave a smug smirk. “What’s up, babe? Don’t wanna stop anymore?”

You cocked a brow. “Real funny for someone who moans like a bitch when I do this.”

Pulling him towards you by the waist of his jeans, you trailed your tongue around his nipple, gazing up at him in that way that drove him fucking crazy.

“Oh my god~” he sighed. “Fuuuck, y/n...”

You giggled softly, switching to the other nipple. A deep groan welled up from your man’s throat.

Taking back control, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, squeezing the thick length trapped in his jeans.

Fuck his dick was so big. You had wanted to fuck your man for the longest time. And just feeling how hard his big dick was for you only confirmed that.

You pressed kisses up along his bobbing Adam’s apple, sucking at his studded earlobes. Your lips pressed to his ear as you purred out; “Now whose being naughty?”

That was about all the man could take.

He snatched you up off the desk once more to turn you around, laying you against it.

You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he snatched off his belt. Then you felt the leather and studs of it kiss your phat ass as he cracked it against you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed.

“Yeah?” Dabi growled. “Since you wanna talk shit and be a little tease that’s what your ass gets.” He snapped back.

He spanked you a few more times, not caring about what straggling teachers may have heard the noise.

Your mouth hung open as you felt your boyfriend’s lean body press against your body, long dick rocking between the cheeks of your butt.

“I been wanting to fuck your fine ass up for a minute Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled. “This is gonna be fun.”

He stood up admiring the view of that big, perfect ass jiggling with all its dimples and stretch marks in front of him.

God. He couldn’t wait to dive in it.

You craned your neck and admired the long dick slipping between your ass crack. A trail of piercings forming a jacob’s ladder on the underside.

Dabi caught your eye and grinned, eyes flashing. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” You replied.

That was all the answer he needed. Dabi wasted no time plunging deep into that juicy cunt of yours and a strangled groan escaped you both.

“Ahaaa~ fuuuuck yesss, Dabi!”

It was an odd sensation. His piercings added another sensation of texture to your throbbing walls. Your pussy couldn’t get enough of it because you felt yourself clenching and flexing for more.

Luckily he was more than happy to give it to you. His hips rocked back and forth making you feel every. Single. Inch. Every bump and ridge of your tight heat got massaged as he long stroked inside you.

“Fuckkk, y/n, you feel even better than I imagined, babygirl.”

The Angle made your big butt squeeze his cock going in and out, adding an extra grip to his dick. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass massaging and squeezing it while he pummeled deep into you.

“You gonna let me cum in this fat ass of yours, y/n? Huh?” He ground out through gritted teeth, fucking you sonhard your booty jiggled and the desk creaked.

“Yes daddy. You-c-can cum-ahh~where-ever you-fuccck-want!” You managed back, throwing your ass back at him as best you could.

“God damn right I can. Fuck!” He sighed.

Dabi alternated between fucking you hard and rough and slow and deep. His hand landed against your ass again and again and again. The sting barely registered as anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck fuck FUCK! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasped, drool drenching the desk where your mouth hung open.

“Got you baby-ah fuck! Don’t worry. Ima take care of you.” Dabi grunted back, eyes damn near closed in a mix of pure bliss and concentration.

The desk scraped as the force of your fuck session sent it sliding against the linoleum floors slightly. Neither of you stopped bucking and fucking.

If anything, you went harder. Dabi’s balls clapped your cunt with every stroke, and your ass jumped up to meet his pounding dick over and over until-

“AHAAA~”

“FUUUUCK!”

The two of you came so hard together it felt like you had ascended to another planet. Dabi Damn near collapsed on top of you. He pressed kisses against your curls and cooed about how amazing you felt. How amazing you were, as the two of you came down from your highs.

Finally, you were able to stand shakily to your feet—with Dabi’s help—and get dressed.

You sat back against the desk, panting and watching your very smug boyfriend pull on his shirt.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You shook your head. “I knew you were trouble the day I met you.”

Dabi laughed. “Well, hey, if I’m so much trouble I could always come see you after class again.” He winked.

You threw a marker at his laughing face which he just barely dodged.w

“Shut the hell up and clean up my classroom.”

Still grinning Dabi leaned in for a kiss. “Yes ma’am, teacher.”

#body ody ody ody ody ody ody ody #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader smut #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #quirkless au #bnha smut #n/s/f/w #desk sex #roleplay #mha headcanons #dabi scenarios #bnha touya

[babyflossy]

twentieth floor | s.jn

pairing; johnny x reader

requested; nope! this is just pure self indulgence

summary; johnny’s office is thankfully high enough off the ground to prevent disclosing your activities to passerbyers, and you love to exercise that privilege.

genre/warnings; smut, kinda dom!johnny but not really, unedited as per, i can’t really remember what exactly is in it but theres’s nothing extreme (slight choking i think, hinted size kink but not really), see y’all in hell ig

word count; 2.5k

if there was one thing you loved more than johnny, it was johnny dressed in a suit. the way the slacks melt around his thighs, the way his shirt emphasises the bulge of his biceps - it did things to you. the clean cut navy material frames his face and accentuates the strong line of his jaw. it was truly irresistible, and your thoughts can rarely stay innocent when you do see him in such clothing.

this is the predicament you find yourself in currently, finding it impossibly hard to look away from the tiny slither of skin that shows as he loosens his tie and pops the top button of his shirt open. it's almost the most inappropriate time to be thinking like this, with a meeting well under way and the stress lines that form whenever he frowns making themselves comfortable on his forehead.

but, alas, with one look at you johnny knows exactly what's going through your mind.

and he smirks.

he does nothing except paint the most irresistible smirk on his face that makes you want to nothing less than walk over to him and forcefully remove it. with your own lips, perhaps. you hope no one else notices the way his eyes narrow at you when you cross and uncross your legs repeatedly just to feel something in your desperation.

ten minutes more pass with you unable to do anything except sip your water and try not to think about the growing ache between your legs, the heat raising in the room. a breeze passes through the blinds and you feel goosebumps raise along the exposed skin of your legs; johnny notices and rubs a warm palm down your thigh in an attempt to combat your coldness. it achieves the opposite of his goal, however, and more goosebumps rise as his hand dips dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

you can tell your reaction to his touch has not gone undetected and you pout at the way he stares down at you, something darker about his gaze that makes you shiver. despite the other people in the room, you feel yourself lose focus in the meeting, the objective long forgotten as you basically undress your boyfriend with your mind.

the hand still hasn’t moved and you wrap your fingers around his to stop it moving further upwards, not prepared to hide your arousal from a room full of your co-workers. up to now, johnny’s actions have remained out of sight from everyone else, the shiny black table covering your legs completely.

a few more minutes pass of you sitting with bated breath, trying to ignore the presence of the man next to you and simultaneously trying to stop the image of his bending you over the cold surface of the meeting table in his office and pounding you until you scream. the task it impossibly harder than you originally thought, and soon your mind has wandered to johnny fucking you against the floor-length windows spanning the far wall, his tie around your mouth to keep you quiet–

a nudge to your side whips you out of your daydream and you try to ignore the way your cheeks are suddenly burning.

“what do you think?” well, shit.

“hm?”

“what do you think? about the plan?”

for a second your heart stops, unsure of what to say considering you haven’t the faintest clue what the plan is even for. you chance a glimpse at johnny and watch in horror as he just raises his eyebrow in question, clearly enjoying the panic that must be evident on your face.

“well,” you start, not even sure where you’re going, “i, uh– i think it’s a good starting plan.” it comes out as a question and you’re sure your facade is slipping. “could use some improvements, maybe,” you offer timidly, glancing around to see how your co-workers are taking your weak attempt at feigning interest. “i’ll– i’ll, uh, look over it later and get back to you.”

“perfect, thank you.” the relief you feel is outstanding and johnny shoots you an amused smile as you zone back out, letting the chatter be drowned out.

after what feels like hours, but is most likely minutes, people start trickling out of the room until finally only you and johnny are left. for a second neither of you move until he pushes on the table so his chair rolls backwards. without breaking your gaze he stands, walking over to lean on his desk, reaching over to pull at the blinds on his office door. you feel warm pool in the bottom of your stomach when he motions you over with a flick of his fingers.

“well done in the meeting, by the way, you really had some fantastic ideas.” the words would almost sound sincere if they weren’t accompanied by a sarcastic smile on his face.

you stand in front of him, slotting between his legs and resting your hands on his chest to toy with the buttons of his shirt. warm hands wrap around your waist and you lean up to press a light kiss to the space just under his ear lobe. the shiver he fails to suppress makes you smile.

“well, you looked so good i couldn’t concentrate.”  you reply, loosening his tie with your fingers and popping open the first few buttons.

“you can’t even last a day without me touching you?” as he says it, he trails his fingers down the side of your face, eyes admiring your features delicately. the way he’s looking at you is so tender you feel a different kind of warmth roll through you, love. “can you, angel?”

“you know i can’t.”

johnny’s hands move from your waist down to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. through the material of his slacks you feel the undeniable hardness and look up to see a smirk plastered along his lips again. matching his playful expression, you reach down and start palming him lightly, teasingly. for a second his cockiness slips and you hear the faintest murmur of a moan before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away.

“well, then,” his words have just a faint whisper of their previous power, the soft tone comforting in your ear even with the dirty undertones. “i can’t keep my princess waiting, can i?”

in an instance, you’re flipped over so his body cages you against the desk, the sharp edge digging into the backs of your thighs. his hands are no longer tame and gentle, they skim up your legs and pull the fabric of your skirt with them. when johnny starts kneading the flesh of your ass you let out an involuntary moan that he swallows when his lips meet yours.

there’s nothing sweet about the kiss, only raw and desperate and everything you need right now. he tips your jaw up to deepen it, teeth clashing and noses brushing against each other. you faintly wonder if he remembered to lock the door before realising you don’t actually care, the heat rising between you is enough to push all sensible thoughts out of your head.

one of johnny’s thighs pushes in between your own and you let yourself rest on it, moaning out when the fabric of his suit brushes your most sensitive spots. a look of glee crosses his face at the noise, free hands moving to pull you further down onto his leg to strengthen the feeling. you’ve been on edge for so long that when you experimentally roll your hips onto his leg you can already feel the pit in the bottom of your stomach deepening and the whine you let out tells johnny exactly that.

“my poor baby.” he coos with a devilish smile. “needing me so badly.”

you don’t have time to think as he flips you around so you’re facing the desk, your dress bunching at your waist. johnny slips a hand between you to rub at your clit over your panties and you try to conceal the moan clawing up your throat. when’s he tired of being constricted, he yanks the thin material down your legs and helps you step out of them, his fingers now without a barrier are cold against your core and you shiver.

“fuck, that feels so good,” your words are stuttered and breathless but johnny hears them just fine, setting a strong pace on your clit that has you moaning out too loudly for his office.

“i know baby,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, fingers not letting up. “but you have to be quiet for me, okay?” for a moment he slows the movement of his hands to a standstill until you nod.

to your surprise you feel the fingers of his free hand poking at your mouth and you accept them in without complaint. they cut off your ability to speak and johnny gets no verbal warning of when you tip over the edge, only the shaking of your legs and the strangled noises escaping around his hand.

“feel better?” even without looking at him you can see the cocky smile on his face.

you can feel wetness collecting at the tops of thighs as you clench them together, trying to gather the strength you were stripped of from your orgasm. the metallic clink of a belt only makes you wetter, knowing what comes next and more than excited for it.

within seconds you feel a hand prying your legs open again and the head of his cock slipping between your folds. the air changes and you can almost feel johnny’s demeanor switch as he starts to push into you, hand leaving your mouth only to close around your throat. this is always your favourite part, feeling his attitude drop from the normal sweet johnny to the man that chokes you and calls you his bitch.

to say you were hoping for that now in an understatement.

with nothing blocking your mouth you’re free to moan as load as you want when he finally starts easing himself into you. the delicious burn from the stretch is addicting and you clench around him involuntarily. “what do you say?” johnny asks in your ear, voice so much lower than usual.

“thank you.”

“thank you what?”

“thank you, daddy.”

it’s the final straw he needs before he bottoms out inside you, not waiting a moment for you to adjust to his size before he starts pulling back out. it takes you a few thrusts to get over the sharp stinging but when it dissolves into pleasure you find your mouth dropping open. johnny hits every deep spot inside of you that no one else has, a heavenly feeling when paired with the rough pad of his thumb flicking your clit once again. it’s still sensitive from your first orgasm and in no time you feel another building.

johnny seems to sense this and you whine in annoyance when he pulls out of you, looking behind to glare at him. this only seems to amuse him. “oh, i’m sorry, angel, where you about to come?”

one thing you’ve learnt about johnny over the years is he never asks rhetorical questions, meaning you were expected to answer all of them. he quirks an teasing eyebrow as he waits for your words. “yes, are you happy now?” but your weak anger only serves to amuse him more.

“very.” he purrs in your ear when you turn away, hands gripping your hips and pulling you up from the table. you wonder for a second what he’s doing and feel your inside swirl when he starts walking you towards the window. when you’re close enough you bring your hands up to steady yourself against the cold glass and johnny resumes his place behind you. “this is what wanted, isn’t it?”

finding yourself unable to speak, you simply nod and hope it suffices an answer for him. it seems to as no other words are spoken between you as johnny wraps an arm around you to rest his hand on your abdomen. you know this is one of his favourite things, to feel himself pushing into you through your skin, and you try not to shiver at the coldness of his hand on the bare skin under your skirt.

your eyes follow the cars on the roads 100 metres below, thankful that the height of johnny’s office would make it near impossible for anyone to notice you. it distracts you momentarily until you feel the tip of his cock lining up with your entrance, rubbing up between your folds a few times to collect your wetness. your mouth is caught in a silent scream when he finally does, the feeling again too much.

once again, it takes not much more than a few strokes of johnny’s cock hitting your sweet spot until your legs are shaking. you can feel your heart pounding and your moans are uncontrollable as he presses his hand firmly against you to feel himself slip in and out. you can almost feel the effect it has on him as his hips start stuttering against you, signalling his impending release.

“fuck, daddy,” you can’t help but drive him on, reaching down to cover his hand with your own, leaving one against the smooth pane of glass. he presses a soft kiss to the delicate skin behind your ear in response to the way you curl your fingers around his, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through his dominant exterior.

the contrast has your head spinning and you let yourself fall over the edge to the dirty words he whispers in your ear, back arching and eyes screwing shut. the sight of you coming undone around him, so exposed where anyone walking on the street could see you has johnny falling apart seconds later, hips faltering as he releases into you.

there’s a few seconds of heavy breathing and calm as you both try and come down from your highs, chests heaving. you pull your skirt down after he pulls out of you, spinning to lean against the window and throwing him a lazy smile, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his cum starting to spill down your legs.

“i love you.” he murmurs into the air between you before kissing you, hands suddenly gentle and loving.

“mmh,” you hum in acknowledgment, happily watching the dramatic scowl paint his features. “i love you, too.” the smile is instant. “even if you drip cum over my work clothes, you idiot.”

#johnny #nct #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct smut #johnny smut #nct x reader #johnny x reader #nct au #johnny au #nct fluff #nct angst #johnny fluff #johnny angst #nct scenarios #nct timestamps #johnny scenarios #johnny timestamps #nct 127 #nct 2020 #nct dream #wayv #nct ceo au #dom!johnny

[ladyspaceradio]

Population: Me + You

Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!

Warning: NSFW SMUT

AO3 LINK

                                                 Chapter One

“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember. 

Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.” 

Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy. 

She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-

Not possible. 

“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.

“You would think,” The asari beamed.  “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”

“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”

Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her. 

“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with. 

He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow. 

“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”

The future.

Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there. 

“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.

Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways. 

                                     ----3 weeks earlier-----

The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful  to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar. 

And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.

“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight. 

So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him. 

“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated. 

“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.

“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later. 

A pity considering how handsome he looked in it. 

“Hard.”

She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.

“To believe this war is almost over.” 

Almost

It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again. 

“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins. 

His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”

“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.” 

“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”

She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her. 

Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.  

Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before. 

The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach. 

Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?�� He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze. 

Or it was the alcohol. 

“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara. 

At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small. 

“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him. 

She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding. 

“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”

Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered. 

She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang. 

Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett. 

In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’ 

But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her. 

Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.

“No.” 

“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.

“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.

“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar. 

“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.” 

“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.

She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove. 

“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”

They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun. 

“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver. 

Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.

“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged. 

His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”

Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people. 

Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring. 

“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”

“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.

How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them. 

Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.

“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.

He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.

“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”

They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected. 

Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.

“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft  ‘oomf.’

His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach. 

Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”

She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure. 

Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years. 

“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“

Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach. 

She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.

“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.

He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall. 

Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest. 

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.

“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.

“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip. 

“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”

“Oh god yes!” She mewls  digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her. 

He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears. 

Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist. 

“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials. 

Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there. 

“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away. 

Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps. 

Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first. 

Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him. 

“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside. 

Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin. 

Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin. 

“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth. 

“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?” 

She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”

He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest. 

“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth. 

And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.

Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body. 

“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down. 

“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.” 

“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.

“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass. 

Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs. 

Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”

Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that  as Liam described  it, were ‘whitie tighties.’ 

If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-

These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.

He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval. 

With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants. 

Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her. 

Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own. 

Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed. 

Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound. 

Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip. 

“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip. 

“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.” 

“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver.  Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales. 

Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her. 

“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch. 

There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches. 

“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast. 

He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach. 

“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move. 

“Evfra!”

He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.

A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple. 

Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast. 

He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention. 

“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.

He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.

She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.

“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”

“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke. 

She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.

Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him. 

He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes. 

“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance. 

“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in. 

Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher. 

Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.” 

Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her. 

“Stars.” He rasped  looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs. 

Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid. 

Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder. 

“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist. 

“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. 

“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human. 

Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan. 

Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard. 

Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth. 

“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt. 

“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her. 

How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat. 

She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her. 

Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.

“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped. 

He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.

-----Present-----

She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it. 

How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life? 

She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait. 

Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children. 

Multiple...

She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10  weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo. 

Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression. 

It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement. 

Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.

::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.

“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered. 

“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::

She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off. 

It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like. 

Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips. 

Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door. 

She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.  

“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.

“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other. 

“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something. 

Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.

“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest.  “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch.  “I will let Addison know. Tann out.” 

Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled. 

How did my life become this?

She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way. 

“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.” 

Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.

“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.

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#Mass Effect #mass effect andromeda #mass effect evfra #evfra de tershaav #evfra x ryder #evfra #smut #unplanned pregnancy

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out fanfic #knives out fic #The Highest Bidder #pagesoflauren

[babysizedfics]

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Bonus chapter: Yellow

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Janus detects a lie.

Chapter word count: 1,800

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warnings: light angst, very mild blood via a bitten lip, and brief, hypothetical mentions of disembowelment and decapitation (Remus, amirite?)

oOo

Janus sipped at his chamomile tea, only faintly registering the bright yellow haze that overcame the left side of his vision. Another lie.

His vision would flare several times a day at least, always informing him of an untruth spoken by one of the sides. He was, of course, accustomed to this alert, having lived with this power for the entirety of his existence.

As the hot herbal drink soothed his aching throat (it was murder on the lungs to reprimand Remus so much), he indulged in his curiosity and closed his eyes. With a practised concentration, he mentally reached out for the false words that had sounded his silent alarm.

It was Patton’s voice. The version of Patton’s voice that Janus had deemed “daddy dialect” in the recent weeks. ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

Janus scoffed.

The lies he was so accustomed to hearing spanned the breadth of significance, from inconsequential white lies (‘I don’t know who finished your Crofter’s jam, Logan.’) to really outrageous fabrications.

Within the past two months, he had heard quite the abundance of silly fibs. Even in the space of a fortnight, some truly ridiculous ones had stuck in his mind:

‘I don’t need dinner!’

‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’

‘It was a purely tactical approach.’

‘Three, two, one, blow! … You did it!’

It seemed almost every lie spoken by the self-proclaimed “Light Sides” nowadays was riddled with either petulance or condescension. (That is, Janus thought with a roll of his mismatched eyes, at least notably more than was usual for them.) The reason behind it was not lost on him. He may not have been the designated logical side, but it would take an absolute dunce to miss the cues on what exactly was happening in the others’ household; Logan and Patton had evidently taken on caregiving roles for Virgil and, unexpectedly - though perhaps it should not have been, given his childishness - Roman.

Janus had had his suspicions of such after walking in on the household spending time together a month previously. Given how fiercely protective Logan had been of the others and the way Patton had hidden the two younger sides behind himself, it would be hard to ignore the shift in their dynamic. Though the confirmation of it through listening in to the others’ unwitting lies had come as quite an unpleasant shock to Janus, nonetheless.

Every day he sensed silly fibs. The one earlier about baby giggles being a legal requirement under baby law had been… not endearing, per se (that yellow pulse again), but perhaps interesting. Though none of the nonsense he had been alerted to in the past few weeks came close to the idiocy of ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

How self-assured. How naïve. How reminiscent of Janus’ own foolish thoughts all those years ago.

He sighed, lowering his mug to the table and running his cold fingertips idly over the burning hot ceramic. It was not that Janus was jealous (he ignored the faint swell of yellow in the corner of his vision) but rather that he felt an uncomfortable bubble of remorse in his chest, growing and stretching and forcing its way against his ribs.

As he had done countless times before, he wondered what things would have been like had he behaved differently when the youngest side was still part of his household. Had he been more understanding of Virgil’s behaviours. More accepting.

Well, as Patton’s lie had brought up such aching memories, Janus decided a tad more bittersweet self-indulgence would be fitting for the night.

He rose from his seat, tucked the chair back under the table, and slinked through the house fluidly. He thanked his serpentine side for allowing him to practically float up the stairs and through the hallway without making a sound. If either of the other two residents heard him and decided to leave their rooms for a chat, Janus would not be held responsible for whatever unsavoury greeting he may bestow upon them.

A vile feeling clawed at his throat as he neared the perpetually closed door of Virgil’s old bedroom.

With a sharp, short sigh that might have been at least partly a hiss, Janus pushed the heavy door open. The neglected hinges creaked.

Beams of cold light from the hall flooded through the gap of the opening doorway, making visible a thin segment of the abandoned room.

It was unmarred by dirt, slime, blood, or any other disgusting substance, thankfully. Janus had to give credit to Remus. As non-existent as that side’s impulse control was, he had managed to spare this single room from his various antics and pranks at Janus’ sincere request.

The room was entirely unchanged from how it had been left years ago. Small, dotted stains on the walls showed where blu-tac used to hold up punk band posters. Splotches of black on the carpet by the old dresser showed where liquid eyeliner was spilt too many times. Black cotton bedsheets (which now appeared grey with their faint layer of dust) were pulled taut over the mattress where they had only ever used to be in constant, rumpled disarray at a certain someone’s stubborn refusal to make the bed.

Janus gripped the doorframe tightly, clenching his jaw against his growing feeling of unease.

Being a “Dark Side” came with an appreciation of all things, well, dark. True crime stories were common conversation material at dinner, movie nights featured more than anyone’s fair share of fake blood (not always on screen, mind you; Remus had to have some fun once in a while, after all), and family bonding time consisted of debates on the darkest secrets of society and an abundance of teasing of each others’ insecurities and fears - all in good fun, of course. (Though, when Virgil had finally left for good that fateful day with tears streaming down his cheeks, Janus had been forced to reconsider what “good fun” really meant to them.)

As it was, Janus was accustomed to seeing and hearing things meant to turn stomachs, race hearts, and scramble minds. He shrugged at the majority of them and scoffed at the rest. But gazing upon this empty room - the physical embodiment of his failure as a parental figure - was the closest he thought he could truly be to feeling horrified.

Janus’ insides twisted and pulled so much every time his eyes wandered over the sealed doorway, that he had seriously considered asking that Remus follow through on his threats to disembowel him and relieve him of his agony.

Bile had not yet risen in his throat, so Janus considered today to be a good one to bring himself to peek at the old bedside table - or rather what lay upon it.

Once cluttered with makeup products, tangled headphones, and herbal anxiety remedies, the surface now lay mostly bare. Save for a single soft toy slumped across it limply.

The blue stuffed rabbit was a ghastly thing. It was missing an eye, one of its limbs was stretched far longer than the others (probably as a result of its owner’s nervous tugging which was otherwise directed onto his hoodie sleeves), and one of its ears was half-chewed to tatters (another nervous habit of its owner, no doubt). Despite its ratty appearance, the thing was harmless. Such an unassuming object, so innocent.

And yet it brought tears to Janus’ eyes.

He had never even learned the name of the damned thing and wasn’t it utterly ridiculous that Janus, the unofficial leader of the “Dark Sides”, was blubbering over a made-up name for an inanimate object?

It had not mattered to him before. It had made no difference to him what Virgil had named it or how much he had cared about it. Janus had metaphorically and mercilessly turned the thing into a weapon that day. With his careless tongue, he had twisted its existence from an item of comfort and attachment into a source of ridicule and hurt. It was no wonder Virgil had left it behind. It had been tainted.

Janus winced at a sudden sting in his lower lip. He had bitten into it again. One would have thought having fangs would convince someone to be more careful of such a habit. 

Delicately dabbing at a drop of cool blood at the corner of his mouth, Janus sighed shakily. That was quite enough emotional torment for one evening.

He released the old bedroom door and let it fall shut. It had barely thudded against the doorframe when that grating, obnoxious sound trilled from the bane of Janus’ existence.

‘What’s up, Jannothy?’

‘Remus,’ Janus greeted with an exaggerated eye roll. It was only partly to rid his eyes of their wetness. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ Yellow tinted his left eye.

The distinctive scent of burnt paper met his nose. With a jolt of dread, Janus turned to see Remus half-caked in soot. He just about managed to contain a scream. It would have only invited one of Remus’ much-loved screeching competitions.

‘I see you’ve been in the library,’ Janus sighed. ‘Tell me, just how many of my books were charred beyond repair this time?’

Remus blew his cheeks out in a massive exhale, looking up to the ceiling in thought. As the warm breath wafted over his face, Janus was careful to breathe through his mouth.

‘Oh, only about half of them,’ Remus sang then cackled joyously for a short while. ‘But you’ll be glad to hear I sculpted the ashes into the shape of a nine-foot-long decapitated aardvark!’

Janus shut his eyes, shaking his head lightly. He hadn’t the energy to pander to Remus’ whims of fancy. ‘Good night, Remus.’

He silently slipped past the other side in the direction of his room.

‘But it’s only seven!’

‘I’m half cat.’ Yellow again.

‘Jan - wait,’ Remus called behind him, and the incongruous hesitance in his voice gave Janus pause.

He twisted his body back, surprised by the incredibly rare sincerity in the furrow of Remus’ brow.

‘All right. You have my undivided attention,’ Janus drawled, making a point to hold up his hand and inspect his nails thoroughly. He smirked at the yellow tint of his vision.

‘You seem bummed out,’ Remus whined, ‘and the role for resident bum is filled out by me already.’

Janus rolled his eyes again. At this rate, he would get vertigo.

‘So, are you, y’know… okay?’ Remus asked quietly. (Really, what an oxymoron that was.)

Something hard and hot clogged Janus’ throat and he swallowed thickly around it. He dropped his hand and swiftly looked up to meet Remus’ eyes.

‘Yes,’ Janus said in an entirely even tone, ‘I am perfectly fine. Now, if you will excuse me.’

He spun away and marched down the narrow hallway, keeping his gait steady. It was quite a feat, considering the fact he was half-blinded by a bright yellow glare.

oOo

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@tearful-babi

#little/big series #little/big series fics #little accidents big developments

[taurusjaehyun]

one of us // j.jh

♦Pairing: jaehyun x fem reader

♦Other Members/ Characters: Johnny, Lucas and Taeyong [mentioned]

♦Genre: smut, frat boy-play boy Jaehyun

♦Warnings: rough sex, smutttty smut, overstimulation, daddy kink, cum eating, oral sex (giving and receiving), breath play(?), choking on dique, minor anal, sub space(?), fingering and good ol’ penetration

♦Word count: 5,994

♦Story: Jung Jaehyun is infamous for being a man whore from the most famous frat in your uni with the most concentration of fuck boys. You’re Miss Congeniality, well-liked by everyone, from the Dean to the gardener of your uni, and a friend of all the cliques. Jung Jaehyun included.

Note: This was requested! Sex on a pool table with Jung Jaehyunzzz. Again, this isn’t proofread. Sorry hehe. Also I suck at summaries so u just gotta read it to know what it’s about skskss. Thank you and enjoy! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! :) Talk to meeeeee chingoose~

Everyone knew Jung Jaehyun whored around. He’d show up with a new girl in his arms every other day but that didn’t stop the girls from coming onto him, even after he dumps them after he gets bored. Usually, a week would be a long one for him so after you had asked him out and somehow made him say yes, but no one had actually expected you to last more than 2 weeks with him. Even the guys in his frat were surprised too. 

And now that you were going straight to the 2nd month of dating the infamous Jung Jaehyun, everyone looked at you differently. They treated you differently too. You used to blend into the background but now that you were amongst the likes of Jaehyun, you had changed your style and appearance to suit your new crowd. Your usual comfy boxy shirts, mom jeans and sneakers were replaced with spaghetti straps, miniskirts and heels. 

And that was how you ended up in the basement of Jaehyun’s frat house, on your knees, sucking Jaehyun’s dick as he gripped the edge of the pool table behind him. The basement was strictly for frat members only as it was a game-slash-hang out room for the guys. The party upstairs was on full blast that you could still hear the heavy bass of the EDM song they were playing upstairs. 

“That’s it,” he watches you with half lidded eyes as you slowly take his cock deeper down your throat, his hands on the back of your head, controlling your pace, “take it like the good girl you are.” 

You whimper in panic as your throat tightens up around his head, making him moan but all you knew was you had to breathe. You squeeze his thighs, signaling to him that you couldn’t take him deeper but he doesn’t let go of your head, but instead pushes you closer, making his dick push deeper into you until a few inches of his cock was left uncovered. 

You gag around his cock, hot tears flooding your ducts as you resort to banging your fists against his thighs. You close your eyes, gagging as the need for air kicks in again. 

“Shit, y/n,” he hisses before he pulls off your head away from him, thick ropes of spit connecting his cock and your mouth trailing down your chin as you cough, gasping for air. “I just wanted to see how long you could hold your air, sweet cheeks.” He smirks as he breathes in the sight of you on your knees, eyes glossy, mouth swollen and hair disheveled. 

You nod, fisting the material of your dress against your thigh. You couldn’t say you hated what he did. And you were too under his control to deny whatever he wanted to do with you. It was kind of the deal when you started dating him. 

Without a word, he grabs the back of your head, using his other hand to fist his cock, leisurely jacking himself off. He pushes your head closer to his crotch and like an automatic response, you open your mouth, close your eyes and spread your tongue in the process so he could slide in easy. 

You don’t feel the heaviness of cock in your tongue but on your top lip instead. He gives you a sweet smile, caressing your hair. “Close your mouth, sweetheart.” You follow his words and he drags the head of his cock on your lower lip, spreading his pre-cum mixed with your spit around like he was applying lipstick on you. 

After he was done with your lips, he had started to caress your cheeks with the length of his cock. Your cheeks were wet and sticky now, messing your make up but he knew you loved it when he did that. He was biting his lips and you knew he was breathing shallow by the way his chest was moving with every breath he took. 

You could feel your arousal running down your inner thighs and you were so sure that the pretty lilac silk panties you wore for him were ruined. But you didn’t care because he’d take it off anyways. 

“Pretty,” he says and you give him a smile, your heart fluttering at his simple words. “I really wanna see how long you can hold your breath, angel. You can hold out longer than earlier, right? I know you can.” 

“I can! I can, Jaehyun! I can!” You exclaim with a little too much excitement. He loved to put you to your limit sometimes. And you loved it. Completely. 

“Prove it, baby.” He smiles lazily, pushing the hair out of your face with his dry hand. You use your hand to lead his cock to your mouth and slowly ease it inside your mouth until the tip reached your throat, making him hiss. “You’re such a pretty girl, y/n. So pure yet so bold.” He observes, caressing your cheek gently with his knuckles, as if you were a fragile doll. 

You start bobbing your head slowly, pulling back until his tip was left in your mouth and pushing forward until his tip reached the back of your throat, making you gag a little every time. He loved how you looked up at him with those innocent eyes but take in the whole of his cock. He wasn’t an easy length to take it and all the girls knew. That was also one of the things he was famous for. 

You knew that fact as well and had the shock of your life when you first saw it. Jaehyun thought it was amazing how hard you worked for him, giddy when he had told you that you took him so well unlike the other girls. Shallow as that may sound, you didn’t want to be another notch on Jung Jaehyun’s belt. You wanted to be remembered and you’d take the title of the only one who could take his whole cock in. 

Jaehyun visibly shivered when you licked the underside of his cock as you kept him down your throat, hands palming his balls. “Shit, shit,” he groaned, biting his lips. He watches you as you unsheathe his cock out of your mouth and use your left hand, jacking him off and lifting his dick. You duck your head, going lower and started sucking on his balls, balancing yourself with your your free hand on his hips. 

“God, you’re so good at this,” he chuckles, breathing growing shallow with every swipe of your tongue on the sensitive skin of his balls. You let go of his hip and start fondling his balls, making him grunt deeply. You loved hearing his sounds and the mere thought of you making him feel THIS good was enough for you to get yourself horny. You loved serving him in any way you could. 

“Show me how long you can hold your breath, baby,” he purrs, looking at you with his half lidded, lust blown eyes. He was petting your head gently as if he was telling you how such a good girl you were for him. 

You let go of his nut with a pop, making him inhale sharply as you gently blow air on it, sending shivers up his spine. You lock your eyes with him as you level the head of his cock on your mouth, taking a deep breath in the process. 

Slowly, you push your head forward, his hot and velvety cock sliding down your tongue and eventually the tip reaching your throat, making you slow down a bit, relaxing yourself as you feel your eyes prickle with tears. You close your eyes, taking in little breaths through your nose to calm yourself further. You squeeze your thumb in your fist tight, helping with the gagging as proven from times before. 

“Take your time, sweetheart,” he whispers, loving the warmth and texture your mouth offered for him. You were so, so good for him and he couldn’t ask for more. 

Once you find yourself relaxed and ready to take on more of his length, you push your head forward. Slowly but surely. It wasn’t easy though. It never is easy even though you’ve done it more times you could count. You close your eyes tightly as you push yourself one last time, taking the whole of his cock down your throat until your nose was squished against his belly, your top lip prickled by his trimmed pubes. 

Jaehyun starts to count, slowly, much to your dismay but you focus on holding your breath, clearing your mind and trying to relax as you close your eyes. You didn’t feel the hot tears sliding down your cheeks until you felt Jaehyun brush them away with his thumbs, echoes of what sounds like his voice telling you how much of a good girl you were or something like that. You didn’t know. 

Jaehyun took the sign of your eyes fluttering and your throat closing up tighter around him as a sign that you were losing hold of your air. “Fuck, shit,” he pushes your head back, hands cradling your head as the separation of his cock from your mouth produced a loud, filthy, wet squelch. 

You find yourself sitting on the floor, hand clutching your barely covered chest as you cough, sputtering, as strings of spit escape your mouth as you gasp for air. You didn’t know how long you were holding your breath but the pain in your chest and your light headedness gave you an idea that you held it pretty long. 

“H-how long?” You ask shakily, trying to restore the breath in your lungs by taking in big breaths. 

Jaehyun smirks and chuckles, “I lost count after 12, to be honest. Maybe we should use a timer next time, yeah?” He teases you and you roll your eyes at him, making him release his big, belly laugh. The basement used to be a shelter and the walls were bouncy so his laugh resounded through the room. “You good?” 

You nod, finding yourself smiling as he laughed. His laughter was one of the things you adored about him. You look up at him, as he sat, perched on the edge of the pool table. His shirt was lifted up, giving you a peek of his tight stomach, the front of his jeans and boxers pushed down and his cock—hard, red and leaking, was on full display. 

“How about you let me fuck your mouth and I’ll give you a reward after?” He asks, the playfulness overtaken by mischievousness and lust in his voice. 

Your breathing was back to normal now, despite the slight ache in your throat but you decided that would be dealt with tomorrow. “Ok,” you nod as you get on your knees again and sit upright as he get down from the table, spreading his legs comfortably. 

Soon, his cock was inside your mouth again as he thrusts shallowly and slowly, setting up his pace and giving you preparation before he went crazy on you. Once again, his hands were cradling your head to keep your head anchored and your arms looped around his thighs. 

This was one of the handful times where you actually take in the whole of his length so he was gonna take advantage of the stretch he gave you tonight and fuck your face for all your worth. 

“Damn, y/n. I fucking love your mouth,” he moans, bucking his hips, watching half of his length get swallowed by your mouth. “When you’re presenting in class,” thrust. “When you’re annoying me and nagging like Doyoung hyung,” thrust. “And especially when you let me fuck your mouth like this.” He chuckles as he looks up at the roof and closes his eyes, feeling the familiar heat pooling in his belly. 

He snaps his hips faster, depth perception off as he chases for his orgasm. You gag with every snap of his hips, knowing full well he was deep into pleasure to know he was giving you more cock than he should have. 

With a loud grunt and whine, Jaehyun finally cums, leaving his hot cum at the back of your tongue, letting it spurt out until it filled your mouth. He pulls back, watching as the warm, salty liquid escapes the crevices of your mouth and spills down your chin, covering the trails of dried spit on your chin. 

Using your finger, you scoop the dripping cum from your chin and into your mouth again, sucking on your finger. 

“You’re so hot,” he speaks, dazed at your actions. “Don’t swallow it yet. Just keep it there.” 

You keep your mouth open, despite the ache in your jaw as you gave him a nod, careful not to let the cum spill out. 

He pulls you up to your feet and you almost lose your balance as you’ve been kneeling on the floor longer than you’d like to admit. He spins you, with you now pressed against the pool table, eyeing your disheveled but stunning appearance. Your eyes were half lidded, face matted with dried spit and tears, lips sore and red, mouth full of his milky cum and neck littered with blooming hickies down to your chest. The straps of your dress draped down your shoulders, exposing your breasts with more hickies and sore nipples from him sucking on it earlier. You were beautiful. So beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see you fucked out and delirious for him. 

Jaehyun pulls up the ends of your dress, letting him see your silk underwear and the dripping wetness down your inner thighs. You were so horny that you could feel your pussy throbbing. “Don’t let my cum drip or I won’t let you cum,” he warns before he kisses your neck, then down to your breasts ad he slips his hand down your underwear, making you sigh in relief as his fingers finally touched your tingling clit. 

He sucks on your nipple as he slowly rubs on your clit, making you buck and whine, but he continues to rub on it, gauging your reaction. You grab onto his shoulders as he moves onto the other nipple, sucking with same intensity while his fingers move deeper, his middle finger tracing your wet slit. “You’re fucking soaking, y/n.” 

You tried to speak but it ends up being a gargling sound so you close your mouth instead and buck your hips, trying to grind yourself against his fingers. He always said he wasn’t cruel so he pulls off from your nipples and pulls down your underwear until they were down the floor. He helps you step out of them and spreads your legs slightly for easier access. 

Right away, his mouth finds itself attached to your nipples and his fingers inside you, sliding in easy with your excessive wetness. His pace was slow and gentle, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as if his dick hasn’t been inside you. He took preparation very seriously, especially with his size. 

He adds another finger, pressing kisses against your sore nipples before he moves down, giving your stomach open mouthed kisses that leaves a trail of warmth inside of you. In the short time you’ve been together, you fairly got to know each other’s body, especially him. He was a very attentive lover and he even discovered new places you never thought would bring you pleasure. 

Jaehyun lifts your left leg with his left hand, propping it up on the top of the pool table as he gets on his knees in front of you, fingers never stopping on fucking you. He looks up at your pussy, all exposed for him, and the stretch of your leg propped up gave him a pretty good view of your hole being fucked open by his fingers. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers as he watches his 3 fingers disappear inside your cunt and come out with your juices as he uses the tips of his fingers with his free hand to spread your pussy lips, giving him a full view of your pink pussy and stuffed hole. He uses his thumb to rub at your clit upwards, like he was tickling it and eventually, gently flicking at it. The pleasure you were feeling was starting to be unbearable but frustrating as he was purposely missing the spot that made you see stars just to tease you. 

You pant, looking at the beautiful man kneeling in front of you and in between your legs, watching your pussy like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. You grunt as you buck your hips, trying to take him deeper and try to let his finger brush on your spot but to no avail. He pushes down on your belly, locking you against the table and him, with no space to move. 

Despite him missing your sweet spot, your orgasm quickly comes, aided by his constant torturous rubbing on your clit with his thumb that has you moaning and whining. You feel your legs trembling as the pleasure surges through your body but suddenly his mouth is on your clit, sucking and gliding his tongue on it and his fingers prod at your sweet spot, making you squeal as your orgasm takes over your body. 

You clutch on his hair as your eyes roll back at the pleasure he’s giving you but he doesn’t stop. Not even when your orgasm has subsided and you’re twitching in overstimulation. He stands up again but his fingers never stop and you can’t do anything but grab onto the edge of the pool table behind you. Your legs shake violently than before that your knees buckle, making you lose your balance. He catches you with his left arm around your waist and his fingers now deeper inside your spasming walls as you cum again for him. 

He pulls his fingers out of you and carries you up the pool table, your sensitive pussy grazing against the felt texture of the table, making you whine. He kisses you, shoving his tongue down your throat and swiping for a taste of his cum that you had unknowingly swallowed in the bouts of your earlier orgasm. He licks at your chin, drinking in whatever was left of his cum that dripped down earlier and capturing your mouth again with his. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as the two of you engage in a hungry, passionate and almost primal kiss that takes your breath away. The thing about Jaehyun is, he kisses you like it’s the last time he’s kissing you. It’s raw and it makes you feel lightheaded. 

You both pull away, both out of breath, foreheads sticking to each other, eyes locked. He looks down, pulling your ass to the edge of the table as he slips inside of you without a word as you release a long moan as the rest of his length enters you. The height of the table was just perfect, with your crotches on the same level because of his tall height. 

He sighs in pleasure when he bottoms out inside you, burying his face into your neck as you pull him close with your arms, planting lazy kisses on his cheek. He lifts your legs and hangs them on the bend of arms as he holds onto your hips. 

“Fuck me now, Jae. Fuck me,” you whimper against his ear and he wastes no time and slowly pulls out his cock from inside you until you were left with the tip and pushes into you again, the motion easy because of your wetness. “Oh, baby,” you moan as he starts moving, still slowly, letting you get used to his length as if you’ve never been stuffed full of it. “S-so big.” You moan as he slowly builds up the pace. 

“You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart.” He whispers against your cheek, breathing out loud with every snap of his hips against yours. “Your pussy is fucking amazing, y/n.” He groans.You bite your lips as he purposely avoids your g-spit, grazing it just a little bit. You were still so sensitive from your previous orgasm that you could feel the very shape of his cock, down to the veins wrapping around it and how it throbbed when it was inside you. It felt too good to be stuffed full of his cock. 

“God, how come your pussy’s still so fucking tight even after all the times I’ve fucked you?” He grins as he steadily thrusts his hips up to yours, watching your tits shake with the sheer force of his fucking into you. 

You grab his face, cupping his cheeks as you look into his eyes, but failing to keep focus in his because of the way your eyes would involuntarily roll back with every good thrusts he gives you. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you grit as you throw your head back. 

He chuckles at your reaction then leans forward to kiss your neck, nipping at your sweet spot as he wraps your legs around his hips and pulls you closer to him, allowing him to thrust deeper in to you if it was possible. 

You bury your head into his shoulder, closing your eyes as you let your body experience the pure pleasure he was giving you with every thrust of his hips against yours. However, it wasn’t enough. You pull him into a kiss again, sloppy with spit and teeth clashing. You pull away from him, breathless as you pull him close, your foreheads touching. 

Jaehyun keeps his eyes locked on you, with his hips never faltering. Being in you felt like heaven. He loved the way your eyes were half lidded and full blown with lust that mirrored his. He wanted you. Always. 

The first time you came up to him, he was surprised because people like you kept away from people of the likes of him. You were well liked by people, even the professors and you seemed like a decent person, totally different from the snakes that were in your uni. You were a breath of fresh air. That’s why he was surprised when you confessed you had liked him ever since you met him at freshman orientation. You knew him before he became the Jaehyun he is now. And you still looked and treated him the same with no judgment in your eyes, but rather growing affection. 

You were so different. His frat brothers always knew he looked at you differently so they were happy for him when the news of you and Jaehyun broke out in the uni. Taeyong had always insisted you’d be the one to change him and it was true. You were lasting longer than the other girls, he was loyal to you, he kept his promises with you. He probably loved you too. Probably. 

You peck his lips, “fuck me harder, Jaehyun. Please.” Jaehyun snaps his hips faster and harder against yours, that you had to hold onto him to keep yourself in place for him. “Harder, please. Harder, baby.” 

The thing about you too, is, you could take him and more. That was an added bonus for him. He pulls out of you, making you whine. “Climb up on the table and get on all fours, y/n.” To the people around you, you were sweet, so head strong but with him, you were such a submissive little slut. 

You immediately listen to him, and move to the center of the pool table and get on all fours, your ass and pussy on full display for him. Jaehyun gets on the table and kneels behind you, head diving in your folds, tongue licking up in your hole as his hands knead your ass cheeks, smacking the supple flesh. 

You moan, burying your face into your hands, almost crying with the way his big hands landed on your bare ass, creating a loud slapping sound that resonated in the room. It was so painful but it added to the pleasure of the way he was tongue fucking all the while. 

You feel Jaehyun’s tongue making its way out of your hole and around your lips and eventually on your clit, which he sucks fervently, making you hiss when he grazes his teeth against it. “Jaehyun! No!” You groan when he pulls off of you. “Eat me out, Jae. Please!” You exclaim, pleading as you steady yourself with your arms, looking back at him. 

“Be quiet. You don’t wanna hear the people in the party know how you’re being a slut for me, right?” He asks. You swallow, making a noise of agreement. He leans forward, covering your body as his hands wrap around your belly. “Daddy will give you what you want if you’re good, ok? Are you gonna be a good little whore for daddy?” He whispered against your ear as his hands travelled from your waist to your breasts. “Use your words, baby.” 

Daddy. Fuck. It was one of the kinks you actively played with him. He was surprised when you had revealed you were heavily into it and he had told you he hadn’t expected for someone like you to be into it. “Y-yes, daddy. I’ll be your good whore.” You could feel his throbbing cock against your wet sex and you wanted nothing but to have it inside you. But you knew once your play had started, you couldn’t ask for anything easily. 

He gets up on his knees again and plunges 3 of his fingers in your pussy with no word, surprising you. He immediately fucks you with his fingers hard and fast that you fall forward, face landing on your forearms as he uses his other hand to rub at your clit, fingers never stopping. 

“You can’t cum until I say so,” he smiles, planting open mouthed kisses on the sore spots on your ass. You twitch at the contact and your pussy contracts around him. 

You bite down on your lower lips, chest heaving as you feel the familiar heat filling your being. You were about to cum. The way he was fucking you open with his fingers and the way he was playing with your clit was so good that you almost feel yourself slipping and giving into the release but you try to hold it in, tears blurring your vision as every second you try to hold it in, the more it gets harder. 

Finally, he pulls his fingers out of you and lets go of your clit. You slump down the pool table, sobbing as you hold onto your hair, tugging. You were so fucking frustrated that you hadn’t cum but he made you feel so good that you had no other reaction but to cry and sob loudly.  

Jaehyun’s hand lands on your ass again and you whine loudly, still sore from the earlier spanking he gave you. Your ass automatically thrust up at the impact. He caresses the curve of your ass and kneads, now using both hands on both cheeks and you moan, low. He was pressing down on you hard that your sensitive nipples would graze the felt material of the pool table, sending shocks up your spine. 

“What do you want, y/n?” Jaehyun asks, spreading your ass cheeks, revealing your tight asshole, wet by your juices. “Should I fuck you here again?” He asks, sucking on his thumb and spitting on your hole before he uses his thumb to spread the spit around your tight hole and eventually, slowly entering his thumb. 

“I want you to fuck me, please. Just fuck me.” Your breath hitches with every word. Last night, he had fucked your ass. Hard. And you were still stretched, so you didn’t know why he was being so careful with your ass when he had fucked you up so well there so many times before. At this point, you didn’t care. You just wanted him inside you. Any hole would do as long as he used you and filled you. “Fuck me. Fuck me.” 

Jaehyun lifts up your hips, and rubs the head of his cock against your slit, covering his cock with your wetness. He spreads your ass cheeks, spits on your gape and you groan as the head of his cock bumps against your tight entrance. Slowly, he pushes in and you whine, clutching on anything you could hold on to. 

Jaehyun knew you weren’t prepped because despite the fact you were still a bit stretched, it would be a pain for you because of his size. As soon as his head was inside, he chuckles, watching how your hole had expanded to take his size. It was amazing. “You’re amazing, baby. You’re so good for me.” He smiles, wiping the sweat that covered the smooth skin of your back. 

You whine as he pushes into you, a few inches now buried in you but still a long way to go if he were to bottom out. You try to calm yourself down but the way he stretched you made you gasp for air. “Nggghh, daddy,” you breathe out. “You... you’re... so b-big.” 

He grabs the back of your head, and pushes your face down the table, his hand holding you down as he pulls up your ass to the air, cock still inside you. You bite your lip and groan as his cock barely inches forward inside you again. “How about you cum before I fuck you?” 

You try to nod but he’s literally holding you down so you could only say yes with your eyes. You lick your dried lips as he starts playing with your clit, just sloppily rubbing on it, as if he wasn’t really trying to please you. You needed more to cum but you’d take everything at this point. 

“More?” He asks lazily and you try to nod again. “Ok,” he immediately plunges the same the fingers he used on you earlier and fucks you fast and hard with it, purposely hitting your sweet spot with ever thrust and curl of his long fingers. Jaehyun watches the way your brows furrowed and how the surface below your face had a small puddle of spit and tears.

Jaehyun loved the way you looked so confident and so unassuming with everyone and he also loved the way you were so desperate and fucked out under him. Like you were under the spell of his cock in you. He loved it so much. 

“If you don’t cum now then I won’t let you cum after this.” He whispers against your ear, crushing your body with his. 

You focus on the pleasure of his fingers fucking you hard and fast, and the way your nipples grazed the pool table with every shift of your body. You were there. Just a little more. Suddenly, Jaehyun starts to fuck into your ass, but never going deeper. Just shallow thrusts, careful, so you don’t get hurt. 

You cum with a shriek, your ass and pussy tightening around him as your whole body trembles. “Fuck! Fuck!” He pulled out his fingers out of you and pulled off his dick from your ass as soon as you had hit your high. 

He finally lets go of his heavy hand on your head that held you down earlier. “Good?” He asks as he holds your hips in his hands, lifting it up in position so he could fuck you easy. 

“Yes, thank you!” You sob, feeling the tears running down the bridge of your nose. He hadn’t gave you time to rest before he slipped his dick into your still throbbing pussy, bottoming out in one thrust. 

He wastes no time and immediately fucks you, snapping his hips in a brutal pace, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You had just orgasmed and you barely had time to process everything but you just knew you were being plowed, going higher and higher than before. 

The music booming from upstairs was long forgotten. You couldn’t even hear yourself or Jaehyun. You didn’t know your moans had turned to borderline cries and sobs of pleasure and that you were full on crying, just from how good he was giving it you. You couldn’t hear the loud slapping of skin against skin that almost drowned out the bass of the music upstairs and resonated in the room. You couldn’t feel the soreness of your nipples and the pain on your knees for being on it for long. Your head was clouded with so much lust and pleasure that you couldn’t feel your anything except for the brutal fucking your pussy was receiving and the pleasure it brought. 

Jaehyun slumped over you, hands wrapping around your waist as he fucks into you, faster and hard than before. He knew you were delirious right now as he was hearing the elongated moans that you subconsciously did when you were in deep, deep pleasure. He loved it and would love to keep you in your high but he just wanted to finally reach his long awaited orgasm. He had given you enough good orgasms so he was dead set on chasing his. 

Jaehyun kept his brutal pace as he grabbed on your breasts, massaging it as he used his finger to tweak and pull at your nipples. He kissed your nape, your head and anything that his lips could reach in his position. He was almost coming and he knew you were too.mHe used his free hand to reach down between your thighs and caught your clit with his fingers, rubbing at your slippery nub, making you squeal and tighten around him. He bit his lip as he pushed more into you, now regulating the way he was rubbing at your sensitive clit. 

Your thighs start shaking, destabilizing your position, making you drop your hips, with Jaehyun falling with you so his dick went deeper into you at the force and you scream, cumming. The way your pussy was spasming and clutching on his cock which triggered his own orgasm. 

Jaehyun groaned as he rode out his orgasm, still thrusting into you, emptying his cum deep inside your pussy. At this point, you were lying on the pool table, boneless, head flying. You couldn’t see clearly and there was this ringing in your ear that wouldn’t seem to leave. You were exhausted, physically but you’ve never felt better. It was like you were so drunk with pleasure. 

Jaehyun pulled out and you groan at the feeling of loss. Your pussy clamps at nothing, and out comes his milky cum at the motion. But before it could drip to the ruined felt of the pool table, he catches it with two of his fingers, and dips it inside you, swirling his fingers and spreading his cum on your walls. 

He then brings his cum covered fingers to your face, pressing his fingers in your open mouth which was gasping for air. You take it in, as an automatic reaction and lick and suck at his fingers until there wasn’t cum anymore but not that you’d know as you were still deep in your high. 

When you finally come back down, you were still on the pool table but your cunt had been wiped clean and your dress had been fixed, but the rest of you screamed that you had just been fucked. Your nipples were painfully sore, as was your pussy. You turn and find Jaehyun who was sitting on the couch facing the pool table, on his phone and smoking. 

Jaehyun notices you’re awake and then walks over to you, a beautiful smile adorning his gorgeous face. “So how about round 2 in my room?” 

The next day, you and Jaehyun, still deep in sleep, don’t hear Johnny’s screaming about killing whoever had left cum stains on the new pool table their frat had acquired. Poor Lucas was blamed instead.

#jaehyun #Jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #johnny #taeyong #lucas #yukhei #nct smut #nct fanfic #Jaehyun au #Jaehyun x reader #Jaehyun fanfic #Jaehyun scenario #jeahyun imagines #nct fic uwu #requested

[filthyfirth]

#colin firth #green carpet fashion awards #gcfa 2020 #i just felt these shots needed to be black and white #i love suffering #filthyfirth #my edits #my gifs #event #pure concentrated daddy material

[loveistherootofhappiness]

this wasn’t on the list of prompts you posted but like,,, chimney and maddie start making out whike maddie is cooking christmas dinner and just before things start to get even more intense, buck knocks on the door 😜🙈

Long time no hear from! I’m back and I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this. But, Christmas is year round right? Thank you so much for prompting me and I hope you like what I did with it. Just a fair warning, I upped the ante just a bit 😉. This was a thrill to write, thanks again.

Also written for Countdown to Christmas

Pairing: MadneyRating: M (slightly)Word count: 1322

Can also be read here...

-----

Maddie looked around at her absolute disaster of a kitchen. Pots, pan, mixing bowls, along with several types of food and ingredients lined her stove top and counters. She sighed heavily as she ran through the checklist in her mind, making she that she hadn’t forgot to make anything. It wasn’t that she was trying to make sure everything was perfect, it was just that it was her family’s first time hosting Christmas in their new home they’d moved into a few months ago. She wanted it to be special, even though it was just going to be her and Buck’s families, the Lee’s, and Albert. Athena, Bobby, Hen and Karen were out of town with their families.

A set a solid, muscular arms wrapped around her, startling her a bit. It didn’t take long for her brain to catch up to what was happening and she settled into the hold. “I didn’t hear you come in?”

“I could have used a bullhorn and you probably wouldn’t have heard me,” he nuzzled her neck and she brought a hand up to run through his hair. Placing a kiss there, he said, “stop worrying so much, everything is going to be fine. Besides it’s just, Buck, Eddie and the kids. You know Joy, Celina, and Christopher will be fine with whatever and Buck and Eddie will eat it as long as it’s edible. Not to say that the food won’t be delicious, but...”

Maddie chucked, knowing it was true, especially about her brother. “I know, but it’s our fist time hosting Christmas here, I just want it to be special, you know.”

“Yeah, I do and it will be, so stop worrying. Everything smells great,” he placed another kiss on her neck, “especially you.”

“Chimney,” Maddie half-heartedly warned, as he continued to pepper kisses, “I have to finish this.”

He turned her in his arms, pushing her flush between the kitchen island and his body. “You’ve already finished cooking and they shouldn’t be here for another few hours.” The pure arousal in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“But I have to clean,” Maddie tried. The look in his eyes was weakening her and she knew her voice was betraying her.

He attacked her neck again, nipping and sucking. Not enough to leave marks as he knew better. He trailed up her neck, along her jawline, until he reached her lips. Against them, he asked breathily, “do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Permission granted, he picked her up and placed her on a cleanish section of the counter, and kissed her. The kiss deepened quickly with both of them moaning into it, hungry for more.

“You know,” Chimney said between breaths as he broke the kiss, “as long as we’ve lived here I don’t think we’ve Christened this room yet.”

“Oh gee, I wonder how we let that happen. I guess know is as good a time as any.” Maddie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him back into her and captured his lips again. Her hands began to roam up his chest and back down til she reached the hem of his shirt. Lifting the material, she easily slipped a hand past the elastic waistband of his pajama pants, softly caressing his underwear covered bulge and was met with a deep groan. Removing her hand, she brought hands to band of his pants and started to push them down when he moved her hands.

Breaking away from her lips, “Not yet. There’s something I want to do first, lie back.”

Maddie smirked, already knowing what that “something” was and did as she was told. As she put her back against the counter she knew it was covered in flour and sprinkles from the cookies she’d made for their daughter, she could feel it coating her back and tank top, but she didn’t care. Chimney’s eyes never left he slowly ran his fingers up her legs and thighs. She bit her lip, fighting against closing her eyes at the sensations, waiting to stay in this moment with him. She always loved the amount of love she saw in his eyes whenever they made eye contact like this.

As his fingers reached the waist band of her pajama shorts, “still good?” Maddie nodded. “Good.” As he pulled her shorts and underwear down she lifted her hips to make the slide easier. He slid them down her legs and off, tossing them out of the way. Chimney wasted no time dropping down and kissing her inner thighs. His little bites were sure to leave marks, but they could be covered. Maddie gripped the edge of the counter from behind as her moans began to increase in volume.

He stopped when he reached her center, spreading her legs a little further and pulling her body forward a little. She met his eyes again and he smirked at her before put his tongue exactly where she needed. Maddie couldn’t have been more glad that her daughter was with her uncle because the volume of the yelp she let out was probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Her back arched of the counter at the glorious feel of what he was doing to her. His hands were gripping her waist. The hand wasn’t gripping the island for dear life found its way into his hair, careful not to grip and tug.

She could feel that oh so familiar feeling in pit of her stomach. She was nearing her peak. She concentrated on the sensation, building and building until...

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?!” Chimney and Maddie said simultaneously, knowing they couldn’t have possibly heard what they thought they did. Not now.

Knock. Knock. Knock. They heard again.

Rolling her eyes, Maddie sat up, knowing the moment was over. She could see Chimney doing the same as he rose to his feet. The two of them were silent as Maddie hopped down off the island to redress, thankful their front door was nowhere near the kitchen. Looking between each other, they decided it would be best for Maddie to answer the door. Chimney had a little situation going on that he need to take care of.

Going their separate ways, with Chimney heading up to their bedroom, Maddie walked to the front door. As she opened it, she knew they’d made the right call, with their daughter and her brother greeting her. “Mommy!” Joy wrapped her arms around her.

“Hey, baby! Why are you back so soon?”

“She couldn’t wait to get the rest of her presents, and know how the little munchkin is. So we figured we go ahead and come over here,” Buck told her, juggling the presents in his arms.

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I did and so did Eddie. What were you doing?”

Maddie looked sheepish. “Oh, I was-”

“Mommy, where’s daddy?” Her daughter interrupted.

Thankful for the interruption Maddie turned her attention to Joy. “Upstairs,” Joy let her go and took off, “don’t run!” Maddie yelled without turning around. She heard to little patter of her feet grow slower.

She stepped aside to let him Buck into the house, going to grab some of the gift boxes from him, “All of Joy’s stuff is in the trunk. She opened all of what we had for her this morning,” Buck held out the boxes he was holding, “these are for you and Chimney.”

Christopher and Eddie entered the home with Celina in her car seat. “Thank you both so much for keeping her yesterday, guys. She really wanted to spend the night with her favorite Uncles.”

“It was no problem Maddie, we love having her.” Eddie answered and Maddie smiled.

After she settled the gifts under the tree, she went to go upstairs to shower and change. “Um, Maddie,” she heard her brother say.

“Yeah?”

“Is there any reason your back is covered in flour and sprinkles?”

-----

Previous works in the series: 1 2 3 4 5 6

#madney #maddie buckley #howie chimney han #maddie x chimney #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 on fox #countdown to christmas #prompt fill #fanfic asks #fanfic writing hell

[thedinanshiral]

On the Evanuris

We know not nearly enough about the Evanuris, the ancient elvhen so-called gods, and what information we have is either myth, legend, or casual commentary by an undoubtedly biased contemporary source, Solas.

While this post was inspired by a particular line Solas says in Inquisition, it’s also been requested on Twitter so i’ll try my best. First a small disclaimer, I partially subscribe to the spirit origin theory, so i’ll start there. I’m presenting another theory based on it as well, so it’s fair to say it’s mostly wild speculation on my part (but I like it!) 

At the end of All New, Faded for Her, when Solas returns to Skyhold he mentions to the Inquisitor he went to find a quiet place to sleep, dream and visit the place in the Fade where his Wisdom spirit friend used to be. Says he found it empty, “but there are stirrings of energty in the Void. Someday something new may grow there”. Which got me thinking, where do spirits come from?

Unlike those with a physical existence spirits aren't born, there's no Spirit Mommy and Spirit Daddy making Spirit Babies. Solas explains -without as much detail as i'd like- that once a Spirit “dies”, something remains and if the spirit was strong enough or inspiring enough, from what remains a new spirit may form that would inherit something of the former spirit but would not carry on its identity or memories.

So where do Spirits come from, originally? Chantry states it was the Maker, but i'm skipping that and jumping directly into creatio ex nihilo. Leaving aside the big old question of the origin of the Maker, I propose we discuss the Void a bit. People often think of the Void as an empty space or plane, the abscence of whatever, Nothing with a capital N, when it is also quite the contrary. The Void holds everything within. It's an Absolute and as such, it's everything you can think of and everything you can't think of too. It's raw unlimited potential.

Here’s a silly example: Imagine there's a chef who wants to create a new entry for their menu and have only a basket with 5 tomatos in it. They can be very creative but there will always be a limit to what one can prepare with only 5 tomatos. Now imagine this chef goes empty handed to the farmers' market; there they can pick up a variety of ingredients in whatever quantity and quality they like, and prepare many different meals.

The Maker is the Chef, the Void is the market. The Void is never truly empty, the emptyness is what one may bring into the Void but not the only thing the Void has to offer.

So maybe, just maybe, the Maker -assuming it's real- was the first spirit to form in the Void, maybe completely at random as the result of a combination of void energies, we can't know for sure. In the many creation myths of various cultures it's always a mystery how and why the first divine entities appear, in many cases it's just “and then, pop! There they were”, in others it's an act of “love”, as in the Whole being too much for/in itself breaks down into smaller fractions, generates itself a separate existence and then begins creating other forms as an expresion of the universal love that it is compelled to share with a multitude of life. Essentially all life in the universe is the Universe giving itself a big, big hug and having feelings. This form of “creation from nothing” also grants perspective, as the Absolute in producing other beings generates the possibility of different perspectives of itself.  

With that said and tying up Solas’ words with the elvhen spirit origin theory, i’d say there’s a possibility the Void is where spirits originate from, weirdly enough. This could be supported even by Chantry teachings as per the Canticle of Andraste 14:11

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.

The first “god” we hear of is the Sun. It being an early entity is evidenced in its lack of a proper name, as it's just “The Sun”, and father to the All-father, Elgar'nan. The Sun symbolises life, beginnings, the origin, as in the rising of a new day. The Sun may have been a first spirit, a concentration of  pure, raw energy in the Void, and when the generation chain resulted in different beings apart from itself who could see a different aspect of the Sun, a negative and damaging one, the Sun was overthrown and the Evanuris, its children, rose in its place. The Sun wasn’t alone, however, there was also the Earth as a female and motherly figure, who doted on her son until the Sun out of jealousy and spite burnt everything to ashes, inciting Elgar’nan’s rage.  From the tears of the Earth pooled into oceans rose Mythal as a new entity of reason to contrast with Elgarn’nan’s violent emotions. Together they restored the defeated Sun -establishing the day and night cycle – and all four restablished life and everyone lived happy forever.. Except not.  Let’s say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

From the Sun and the Earth, Elgarn’nan and Mythal came into existence and according to the myths, they generated in turn other entities that eventually became the elvhen pantheon. Falon’din, Dirthamen, June, Sylaise, Andruil. How every Evanuris embodies or represents a different aspect of life also plays in this idea of an Absolute breaking itself up into its many components. This cascade effect doesn’t end there, as later on we learn from Ghilan’nain’s example that the Evanuris could elevate others to their same godly status.  

As spirits directly descendant from the first one, the Evanuris were powerful and naturally the ones that followed came to see them as superior, divine. But as Geldauran says in their claim “There are no gods. There is only the subject and the object, the actor and the acted upon” , the Evanuris in all their power were blinded and in their perception of others as lesser beings they accepted no question of their place in the order of the world. They saw themselves at the top of the chain and not once doubted this. Perhaps the more they defined their individual identities in contrast to the others, the more they solidified into the physical world, the more “earthly” they became, more susceptible to material sensation and needs and desires, and grew more entitled and aggressive in how they took their claims over the world.

All this eventually lead to them “creating” (the Evanuris are after all called “Creators”) the elvhen, possibly more spirits of varying strengths and skills they saw could be used as servants. Some may have joined a physical world willingly, but others may have not, and no “god” would stand being refused by a lesser creature so, enter the vallaslin. Bonding magical marks, used to ground spirits and bound them in service to a particular Evanuris became proper slave markings later on as elvhen became “people” and developed a complex societal structure that expanded over two different planes of existence.

Vallaslin are blood markings, chances are they used lyrium and we know lyrium is the blood of titans; considering Dagna's experience of being tall as a mountain and thinking all the thoughts, we can imagine Titans are, similarly to the Sun, original spirits -or close enough-, entities who had not yet divided themselves into other aspects. So their blood, their nature, is in a way purer than that of the Evanuris, holds potentially more power within, and it would seem they lack distinct personalities, egos and all the nasty things that come with it. They simply existed as they were with no desire, no ambition to be more or do more. And their blood could bridge the physical existence the Evanuris had already mastered, with the spiritual existence they were possibly beginning to lose. Perhaps lyrium branding offered the possibility of bounding a spirit to the earthly plane without sacrificing its spiritual magical powers while simultaneously stripping them of the agency to use them, turning them into the tools the Evanuris needed to continue their rule.

We learn at the Shattered Library in Trespasser that elvhen and spirits were very familiar with each other, implying they had a common origin or nature, even that elvhen could choose to remain spirits, the fact they could sleep for centuries in Uthenera living in the Fade without their bodies dying would too indicate they're related somehow. The Evanuris are not specifically mentioned as retaking a spiritual form, it is however implied they were shapeshifters and favoured the form of massive powerful creatures who could exist both on ground and on air, dragons. Liminal creatures, much as they might have been themselves, neither here nor there. The dragon form was exclusively theirs, others could not “take the wings” and were punished/exiled for doing it.

The Forgotten ones may have been mirror aspects of the Evanuris who got, well, forgotten as they may have been way less popular among the people. The fact they were antagonising the Evanuris tells me they were on similar if not the same level of power/skills. The Forbidden ones could have been similar spirits-turned-people who “abandoned form”, ie returned to their spirit existence to escape the war of the Evanuris against the Forgotten Ones or the Titans. May have been elvhen servants, slaves, warriors who refused to fight a senseless war that only served the Evanuris ego and power hunger.

Then we have Solas, Fen'Harel, possibly also a powerful spirit perhaps summoned or recruited by Mythal, on similar level as the Evanuris and Forgotten ones, powerful enough to trick and imprison them all in two different levels of reality at a time when said levels knew very little distinction. He created the Veil. And while the Evanuris were trapped in the Black City, the Forgotten ones were left in “the Void”. So far his relationship to Mythal is unclear. He may have been a servant of hers, a guardian, her champion, we just don’t know yet, but it’s clear they were close. There’s a line from Cole in Trespasser “He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face ” . “He did not want a body but she asked him to come” sounds like a spirit being summoned. “He left a scar when he burned her off his face” , Solas not only has a scar on his forehead, but as Fen’Harel he erased the vallaslin of former slaves, and even offers to do it to a romanced Lavellan. Solas may have been a spirit summoned by Mythal who later for some reason decided to release himself from her service by erasing her vallaslin off his face. My guess is this may have happened after her death.

Whatever Solas’ origin is, he was powerful enough to reshape the structure of the world, and what once was all one plane became torn apart from itself. A physical world interwoven with the Fade and connected to the Void became stratified in one a strictly spiritual plane (Fade) above in the sky, a strictly unmutable physical plane (Thedas) below it, and an inaccesible abyss (Void) presumably somewhere in the underground. Still, it's interesting and worth noticing that even in Evanuris times the Void was below the rest of the world. (Andruil “descends” into the Void for her maddening hunting trips).

Next we have the issue of the Old Gods of Tevinter. It is believed the Old Gods have dragon forms that slumber in the underground and that they communicated with men through dreams, teaching them secrets of magic the then new human civilization used to build a powerful empire.

There are considerable similarities between the OG and the Evanuris, not just in number and attributes but I suspect also in nature.

Maybe, just maybe, the dragon forms were like mounts. Mindless creatures the Evanuris could possess, or maybe by getting trapped away from the physical world somehow the Evanuris had their spirit severed from their bodies, with their spirits trapped in the fade and their dragon bodies -that they most likely used for battle- parked in the Thedas underground garage. Remember ancient elvhen could separate spirit and body while sleeping without their bodies dying, when they entered Uthenera, and while that suspended state lasted, servants would tend to their sleeping bodies. Maybe that's what darkspawn originally were. Servants charged with looking after the Evanuris dragon bodies while not in use, trapped underground after the Veil was created and drove to madness like the rock wraiths of the primeval thaig, who later became darkspawn. By the time the Magister Sidereal reach the Black City the corruption, the Blight, already existed. The Blight exists since Evanuris times. For all we know the Blight is an inmmune response of Titans treating the elvhen as parasites/viruses attacking them, assimilating them somehow – as Titans/dwarves had a hivemind, so do the Darkspawn through the Archdemon's song-. If the dragons sleeping underground belonged to the Evanuris and had servants looking after them, i imagine being trapped in the Void for millenia, a place that even pre-Veil had corruption, must have affected them gravely. 

It most likely took the Evanuris some time to recover after getting trapped away from the world by Solas. And when they finally gathered the strength to project through dreams, say they find human dreamers instead of their own people and learn the world they knew is destroyed, the elvhen are conquered, enslaved, abused, powerless. The elven people are no longer of use to the Evanuris so they turn their eyes and attention to the conquerors, the powerful ones, the ones they can use. So the Evanuris take on new identities as the Old Gods (as the humans wouldn’t adopt the same gods as the conquered, defeated people), and begin manipulating humans in dreams, sharing ancient powerful magic with them, proving they're real, guiding Tevinter into hegemony.

The Tevinter imperium becomes the spiritual successor of Elvhenan. Powerful empire ruled by mages under the banner of powerful entities built on the back of slaves and the abuse of magic falls and is replaced by....a powerful empire ruled by mages under the banner of powerful entities built on the back of slaves and the abuse of magic? Yeah.

The Evanuris played Tevinter, though, played nice and friendly for a while, built up that human trust in them, made them rely on them, only to suddenly and without any warning ghost them, pulling humans into despair, fear, anxiety, fear of abandonment, fear of losing all the power they had amassed. Until suddenly gods started talking again, and now humas were so terrified of losing them twice of course they'd do anything the gods asked of them without any doubts, of course they'd blindly follow their gods' requests no matter how outrageous or great. So Old God say “break open the Veil, hop on into the Fade and join us in power to rule as gods” and they just go for it.

It's possible the Evanuris wanted to possess the Magister Sidereal and that's why each old god's priest was present. But shit happens and everyone gets tainted. Now with the Veil temporarily broken it's also possible the Evanuris spirits were drawn to their dragon forms underground, unfortunately unable or too weak to awaken them themselves -possessing powerful mages, dreamers at that, would have been an entirely different story. So they use an ancient “connection” with the descendant of their servants, now turned darkspawn, compelling them to find them and dig them out at any cost.It's been said time and time again the darkspawn taint the Old God dragons and turn them into Archdemons but it's not entirely impossible the dragons are already tainted, and that's how they can connect with the darkspawn in the first place.

This would explain why Solas is so against eliminating the Old Gods, why Flemythal and Morrigan had knowledge of rituals to separate their souls from the dragons. I suspect the Old Gods ARE the Evanuris, or vessels of their spirits at the very least. Among the constellations found via astrariums there's one for each Old God, but also one called “Draconis” which doesn't match any Old God and is suspected to have been the representation of an 8th Old God that got taken down from hystory (there's one of a wolf as well..). The “god” that got eliminated was Mythal and of all Evanuris she's the one most strongly identified with and represented as a dragon. Not only that, the dragon in Draconis is one with a single tail body and its two wings open rising in flight, very reminiscing of the half-woman/half-dragon statues of Mythal where the lower female body is shown wearing a long skirt.

Side tracking a bit here but we know who from the Evanuris were problematic: Elgar'nan was too impulsive and violent, Falon'din was an attention seeking arse who relished so much in the worship he received he actively promoted war to increase the number of deaths and therefore the following he had as “guide of the dead”, Ghilan'nain was the elvhen equivalent of a mad scientist gene-splicing anything that moved, Andruil was a blood thirsty hunter and possibly also hunted for slave labour. Mythal was a judge and possibly the voice of conscience of all of them until perhaps they tired of hearing her draw lines for their antics and decided to take her off the picture for good, and Fen'Harel was most likely one of Mythal's champions/warriors/knights/guardians who got done with all the infighting that cost the life of his dear friend and was destroying their world. The remaining three don't really appear much in the lore available, Dirthamen is Falon'din's twin yet as god of secrets and knowledge (similar to Razikale, the Old God of Mystery, one of the two Archdemons left) there's not much known about him other than he loved his brother.

The ones we least know about are June and Sylaise. June god of craft and Sylaise Hearthkeeper were apparently a couple, married, and makes sense because much of crafting requires a constant well kept fire. I suspect they were on the neutral side and may have aided Fen'Harel in secret, because when you mix a god of crafts with a goddess of the hearth you get a forge and the Dread Wolf's base in Trespasser had an armory and ancient elven armor and weaponry were nicely designed. Solas doesn't have anything to say about them ever during the entire game, unlike how he reacts to Andruil and Falon'din, and unlike the Dalish myths of him with Ghilan'nain ...as far as i can recall there's nothing that links June and Sylaise or even Dirthamen with Fen'Harel, specifically. It's so clean a slate it's almost as if it was squaky cleaned on purpose to hide something...

And that’s all for now. It’s a lot to process, I know, my head hurts too but it’s finally out of it. I’m leaving a lot of minor details out because this is already long enough. In the near future i’ll hopefully analyse some characters like Ghilan’nain and Andruil individually.

Thanks for reading!

#Dragon Age #Evanuris #Fen'Harel #Mythal #Tevinter #Dragon Age 4