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tswaney17 · 3 days
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49
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It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺
The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.
Word Count: 7,225
Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.
She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.
On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.
Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.
Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.
“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”
She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”
Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.
She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”
“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”
How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.
But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.
He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.
She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.
 His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”
Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”
She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”
Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”
This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”
He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.
Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.
Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”
He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”
This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.
Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.
Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”
He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”
She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”
Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.
Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.
Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”
Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.
Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.
He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”
“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”
He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.
“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”
His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”
He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”
Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.
His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”
Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”
She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”
“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.
“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.
Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
She grinned. “You spoil me.”
He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.
But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.
All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.
“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.
She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”
Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”
The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.
“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.
Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”
Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.
But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.
No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.
Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.
Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.
More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.
“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”
Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t.
~~~~~
Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.
Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.
Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.
It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.
“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.
He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.
“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”
Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.
Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”
But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.
His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.
Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.
“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.
She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.
He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”
Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.
Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” Elain growled.
That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”
“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.
Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”
His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.
Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”
He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”
She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”
“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”
Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”
He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”
She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”
“In the car,” he confirmed.
“Kaden’s overnight bag?”
“In the car.”
“The car seats for the twins?”
He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”
Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.
Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”
And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.
Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”
Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”
His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.  
A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.
She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”
He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.
But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”
Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.
After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.
Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.
They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.
Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.
“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.
The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”
He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”
She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.
Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.
Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
And so, they waited.
Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.
He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.
Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.
Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”
Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.
Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.
But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.
His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.
“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.
“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.
He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”
Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.
The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”
Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.
They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.
Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.
The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.
Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.
Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.
“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.
He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.
“Suction,” Chen ordered.
“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”
“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.
So, he did what any father would do.
He prayed.
He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”
Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.
His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”
And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.
Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.
“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”
His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.
She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.
The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.
Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.
He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.
~~~~~
Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.
“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.
Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.
Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.
She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”
He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.
Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.
Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.
It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.
Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.
She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.
Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.
Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.
“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.
He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”
Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”
“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”
“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”
At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”
She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.
He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”
Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.
Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.
She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.
“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.
Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”
He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”
She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.
His head dipped in confirmation.
Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”
He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.
She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.
Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”
“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”
Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.
“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.
Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.
“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.
She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”
He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.
“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.
Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.
It put her on this very path.
She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.
“Perfect.”
She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.
“Your first family photo.”
Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”
He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”
“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”
“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”
Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”
His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”
“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.
They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.
Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕
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intheholler · 2 days
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Any recommendations for catchy songs about specific American historical events? Hurricane by The Band of Heathens (unless I'm mistaken, it's pretty explicitlu about Katrina) and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald are examples.
i love the song hurricane, but i didn't know about the other til now. thank you for the inadvertent rec!
also i don't know about catchy necessarily but i do have a few historical event tunes to recommend.
It's About Blood by Steve Earle is about West Virginia coal mining disasters, at the end of which he lists by name around two dozen victims of specific disasters. this one gives me chills. this whole album Ghosts of West Virginia does actually
Big Time in the Jungle by Old Crow Medicine Show is about snatching up poor, uneducated southern boys and shippin em off to Vietnam. pretty catchy, v fuckin dark by the end
Battle of Blair Mountain by David Rovics is about,, well,, the battle of blair mountain
Seneca Creek by Charles Wesley Godwin mentions the WV flood of 1985 though is about the singer's grandparents iirc
... and as i made this list i realized i sure talk a lot about and revere west virginia for someone whos never lived there (but plans to <3). anyway here's some stuff to balance it
Casey Jones by The Grateful Dead is about a conductor in Tennessee who stayed on a runaway train to let others escape to safety and ultimaetly died (and is catchy as fuck actually)
Battle of New Orleans by Johnny Horton is pretty straightforwardly about the war of 1812
Ohio by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young is about the Kent State Massacre
American Pie by Don McClean was written in response to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson Jr. i feel like everyone knows this song but maybe not the actual meaning, i didn't know til a few years ago. so maybe i'm just behind
anyway if yall know any please add in reblogs or leave in the replies, i love this kinda thing
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thedeathlysallows · 2 days
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Is It Over Now? (12)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon
Summary: You drew up some good faith treaties
Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator.
Tag list: @callsignwidow
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Aemond is gone, but Vhagar returns after two days time, reuniting with Vermithor. Their happy roars echo across King's Landing and it fills your heart with a bittersweet emotion you can't quite name. Is Aemond thinking of you at all in Harrenhal? You know you're thinking of him. Constantly. The smell of him lingers on the bed sheet, on your clothes, and on your skin, fading with each passing day. You feel uneasy without your husband around.
On the third day of his absence a letter arrives strapped to Vhagar's saddle. It's a letter from Aemond, written in High Valyrian. He tells you about Daemon's attempted siege and how Harrenhal withstood it all. He tells you how House Strong no longer stands, their ancestral home now belonging to him. He tells you about a woman. Alys Rivers. She's a supposed bastard of Lyonel Strong, older than Harwin and Larys, but he's taken her as a prisoner of war.
It doesn't sit right with you, the way he talks about this woman. His tone is almost... love sick.
He tells you that you would like her, and you decide to be the judge of that.
Getting out of the Keep won't be simple. None of the guards will allow you to just walk out the front gate... plus, you're certain Aegon himself is still keeping an eye on you. All of your secret tunnels are gone, sealed up by Aemond weeks ago. So, what's left? How can you escape?
Vermithor's loud roar reverberates through the Keep and you dash to the window of your bedchamber. He soars through the sky, dancing along with Vhagar in graceful arches. You let out a low pitched whistle and his head turns in your direction, mighty wings changing his path mid-swoop. Before you can question yourself, you climb on the window ledge and jump, hoping Vermithor understands what you need him to do.
The months the two of you spent apart melt into nothing as you crash on his large back, quiet understanding passing between dragon and rider. Vhagar comes up on your left. Her eyes are old and knowing as she dips her head towards you and takes the lead. You aren't sure which direction Harrenhal is, but both dragons seem to understand what it is you need.
Who it is you need.
Harrenhal is not a pleasant place by any stretch of the imagination. Death seems to linger in the very air, pressing down on your chest and making you want to run and hide. You don't though. You dismount Vermithor with your head held high, already missing the warmth and familiarity of him. He remains as close to you as he can, head swinging back and forth as if waiting for an ambush.
"Easy," you tell him with a gentle pat. "Stay with Vhagar. You'll keep each other safe."
Vermithor huffs at you, smoke billowing from his nostrils. He'll listen only until he senses you're in danger.
As you enter what remains of Harrenhal, you're greeted by Aegon and Aemond's soldiers. Each one bows to you with sheepish expressions. It's as if they know something you don't.
"Where is my husband?" Your gaze flits from soldier to soldier, none of them willing to speak up. "Well?"
"The Great Hall. m'lady," one finally says.
You march past the soldiers, eyes fixed firmly ahead, tuning out the whispers of the men as you leave. Tears sting your eyes but you won’t allow yourself to be humiliated further by crying in front of them. Any of them. Your cheat of a husband included. Because why else would the soldiers stare at you with such pity? Why else would they whisper behind your back? Aemond is fucking the Rivers woman.
There’s simply no other explanation.
“Aemond,” you call out as you enter the Great Hall.
Before you see him you hear a feminine giggle and the soft rumbling of Aemond’s voice.
“Clearly I need to make my presence better known, husband.” Your shoulders tense and you tilt your chin higher as you take in the sight before you. “It seems I took your men off guard… as well as you.”
Aemond doesn’t move from his seat at the head of the high table, doesn’t move to put Alys Rivers off his lap, doesn’t look at you with anything less than anger. In fact, if it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest you could almost believe the shock of seeing you sent him into the arms of the Stranger.
“Aemma,” he finally breathes out your name, shoving Alys to the side. “Why are you here? How are you here? Aegon should’ve had you under lock and key.”
“It seems the bond between dragons is stronger than we all thought.” You give him a non answer. “Did you know Vhagar has been coming to see Vermithor since you departed? She led us here, the smart girl. I wonder what she wanted me to find?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“And you shouldn’t be fucking a woman who isn’t your wife! You despise your brother for the very thing you’re now doing. So what is it, Aemond? Are you the honorable man I’ve always cared for or are you a liar no better than his brother?”
Aemond’s violet gaze seems to pierce your soul as he stalks toward you. “Right now I’m a man worried for his wife’s safety. What do you think will happen when they find you missing at the Keep?”
“What do you think will happen when I tell your mother her favorite son is no different than her eldest?” You don’t know why you’re saying these things. All you know is that you want Aemond to hurt. You want to hurt him.
He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting briefly. “You don’t understand what’s happening here. We need Alys-“
“Oh, we do? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we needed someone to keep your bed warm while-“
“Leave!”
But his order isn’t directed at you. Instead, Alys (who had been listening very intently to the conversation) offers a quick curtesy and leaves the Great Hall. You stand completely still and quiet, waiting for the swish of her skirts to disappear completely. Once it does you turn back to Aemond who still wears a thunderous expression.
You clear your throat. “I’ll give you one minute to explain what I saw and what your grand plan seems to be.”
“And after I explain?”
“I… haven’t decided. We’ll see once you explain.” Part of you is ready to go back to Vermithor and not even wait for an explanation. It’s the same part of you that is vaguely considering running back into Aegon’s arms. But you won’t do either of those things until Aemond has a chance to explain.
Aemond nods as if reading your mind. “There are whisper that Alys Rivers is a witch with a penchant for seeing the future. We need her. Having her power on our side could end the war tomorrow.”
“End the war… and in this plan, does my mother come out of the war alive?”
“That depends on what Alys sees.”
“You’re giving this strange woman a lot of power and importance.”
Aemond sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s a command from the King. I’m to keep her happy and ensure her loyalty.”
“So she gets to sit on your lap and play the part of a princess while I’m locked away?”
His smile is wry when he says, “you don’t currently appear to be locked away.”
You don’t respond to his attempt at levity. “I don’t like this, Aemond.”
“I know. I know. Just trust me, please. Alys will never compare to you.”
You aren’t sure if you believe him, but for now you’ll leave the matter alone.
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impeccablebackside · 1 month
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is the classical 69 something the queens would like?
Of course it would be anon. I am actually surprised no one has asked something like this before. I try to mention positions in my fics / asks, but sometimes the specifics are lacking in favour of a more generalized description. A few 69 fun times have been thrown out here and there, more notably in the beginning of this fic and in the second half of this fic, but anything else has been much more sporadic.
That being said, who the hell would not enjoy getting a face full of their partner while they themselves are getting some attention? I could not think of any tom / guy would not beg to be in that position, and honestly most of the queens would not be much different. I am sure it goes without saying that I would lay myself down in an instant. Forget receiving, I would absolutely love to just bury my face in someone's pussy.
Anyway, much has been discussed over the course of this blog about all sorts of things that correlate with this to some degree. There has been an ask about favourite positions (and least fave too), beautiful face riding, generalized cock riding, divine fingering, preferred spanking positions, and even ones about preference for cum or 'grool' (which still not 100% on that term but whatevs). They all give a bit of context to your ask I would say.
Vic is not huge on 69ing because it lacks a bit of the intimacy that she always craves. With Plato, having a face full of his dick is great, but she loves making eye contact when giving oral so much that if she cannot see her mans melt at her pleasure, it is just not as fun. Part of that does go by the wayside though when he is licking at her with a desire that is impossible to match. Getting eaten out makes the white queen excited to reciprocate. Plus, once Plato feels her mouth around his cock, he is even more desperate, quickening his tongue and also thrusting into Vic's mouth for more. While that is always guaranteed to be a good time, any sort of 69ing between them gets to be even better when Plato flexes his muscles and takes control. He will grab his beauty around her hips, wrapping his strong arms to cradle her as he lifts her up. With a multitude of kisses on her cheeks, he easily spins her lithe body around, eating her out with her legs flailing around his head as she dangles in his hands. When they are 'chest to chest' so speak, Vic will reciprocate the oral love, starting slowly before getting into it as her lust and pleasure builds.
With another queen, 69ing becomes more common, and she does like pinning Rumple down and going wild on the calico’s pussy. Licking and fingering with glee, Vic enjoys herself in a playful manner as she makes the smaller queen moan.
Rumple and her male partners do not delve into too much 69ing in their fun. Most of the time, it is a one act at a time sort of thing that allows for maximal focus and enjoyment to be pulled from each lick or stroke. While she is always on the lookout to cum as much as she can, there is something special about stretching sex out as long as possible so that there is more to enjoy. When her and Mungo end up 69ing, it is constant flip-flop of them looking to be on top while still giving it to the other. Rumple always wins that battle though, as she loves whatever face riding she can get in. Sometimes them ending up in that position is innocently, with them practicing their double cartwheel and getting carried away when the lust overcomes one or both of them.
With another queen, any position is well received, and she does love feeling another's soft body pressed into hers with want. She starts as a licker, but ends up sneaking a few fingers in when she wants the other queen to fall apart.
Tanto's favourite position is actually 69ing with another queen. Specifically, she looks to have both parties laying on their sides rather than one on top of the other. With this she can focus on another queen's pussy, but still get a peek at their expression. Plus, she can wrap her legs around the other queen's head and neck, pushing her hips into their face. The overall shared desire and action between both parties is what makes it a preferred position for her. As much as she loves little more than connecting physically and spiritually with another during any form of intimacy, the feral need and want that takes over her when she is face-to-pussy figuratively and literally gives her the best pleasure. Plus, it is always a special thing for all involved when she squirts onto then faces of other when she cums. That is hot as all shit anon.
Cass quite enjoys 69ing, even if it is not her favourite way of getting it. When she is on the bottom, she invites her partner to use her mouth and throat as they please. Being able to deepthroat them as they lick and finger her perfect pussy is a place of true bliss for the sleek brown queen. Enjoying it so much that she purrs around thier girth, and that always makes them chase the pleasure more. On top, it is much of the same. She has more room and freedom to wrap her lips around a cock and give them her tom something they will rarely forget. No matter what, she always pulls offs and jerks her tom until they shoot cum all over her face.
A similar premise works with other queens, as she invites them to go as hard as they want on her. She prefers a partner who is more active, and will match that energy.
Deme is not really a fan, particularly when she is on the bottom. It feels too trapping to be pinned down in a way, and she does not get the enjoyment she should. On top, she fares much better, though she prefers to jerk her man while facesitting if she can. Munk does not care at all, and is happy to have her whatever way he can. Realistically, the pleasure they get out of more traditional positions gives them a better experience.
Bomba does not have a specific position she likes more than others (aside from being pinned against a wall / object in some way), so 69ing is always a fun time and guaranteed to be worth remembering between her and her partner. She gives a passionate, messy blowjob when the mood gets particularly lustful, getting egged on by whoever is taking her apart between her legs. She mostly prefers being on top so that she can pushed herself down and put some force into the encounter. Specifically, she will push her hips into Tugger's mane / face when she feels him easing off.
With queens, she simply likes the premise of being interwoven like that during sex, mutual licking and moaning carrying both parties.
Jenny is not big on the idea. The position is not comfortable enough for her or her partner to fully get into it. She prefers her big guy between her legs eating her out until he gets a figurative reward from her after finishing his meal. Lots of 'desert' type stuff to go around with her.
Jelly's least favourite position is 69ing. While she enjoys getting her kitty licked, she is simply not a fan of giving blowjobs. Even if she can jerk her partner off, it still is not as enjoyable as other things.
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sunriseinorbit · 8 months
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yusuke was literally erased from the sayuri, his mother's final gift to him and the only thing he has to remember her by, for profit and greed and fame and vanity and just because madarame could, it's no fucking wonder he's so afraid of creating art for material gain during his confidant
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miallurk · 4 months
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In these days i realized i like art and writing and creating and shopping and taking walks and talking to people and cleaning and helping and studying and doing things but i'm just. too stressed, tired and burned out to do them. How great!
#i am losing my sanity day by day#drowning myself in the nearby lake seems better and better every day#why am i even writing this i have literally no mutuals or even people who'd care about#don't mind me crying myself to sleep haha#ooooh look at this pathetic baby. sitting in their little bed crying stupid tears. i should at least get tissues now while my crying isn't#fuck history fuck school and fuck me i quess#am i gonna start treating this as an actual blog and make a sideblog for reblogs? who knows! certainly not me; stay tuned for the story!#i'm gonna go and just let it all out into a pillow#vent ig#my mom is blasting holiday music in the other room lol#nice to have a whatever the fuck im having while “jingle bells” plays#at least i'm not hearing mariah carey ig#anyway i've probably hadn't been taking care of myself lately it has been worse despite me promoting it to everyone who needs#when i vented last time and it wasn't taken seriously so woop#anyway imma go try to calm myself and back to my notes i go#please gods what did i do to deserve thi s shit. fuck you#i hate it here i really do. i hate when these people talk to me i hate them. i at least can be sorta accquaitances with one but they just.#all stare and laugh? i actually can't. like i'm some fucking clown and laughing stock. just kill me at this point. i have been enduring this#for YEARS and suddenly i'm being a little bitch about it?? what the fuck. why am i so mushy all of a sudden. being shown an ounce of respect#and care made me expect it more? fuck#i'm just setting myself up for failure. i am just a giant loser and failure of a person.#everything seems so fucking hard. and pointless. i am tearing my rotten little heart apart with this. i am once again grieving things#long ago and things i never had. my everything has to be pleasing to an outsider#my value is my suffering. am i breaking enough? is this beautiful to look at#at my self destruction? i hate myself. i treat others so cruelly. i am a horrible fucking person.#my problems are not their burden - i forced it on them. wept like a baby because she left me. and what happened in the end? my paranoia got#to me. i left them. i fucking. i fid the thing i was afraid of being done to me.#this is showing so many issues.#so many things wrong with me. i shouldn't even be alive by this point - i wasn't supposed to survive past 12#i am being forced to do this every day. someone please just end my fu king suffering
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b4kuch1n · 11 months
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oh my gods I know what adam's fighter is gonna look like now. holy shit. its gonna be SO GROSS I canNOT fucking wait
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nostalgia-tblr · 1 year
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Today I wrote about 900 words \o/ But only 100 of those were in the thing I wanted to add words to :( And most of them are in the wrong chapter. :( :(
#i know i need to finish the next AU chapter - just today i thought “they've been stuck mid-shag for ages. her legs must be sore by now”#but it's okay! fictional characters don't experience the flow of time when they're not being written! i assume!#i also thought “oh for fuck's sake stop wangsting [sic] about your illegitimate wean” oh no i am sick of the main plotline!!!#look as long as this next chapter is posted before march of next year i won't have broken my “longest time stuck between chapters” record#this is why many people don't read WIPs isn't it?#one scene requires the main characters to talk about their feelings for each other - URGH!!!#(but everyone who was worrying about how far AU!Sylvie is just in this for the sperms can relax as you will FIND OUT in chapter 5!)#(also i'm pretending it's making An Ironic Statement that i wrote fic about the woes of historical queens and she's not the PoV character)#(but actually i just didn't want to have to write lots of pregnancy stuff. this way i can lock her in a darkened room for much of that)#(oh god i'm so sorry AU!Sylvie the Confinement thing seemed like a good idea at the time... well no it always seemed fucked up. but.)#(and! chapter 6 makes things a bit clearer about what Unspecified Tasks AU!Loki has been doing off-screen. clue: it involves knives.)#(chapter 7 will be Mostly Filth but also a Shocking Cliffhanger!)#(and chapter 8 brings The Ending! gosh what a thrilling ride lies ahead when/if i actually finish writing this story! stay tuned!)#but no i'm gonna go now and see if i can at least get her legs into a more comfortable position#the sylki au that got longer and wronger#don't believe the hype#fic related
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firelord-frowny · 2 years
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ok i have a 70% serious question omfg
is there any possible way to ask/suggest that someone who's unskilled at a thing to stop trying to give ~helpful advice~ to someone who's highly skilled without sounding rude/dismissive/arrogant/etc??
omfg like
there is a Particular Person who STAYS commenting on some of my violin stuff with absolutely wrong and useless bullshit like ~remember, you don't need to press super hard on the string for pizzicato~ which is just?? BLATANTLY AND UNEQUIVOCALLY FALSE AND LITERALLY ANYONE WHO'S A HALFWAY DECENT PLAYER KNOWS THIS, but overconfident ~amateurs~ be parroting that shit all the time because it's what beginners are taught so they don't put too much strain on their joints/ligaments/muscles/tendons before they've built up enough strength and endurance to handle it long-term. And most of these overconfident amateur players, I guaranfuckingtee you, continue to believe that ~beginner~ technique is Correct In All Circumstances, hence why they never improve, hence why they confidently butcher difficult pieces, hence why they feel perfectly empowered to go forth and ~teach~ other amateur players the same bad techniques and false information.
and i legit find myself feeling angry??? when some such person, in all their mediocre glory, posting all their lil videos of themselves being loud and wrong as they butcher a piece that's HELLA above their paygrade and play not one single note in tune or even with good tone quality, shows up on MY demonstration of a properly executed technique with some ~It Helps If You [thing that doesn't help]~
so far i just have been ignoring those kinds of comments but given that i have a really fucking personal beef with shitty players who are even shittier teachers who con people into paying them money to teach them, there's a bigass part of me that wants to call them out directly and suggest that they actually go and learn a fucking thing or two about legitimate violin technique before they have the goddamn gall to go tossing unsolicited ~advice~ at Actual Professionals, LET ALONE taking people's money to ~teach~ them all that Wrong Bullshit.
but despite my upsetness and my desire to make shitty teachers aware of what they need to improve on before they should feel comfortable taking anyone's money, i'm ALSO hellaaaaaaaa non-confrontational and am averse to initiating any kind of interaction that seems like it may result in a soured relationship or hurt feelings or just cause someone to look at me in a negative light on account of me being, idk, elitist or arrogant or condescending.
i just
want!
to be able to tell someone directly that their entire understanding of violin technique is based on the most basal, rudimentary aspects of beginner technique and is not just inadequate for, but also damaging to the pursuit of learning advanced technique, and that they're doing everyone who ever has a ~lesson~ with them an AWFUL disservice and are undoubtedly setting them up for total failure and that the fact that they even felt comfortable trying to offer ~technical suggestions~ to a player who is blatantly LIGHTYEARS beyond their skill level is a glaring and troubling indicator that they truly have absolutely no genuinely useful knowledge or understanding about classical music full stop - not just as it relates to violin technique. (bc let's be real, if you play SO BADLY that exactly 0 notes are in perfect intonation and your string crossings are jacked the hell up and your left-hand-articulation is a weak, garbled SHITSHOW and you somehow still manage to think you're doing it right, you're not just a bad player - you're also very probably tone deaf, and definitely have shitty taste, and your musical deficiencies are way more profound than just being a poor violinist.)
but all those words sound mean no matter what order i put them in or what synonyms i swap shit out for :(
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wiltingdecay · 6 months
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i get sick of one mobile app and go back to a different mobile app. such is the way of life
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southislandwren · 9 months
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writing my scholarship thank you notes as if im not already planning on skipping the awards banquet to go see a total solar eclipse in texas lol
#'by accepting this scholarship you are agreeing to come to the scholarship banquet' or somethin i forgot the exact phrase.#but like. everyone ive talked to (minus 1 person) has been like uhhhhmmmm obviously you should go see a total solar eclipse???#so like. i know my advisor and dept secretary and lact prof will have my back during the banquet#'oh yeah hopes sick or something today. yeah couldnt come. shes definitely not in texas with her family or anything'#anyway. i gotta like learn about solar photography before april so i can at least come back from texas with something#this morning i got to see some stars which was nice. i was staring at the sky forlornly and my coworker was like you okay?#and i was like yeah.. the stars are taunting me though#they know i havent been able to go out and really see them since april. and its too light out for me to orient myself#so i dont even know who im looking at right now.#and she was like oh you cant find the big dipper? and i was like yeah pretty much.#man i love stargazing and i love space and i just wanna be nocturnal again :(#my coworker's been waking up at 3:30 this week since one of our bosses is out of town and we were talking about that#and i looked at my boss and said if you asked me to wake up at 3:30am for two weeks straight i'd probably just quit.#and i think that scared him a lil but i followed it up with i will gladly stay up until 2am watching for calves. so maybe hes not 2 scared#okay anyway. im gonna fuck around with my pride and joy. my tunes spreadsheet#diary post
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honoviadakai · 2 months
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Badly summarizing Hazbin Hotel songs: season 1
Happy Day In Hell:
Local nepo baby is very optimistic for someone who was born and raised in hell but damn it if you don’t find it a little endearing.
Hell Is Forever:
Your gut feeling about the pastor’s son was correct and he is indeed an annoying prick who likes to act God’s always got his back.
Stayed Gone:
Demon Jeff Bezos finds out his Ex is in town, isn’t happy about it and tries to slander the man only for his ex to immediately clap back and serve everyone some piping hot tea.
It Starts With Sorry:
Some of ya’ll are way too forgiving and it really shows…you’re lucky you dorks are adorable.
Respectless:
A 4’11 Millennial bitch serves absolute ✨CUNT✨ at a meeting she didn’t want to attend, local MILF is not amused.
Whatever It Takes:
A MILF and a lesbian sing about how they’d willingly die for the ones they love. It’s sweet but deeply concerning.
Poison:
Local twink took “conceal, don’t feel” way too seriously and now you’ll never be ok again. Have fun in therapy.
Loser Baby:
A DILF and a twink sing about how they’re the biggest losers in hell and it’s the sweetest fucking thing you’ll ever see in your god damn life.
Hell’s Greatest Dad:
2 grown ass men fight for custody over a grown ass woman.
More Than Anything:
The literal king of hell loves his child more than your father will ever love you and you just gotta live with that.
Welcome To Heaven:
The polite Christians are trying to convert you, but they’re really good at show tunes so I ain’t even mad.
You Didn’t Know:
Vindication for everyone who’s the black sheep of their family and now have religious trauma.
Out For Love:
Local MILF hypes up her newly adopted lesbian daughter by telling her love is the ultimate murder weapon.
Ready For This:
Local nepo baby discovers that the fastest way to get cannibals to fight for you is through show tunes and the promise of flesh.
More Than Anything (Reprise):
No, the two leading females are not “just really close friends.” You were told well before this moment.
Finale:
While the main cast is having a Bob the builder moment, 3 local bastards are promising to fuck shit up next season and the person you least expected is having a mental breakdown in the break room.
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Text
Him (Them)
( So I decided 'fuck it' pitch pearl babyyy, I've seen other people do this ship and decided well why the hell not right. Anyways have fun!)
~
Phantom and his council were finally in the end processes to a peace treaty with Earth,
As years went on from what was once only the USA with their Ecto-Acts got worse. The GIW began opening in other countries without them truly realizing what they were allowing, until the Infinity Realms were at the point of declaring war on all of Earth itself.
The only reason that managed not to happen was because of Phantom finally being able to contact the Justice League and sit them down to have an actual conversation about everything that was going on.
That's where they were right now the world leaders, the 3 founders of the JL , and High King Phantom with his council arguing back and forth the peace treaty.
Phantom turned as one of the men stood up
" And just how are we supposed to truly trust you and yours to not take over or cause harm to our people?"
Others began chiming in, arguing that there was no true guarantee in what Phantom was saying.
Until a voice towards the back called out an idea
" Marriage! To truly unite our worlds in peace King Phantom must marry one of our own!"
Phantom subtly tensed the idea of a loveless marriage to a complete stranger made his core tremble with rage.
He glanced around seeing the looks of the people around him, he saw their greed for his power and status, their point for the marriage would be to control him or at least give them an advantage.
Phantom tuned out the arguing between the JL and the rest.
Thinking of what to say to get out of this situation without risking the treaty.
Snapping back to attention holding back a sharp smirk.
" Gentlemen if what you fear is the safety of your people then do not fret I have protected and saved your people and world since my creation, as for your request of a marriage to unify our world then I have wonderful news for I am already married to one of your people and even have children with him."
Phantom looked at the shocked faces around him, a couple grimacing or frowning at their missed opportunity to have control and access to him by one of their chosen.
A rather stupid man for what else could he be with what he said next.
" Then divorce him and marry someone that we find more suitable!"
Phantom's form distorted around him as he processed what he had just heard.
" Divorce? You wish for me to Divorce my husband, the one who I cherish above all else, the one I have shared my core the very being of myself with. The one who I gave my very being and soul to create our children. The one who is half my being, the one who if not for him we wouldn't be speaking at this moment because it was only his word that kept me from declaring war on your world."
"Make no mistake I do wish for peace between our worlds, many of my people are from this world and would like to continue to stay or visit especially for their loved ones, and I would like that for them without the danger of being hunted and torn apart."
"For if I wished war your planet would not stand a chance for what is a few million of your soldiers compared to my infinite soldiers that only would continue to grow as yours died."
"For him I fought and won against the previous tyrant King for daring to to cause him pain, the very King who only was defeated previously by the combined efforts of the strongest in the Infinite Realms, The very same King I defeated alone."
"So please do continue talking against my husband."
"..."
"What is his name?"
"Danny Fenton."
~
Just an Idea
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goldsbitch · 19 days
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You texted...
Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.
angst, one shot
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The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.
Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.
Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.
"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."
Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"
No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."
Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.
"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."
"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.
"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"
Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.
"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."
Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.
"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"
"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"
"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.
Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.
"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.
//
Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.
"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.
"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."
"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.
"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.
"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"
"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.
"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.
"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."
"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."
"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."
"Does he know that?"
"No?"
Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."
"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.
"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."
"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"
Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."
"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.
"What did you text?"
"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."
"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."
They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.
//
A doorbell rang.
"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.
"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"
"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"
"Gotcha."
She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?
But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.
"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.
"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"
"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.
"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.
The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.
She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.
Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"
"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.
"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."
The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.
"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."
She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.
"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"
It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.
Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.
"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."
He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.
"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."
"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.
"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."
She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.
"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.
"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.
"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."
He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."
She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.
She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.
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tacticalprincess · 1 month
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Bro… I love your writing sm. I need another/multiple docs about the Eiffel tower between Konig and Simon.. like imagine y’all are roommates and just causally fuck every weekend and get drunk lmao.
Need that in my life. Anyway. Have a great day and stay hydrated 🫶🏻
simon x afab!f!reader x könig
you’re all pleasantly buzzed and warm from distributing a bottle around between the three of you — though they may have skipped their turns a few times when you weren’t paying attention — and somehow it became your turn to be passed around their broad laps. they already have to restrain themselves from being all over you sober, but the more alcohol that passes through their system, the greedier their hands tend to get. not that you mind, your inhibitions lowered meant feeling especially touchy and horny, letting yourself bask in the feeling of being groped by and made out with by your two doting, giant men.
“i got first tonight,” simon heaves out, smiling at the way your kiss-swollen lips trail after his, the way you mewl cutely at the loss of contact. he pats your hip. “gotta break ‘er in and all that. ‘s been a while, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”
“you got first the last three times. don’t need you boring her to sleep before i get to her again.” könig brushes your hair out of your face gingerly, heart clenching at the way you drunkenly preen into his touch. “not that she’d mind.”
“think the phrase you’re lookin’ for is ‘wearin’ her out’…”
they’re talking about you like you’re not there, and it really should be degrading, but you like the fact that you can turn your brain off when they’re around, trusting them to take care of you, making all the decisions while you sit pretty and take what they decide to give you. at least until their arguing gets to be too annoying, and you’re forced to step in and put them in check.
“why don’t we ask her?” könig’s suggestion makes you tune back into their conversation.
simon hums in agreement like he just remembered you could talk. “who would you like first, darling?”
“mmm.“ you search your muddled brain for a coherent response under the overwhelming pressure from their undivided attention. the smell of strong liquor on their breath and heady musk radiating from their bodies clouds your senses, warming your abdomen. you glance between the two of them, vision a little fuzzy around the edges, and gasp suddenly, “why not both?”
they both raise a curious brow at each other. “bit late to prep you for anal, baby. gotta give us a notice.” an endeared laugh pushes its way out of simon’s throat.
“no… both of you here.” you giggle, moving his large hand from your hip to cup your mound through your panties.
könig curses in german under his breath, dizzy with how much of his blood rushes south as he adjusts his pants.
“standby, soldier.” simon shoots a warning glance at him like talking down a tiger ready to pounce. he looks down at where your hands connect just under your womb. “this little cunt can barely fit me, what makes you think she can take both of us at the same time?”
the gravity of your request doesn’t quite register for you as you shrug a shoulder, smiling. “‘m a big girl, si. you won’t break me.”
“sounds like a challenge, maus.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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make me late
in which spencer finds a few minutes to spare with fem!reader in the morning
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering (here we go again), 'slutty' is used to describe an action but not by spencer, spencer slaps r's ass one (1) time, (hot), mild overstimulation a/n: apparently need to post at least one fingering fic per week or i'll fucking die. very short and sweet but as always let me know if you like it, i have a crush on all of you!
You’re used to Spencer’s alarm going off early in the morning—typically you tune it out or sleep right through it. Today, however, it rouses you more than usual. You roll over, blinking your eyes open. 
“Sorry,” Spencer mutters, finally turning it off and leaning over to kiss your head. “Go back to sleep, angel.”
You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him down again when he tries to get out of bed.
“Don’t go,” you beg into his shirt, slinging a leg over him. His hand slips under your (also his) shirt, rubbing the bare skin of your back.
“I have to. You know that.” 
“I just want you to stay for a little bit,” you insist. 
“No you don’t,” he drawls, voice still gravelly with sleep, “You want to make me late.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say innocently, burying your face further into his shirt as if you could extinguish the heat in your cheeks. 
His hand drops from your back to reach under your thigh, pushing your underwear to the side. You gasp when his fingers make contact with your soaked core, involuntarily pressing your hips closer. 
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Stop it! That’s not fair!” You squeal, attempting to wriggle away once you regain your senses. But the bastard wraps his arm around your waist like a vice, forcing you to stay in place as he sinks a finger into you with no preamble. Instead of satisfying him with a vocal response, you keep your face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and remain obstinately silent. When he begins to slowly pump his finger, you’re forced to bite the fabric of his shirt to shut yourself up. 
“If you’re not enjoying yourself, I’ll stop,” he says plainly, but obviously he knows that’s the last thing you want. His ring finger joins the other and your mouth falls open, a tiny, choked breath against his skin. “Do you want me to stop?”
Don’t give in, you say to yourself. Wait. What are you not giving in to? Fuck, that feels good. You hum quietly—an excellent display of self-control considering the noises you’re actively holding back. 
“Are we already getting whiny?”
“‘m not whining,” you bite. 
“You’re always whining.” There’s nothing to do but prove him right when he begins massaging that spot inside you with a practiced stroke of his fingers—the one that makes you arch your back further and spread your legs a little wider—makes you oh-so compliant and all together, a bit slutty. But Spencer has told you that by definition, you’re not a slut if it’s just him who you lose all self-respect around. “My pretty girl feels so good, huh?”
You agree with a mindless mumble, forgetting that you were ever going to try and fight the pleasure. 
“It feels so good.”
“I can tell, baby. Listen to the mess you're making.”
Soft, wet sounds emanate from where you’re probably dripping around his fingers. A moan is muffled by his shoulder as your own fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and sink into the flesh of his waist—though you doubt he minds. 
“Please don’t stop, please please please—" It’s quiet, almost demure as you plead. 
“You’re so sweet when you get like this,” Spencer coos. “I wish you were always so well-behaved.”
No, he doesn’t. Both of you know he loves fucking the attitude out of you, and at times, back into you. But you’re not in any place to correct him right now, as his fingers slip in and out of you so quickly, exactly where you want to be touched. 
“Oh, right—right there, that’s—oh, god,” you squeak. 
Your face is still nuzzled in his shirt, your voice is still so delicate and weak with sleep, rising in pitch with your pleasure until it breaks. 
“Right here? This is where you need it?”
“Yes,” you practically cry, “I’m gonna come, Spence—” your hips rock back and forth to meet each stroke of his fingers inside you, vision going white with with pleasure. 
“Yeah? My pretty girl is gonna come all over my fingers?”
“Mhm!” You speed up the motion of your hips. He chuckles, which might offend you if you were in your right mind, but it’s early, and you’re tired, and your soul is trying to untether itself from your body. 
“Let me feel it, baby. I wanna feel you coming, can you do that for me?”
A breathy keen rushes from your throat as your orgasm begins to suck you out to sea like a riptide, flooding your lungs and blood and everything with so much easy pleasure you’re barely awake and you don’t care one bit. 
“Uh-huh, good girl,” Spencer murmurs, not letting up with his fingers as you fall through your orgasm. Another choked moan takes you by surprise when his free hand falls with a heavy clap to your ass, before rubbing the stinging flesh. “Let go a little bit longer, baby, I’m right here.”
You’re barely breathing, still seeing stars as he continues to fuck you leisurely with his fingers, more out of pure affection than anything else. Eventually he slips them out, teasing gently over your clit as your stomach tenses. But you let him keep going. You’ll do anything to keep him in bed for a few minutes longer. To that end, you gather enough breath to speak. 
“Can you please fuck me?” 
He hums pityingly, moving his hand from between your legs to lovingly soothe the tender skin he’d slapped just a moment ago. 
“You know I can’t, baby. I shouldn’t have even done this. I really have to get a move on.”
“But you did do this,” you say, eager to point out the fallacies in his argument, “which means you could also have sex with me and we could be really fast and you could just take less time getting ready for work.”
Your chin is now resting on his shoulder as you look up at him with wide, imploring eyes, and he leans down to kiss your nose. 
“The answer is going to stay no, sweet thing. I don’t care how much you beg.”
He’s already gently sliding you off of him and getting out of bed as you pout. A few moments pass, and you can’t think of a good retort as he moves about the room, gathering a towel for his shower and digging through the dresser. 
“You’re mean.”
“Aw, poor baby. You only got to come once. Nobody has ever had a harder life than you.” Spencer dodges the pillow you throw and laughs, coming back to lean over the bed as you glower at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If you can’t fall back asleep in the time it takes me to shower, I’ll make you fancy coffee.”
“Fine.”
“And I’ll be extra nice to you when I get home.” He kisses your head and then your lips, and then disappears into the bathroom. 
In a completely predictable turn of events, you’re dead to the world by the time he gets out of the shower. He makes you the fancy coffee anyway, leaving it in a thermos on your nightstand. 
He’s late to work. He can't pretend to be sorry.
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