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sttoru · 6 months

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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’

☀︎｜tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.

“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.

you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.

“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.

his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.

toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”

he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.

“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.

you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”

your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.

toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.

“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”

toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.

despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.

“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.

soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.

“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.

you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”

one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.

you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.

it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.

toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.

you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.

“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.

you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.

there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.

you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.

“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.

toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.

“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”

you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.

toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.

“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.

“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.

if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #toji fluff #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n #female reader

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moondirti · 26 days

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ghoap x nanny! reader / 18+ / previous ft. surveillance. handjobs. voyeurism. mild s/m. dirty talk.

They check up on you when they can.

Price wasn't exaggerating when he doled out the mission details. It's a tough one. Grueling. The type that necessitates four flights a week and days of little to no sleep, the men fuelled on nothing but a snow-balling urgency to get it done. The target is a slippery fuck, with connections that transport him across the globe at the first sign of conflict. They come close to apprehending him only once, and nothing comes of it but the exacerbated threat of nuclear war as the bastard starts to squeak like a cornered mouse. Gaz has a near constant migraine. Soap stops being fun around the two week mark, exhaustion slowing his tongue. Ghost grows more unhinged with his kills, punching blades through the throats of anyone who dares get in their way.

But still, they check on you.

Isla occupies a quarter of their headspace at all times; half when they don't have to dedicate their focus to the operation. It's the longest they've ever spent away from their girl, the withdrawals hitting them like a bag of bricks. They do whatever's necessary, then, to tune into the nanny cams they have set up around the house, lest Johnny cries about the way her hands dimple when she uncurls a fist again. Or worse – before Simon forgets what tethers him to humanity.

They find the two of you are always doing something.

Which isn't a surprise. You had mentioned your background in early childhood education; they just thought that it'd been a device to impress them. But it's clear that you're eager to put your degree to use when they see you setting up yet another enrichment activity for their daughter and encouraging her to engage.

The first time, they had just arrived on base. It'd been five hours since they've seen you last and already, Johnny had pulled his phone to log onto the monitoring app he had installed.

Sure enough, you were in the same overalls they saw you in last, Isla changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas after her bath. You had her set on her play mat, but replaced the dangling toys for newer, more colourful ones. As she reached for them, you would sound out the shade in a high-pitched voice and grin excitedly when she'd babble back, as if aaaah! meant green.

He felt his heart tug something fierce, caught between endearment and unease at missing out, before getting dressed for debrief.

The third time, you let them know you could tell when the nanny cam is in active use. Not accusatorially, of course – it unfolded in a way too innocent to be anything but a whammy on their part.

They were in a humvee on exfil after being ambushed by the local army – soldiers with blood money lining their pockets, tasked with dispatching the bloodhounds that keep sniffing their patron's trail. Simon had watched a little boy get caught in the crossfire and decided it was imperative to check if Isla was okay, despite her being hundreds of miles away and off anyone's radar.

You're the first thing he saw, carrying the weight of a huge plastic storage container filled with water. In it, there were several rubber animals that inspired a fit of squeals somewhere off screen. You had laughed, a little out of breath, and he remembers the relief that flooded his chest at the dual sounds. Like the cold lick of waves across scorching sand.

As you'd passed by the camera, you stopped and crouched so your face would be in view.

"Isla likes splashing around in the water. I'm thinking of getting her a paddling pool." And you lifted the container as if you would ever need to justify the way you take of their daughter. "Hope you guys are well."

Johnny murmured from beside him. "Forgot aboot th' status light."

The seventh– ninth– maybe twelfth time (having lost count), it was just in time to catch you on your way out with Isla in tow.

They'd tuckered down in a shitty motel, awaiting the next word from Laswell, all four of them in one room. Gaz had been given the bed as consolation for the torn tendon in his knee, and Price had claimed the couch with nothing more than a growl about his back needing it. Thus, Ghost and Soap found themselves on the floor, the latter man tucked under his partner's arm, the other occupied with checking in on the porch feed. The time difference made it so that it was midday where you were.

You were dressed – and Simon recalls it as clearly as the day you met – in a green wrap skirt and tulip hat, their darling girl in a shade of pink that complimented its petals, sat on your hip as you struggled with her buggy. They forgot to give you the run down on unfolding it before they left, too overwhelmed with everything else to pay mind to the little things.

Johnny had jumped for the two-way talk function immediately, tapping on the little mic before clearing his throat.

"There's a latch under th' left arm. Flip it 'n' it shuid unfold automatically."

You jumped, pausing to face the porch cam with wide eyes. "Oh– Oh my god. Haha," Following his directions, you were able to get it open with little fuss. "that is so embarrassing. Pretend you never saw that."

Simon had his balaclava on, uncomfortable with going bare-faced in an unfamiliar room, but Johnny still felt the soft smile splitting his cheeks. Its warmth was unmistakable.

"Nonsense, lass. 'twas cute."

You bloomed at that, wiggling a little in place. Though the flustered moment hadn't lasted long, for Isla's mouth fell open at the recognition of her father's voice, chubby hand reaching out in its direction.

"Bldha! Pffffpp."

"That's right, baby! That's Da." You waddled closer to have her inspect the strange contraption hooked above their mailbox, turning your attention back to them. "We're going on a narration walk! Isla's gotten so good at recognising animals because of them. But it was so nice to hear from you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Gah!"

Simon locked the phone when neither of them could muster a response, emotion rushing their throats like white-river rapids. Hot tears seep into his side, a pair of misty eyes buried in his ribs.

"I know. I know, Johnny. S'alright. We'll see 'er again soon."

Now, he's made good on his promise.

All three rogue missiles located and dismantled in record time, meaning their slimy target could no longer use them as a shield. He'd been in shackles within the next day, wrangled somewhere in Istanbul and shipped off to a maximum security prison in The Hague. The task force left no loose thread untugged, which took an extra day but will be worth it in the long run. Price promises to reward them with a round, on him.

They're on their way back to base when Johnny tunes in a final time.

He's sure that Isla is asleep by now, confirmed by the baby monitor that focuses on the sprawled form in her cot. It would be best to exit the app and doze off like the other men – lord knows he needs it – but he can't help the itch to look for you too. To click through every channel, his curiosity unquenched, until–

Ah. There.

On the couch, bare legs stretched out along its length. A throw blanket tangled between them, one bent at the knee to support the book you're currently fingering through. The sight alone is enough to make him salivate.

But then he notices the thin material of your top.

Practically translucent. No doubt made for bed. You aren't wearing a bra, either, and the darker shade of your nipples practically flaunts itself through the fabric. They're too soft to protrude and cast a shadow on your breasts, but he's still able to get a good impression of what you would look like nude. Some part of him wilts with guilt at the shameless voyeurism he's subjecting you to.

Another part sends blood to the weight between his legs.

"Bleedin' Christ."

"Hm?" Simon grunts, disturbed by the restless pace of Johnny's heart. His head lifts off his shoulder, blinking warily to clear the silky gossamer of sleep threading his eyelids, before focusing on the grainy footage on his partner's screen.

"Ghost." He whines, hips bucking in desperation when the larger man does nothing. They haven't had the chance to relieve themselves since that night at the motel, and even then it had been a messy frotting as they tried not to disturb their sleeping comrades.

"A'right. Off to the bathroom with you, then."

He doesn't turn off of the live feed even as they cram into the compact space. Though he should. He needs to. Not because you're aware of their surveillance – you're far too engrossed in your book to pay mind to the blinking red light on the nanny cam. But because only depraved men gets off to unsuspecting hens, especially the ones they hired in good faith to take care of their child while they're away.

It's a dirty, dirty thrill that roars through him as Simon wraps an arm around his waist, palming his hard-on through his trousers. And it's a dirty thrill he wants no part of.

"Practically leakin' in your pants, boy. First time you see a pair of tits?" In the small mirror before him, he watches his pants get pulled down past his ass, underwear stained a deeper swatch of blue where his tip spits prespend.

It might as well be the first time, way he's humping Simon's hand like an over-eager mutt. Though he can't manage to choke it out through the rough groans pressing his vocal chords. Instead, what escapes him is a pathetic mess of trembling letters. "S'not... fookin, not– not–"

"Shhh, it's okay. She's jus' so pretty, yeah? Can't help but chub up and beg me to rub your aching cock, wishing it was her darlin' hand wrapped 'round you instead. I know."

"Nn, nae, Sim- Si– I wouid never... Ah!"

It's dry. A little raw. He makes no effort to lube his calloused palm to help it glide easier along Johnny's length, but he knows his boy better than he knows himself sometimes. That he needs pain when he's doing something bad like this, or else he'll lose himself to the guilt. A little bit of penance for the Catholic.

"Don' lie to me. Y'can't. But tha's alright," He pulls the foreskin off the head of his uncut mass, kneading a bit into his frenulum to watch the way white oozes against red. "I think about it too."

"A-Aye?"

"Hm. Think 'bout ya swallowing my cock while I sit 'er on my face. Bet she tastes sweet, like nectar. Jus' look at the thing." Which he does. You're seated a bit differently than you had been before. Less liberal. Wound up tight, with your nose buried in your book and your toes curled beneath your feet. Surely captured by some tense plot line or the other. "Would make you clean her cunt after I pump 'er full. Or vice versa, if she's into tha'."

"Yer a-aff yer heid... Fuck, I cannae–"

"That's it, Johnny. Let go, boy." Simon's strokes keep at the top, tugging in short, rough movements over the phone. The blanket now covers you fully, but it's no matter. The image of your breasts are now seared into both their minds, an array of fantasies unfurling before them, each nastier than the last. "Jus' like that."

Thick ropes of cum streak over the screen and sink countertop. It's weeks worth of pent up frustration, a culmination of despair and desire as a stuttered moan claws up Johnny's throat. The hand leaves his cock only when he starts shooting blanks, clenching tight at the overstimulation.

Simon makes him lick the mess off his palm.

(And unbeknownst to them, they'd hit the mic on their way to the bathroom.

You'd heard the whole thing.)

#oops!#my finger slipped #ghoap x reader #ghoap #simon ghost riley x reader x johnny soap mactavish #fic ༄ miss magic #call of duty #ghost x soap #simon riley x reader x john mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x john mactavish #simon ghost riley x johnny soap mactavish #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #x female reader

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 month

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Simon Riley lets out a high-pitched squeal when you shower with him first time because the water is too goddamn hot. (but it’s the best temperature for you).

LOL YES YES YES THIS IS SO TRUE!! Idk why but I also have a hc that he prolly jumped a bit to avoid the hot splash because in his military life he's used to shower in cold ass water, and rarely has time to adjust the temperature since he showered in rush (3 minutes shower). His skin might be a little pink or red after warm (hot) shower. Please just give this man lukewarm bath with rubber duck, shark and starfish, a gentle scalp massage would be a help too and trust me 100% he's addicted to it

yes he deserves a nice bath 😈 ty for the ideas!! this is just some little scenes I think will happen :D!

Simon*Reader, silly couple

btw anon’s talking about this post

Shower with Simon Riley

You finally convince Simon to shower with you the first time (not that he doesn’t want it, he’s just not familiar with these intimate couple things, give that man some time to build his courage).

You throw your clothes aside without any bit of shyness, and step behind the shower curtain, turning on the water and waiting for Simon to come in.

You can’t help but salivate at the man’s figure, and he seems to notice your gaze, his ego must thrive to sky-high in mere seconds.

Until you rinse the water on his chest.

“eee!”

“???” You almost doubt it’s a seagull showering with you when you hear the high-pitched squeak coming from your lover whose voice is always low and gravel.

“...” Oh, and he’s avoiding meeting your eyes now.

“Did you just squeal Simon?”

“No.”

“But I heard—“

“No.”

“You want this bath bomb or this or that?”

“They’re all fucking same.”

“No, this is vanilla, this is lavender, this is rose and this is...”

“Bloody hell... just choose one for me.”

“Alright then.” You toss the vanilla one into the lukewarm water.

10 minutes after Simon falls asleep in the bathtub with the rubber duck in his hand when you softly scratch his scalp.

...

A few days later, you open the drawer outside the bathroom and get drowned by tons of vanilla bath bombs.

“I thought someone said all of them are the same...” You smirk at Simon, while he just stares at you and can’t find a convincing reason to defend himself.

You discover Simon’s skin turns into light pink after showering with you a few times.

“You’re like a strawberry” You two are cuddling on the bed after a soothing shower together. “Your skin always becomes pink after you shower with me.”

“I’m not a fucking strawberry.”

“How about peach?”

“That’s the same.”

“but it’s cute, seeing your cheeks turn red.”

You poke his face cheekily, but he just shoves your blahaj on his face to cover it.

“What, Simon?” You snicker as you scoot closer “Shy for being said cute?”

“...” He doesn’t answer, just covers his face with your plushie more secure.

“How can I kiss you when you cover your face, handsome?”

“...” Simon still maintains silence, but you’re damn sure he’s hesitating.

“You don’t want my kiss?” You fake a disappointed tone, and eventually, he moves the blahaj out of his face.

Your smile deepens when you still spot the pink smearing across his cheeks.

“That’s my man.” You peck his lips “Thanks, cutie”

You really should stop teasing him. You tell yourself when he smashes the blahaj on his face again once he hears you call him cutie.

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 5 months

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𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | angus tully x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | visiting home for the holidays, Angus runs into his old babysitter... or perhaps more importantly, his first real crush. the older, unattainable girl next door; the one that made him realize maybe cooties aren't all that bad. now he's older, too, and maybe you aren't quite as unattainable-- so long as he can play it cool and not make a complete idiot out of himself...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public/car sex, drug use (watch out for the devil's lettuce y'all!!) as well as brief cigarette use, inexperienced/virgin angus, no spoilers for the holdovers (2023) nor any significant relationship to the plot of it lol

technically this is a christmas fic so if you noticed that I'm posting it in january, no you didn't and mind your business <3

The sky was pitch black, and the world was dark— even with all those Christmas lights, their colorful glow seemed to be absorbed so quickly in the gloom of the evening.

The white snow served as a nice contrast, but it did look sort of grey in all the shadows, even as it was freshly falling to cover the ground. The snowflakes fell fast, they looked almost heavy: not that cute, fluffy snow that looks all whimsical and floats on the wind.

It was the sort of weather that should’ve made him appreciate being safe and warm inside, but as he pressed his nose to the cold glass, he wished rather ungratefully for escape.

The doorbell stirred him out of the moment, and Angus looked back over his shoulder towards the foyer. “Honey! Can you get that?” his mother called out to him from the kitchen. She made herself seem so busy when he knew she hadn’t really cooked at all— she was just arranging everything she’d bought on fancy plates to look homemade. The crinkle of tinfoil gave away that she was too busy disposing of the evidence to greet her guests herself. She was lucky all the ones who had already arrived were too busy drinking in the living room to notice.

Rolling his eyes a bit, he propelled himself off of his lean on the wall, stuffing one hand in his khaki pocket and the other opening the front door.

Your parents were always really… energetic. They greeted Angus with massive smiles and ecstatic faces, as if they could hardly believe he was letting them in to his own house. To be fair, he wasn’t here most of the year, but it wasn’t like he was a celebrity or anything…

“Angus!” your mom squealed joyfully.

“Hey, buddy!” your dad greeted, forcing Angus to fight back a cringe.

“Nice to see you,” he offered them, “come on in, the food’s almost ready.”

Your mom was preoccupied with the casserole dish she was holding, but your dad’s hands were free so he of course had to give Angus a playful punch to the shoulder as he stepped inside. “Wo-hoah! You been workin’ out?” your dad joked— as if Angus’ noodly arm in a red cashmere sweater was ever going to fool anyone into thinking he lifted weights…

As he turned to shut the door, he realized you were standing there, taking one last puff of a cigarette before dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out with your shoe.

He hadn’t known you were coming over— if he had, he would’ve… done something. Fixed his hair or not worn something so dorky, maybe?

“H-hey,” he greeted you, feeling pierced by even just your passing glance up at him.

“Hey, kid,” you nodded, making him frown as you walked in past him.

Your parents and his mom were already chatting up a storm, that sort of high-pitched suburban babble he’d learned to tune out easily. In fact, it really just muffled into a distant whirr as he watched you slip off your coat, revealing your outfit beneath. He always remembered you wearing jeans when you came over to babysit— and dresses at church. So the skirt and blazer sort of caught him off-guard. It made you seem even older— in a good way, like you were a businesswoman or something— and the seam of your stockings running down the back of your legs… his head tilted as his eyes followed it

“Well shut the door, Angus, you’re letting the cold air in!” his mother scolded gently, knocking him out of the thought.

“O-oh, sorry,” he mumbled, shutting it as you looked back at him over your shoulder and smiled a bit. He felt like such a loser when you looked at him like that…

“Let me make you two some drinks! What are you having?”

He wasn’t listening again, of course; he was staring at you again, wondering if you hadn’t changed at all— you were exactly how he remembered you, even though it was probably impossible that you looked the same as his 17-year-old babysitter as you did now. He hoped that he looked totally different to you, that you were thinking to yourself right now how much more mature he looked. He hoped that you could barely believe he was the same boy you watched when he was younger— or, better yet, that you’d just totally forgotten about all that.

“Would you help set the table, please, honey?” his mother requested as she zipped back into the kitchen. He nodded and hesitated before quickly brushing past you to get the silverware out of the cabinet by the table, placing a setting in front of each chair. She reappeared behind him, but he didn’t look up— not at her or you, even though you were the one she was talking to. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot to ask— did you want a glass of wine or something?”

“No, I’m alright— thanks, ma’am,” you replied. “I’ll help with the silverware.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” she cooed at you before departing again, and Angus felt his hands get a little clammier around the handful of utensils as you reached out for them.

“Give me some,” you instructed him, and he only briefly glanced at your face; he tried to hand you the forks without touching your fingers, but all that accomplished was dropping some of them loudly onto the table while still brushing up against your soft hand. You snorted, picking them up and starting to set them around the placemats as well.

He tried to ignore you, both of you working around the table, but he sighed as he took a closer look at your work. “No the— that’s a salad fork,” he corrected, “that should go inside.”

“What?”

“The smaller fork goes on the other side, closest to the plate,” he explained, switching the utensils you’d just placed. “Dessert spoon goes at the top, butter knife on the left—”

You scoffed a bit. “And where should I put the opium spoon?”

“Listen, I know it’s stupid,” he assured as he looked at your face again— you were so close, standing right beside him, and his heart was racing. “But my stepdad will blow a gasket if it’s wrong,” he added in a lower voice.

“He sounds like a tool,” you mumbled back, and the two of you smiled a bit, in that way people smile when they share a secret. Not that his stepdad being a tool was all that exclusive of a secret…

“Alright!” his mom emerged again, carrying some ceramic dish with oven mitts, and you both straightened up. “Food’s coming out! Oh, are the Shaws not here yet?”

Your dad was carrying the platter of ham, and your mom behind him with another side. “I, uh, guess not,” Angus answered her question.

“Well, we’ll have to start eating without them,” she sighed, wiping her forehead with the back of her head as the dishes were set down— like she was so exhausted. She probably was, but not from cooking or physical labor: just from the constant anxiety she’d been exuding for the last three days because of this stupid dinner party. She acted like the President or the Pope were coming, and not just a bunch of boring old people.

And you. She’d never mentioned you.

As she gathered the guests for dinner, Angus looked at you, and realized he should say something— be polite, at least. He was terrified to open his mouth and embarrass himself, but if he didn’t try, he’d seem like even more of a loser.

Quickly rubbing his palms against his trousers, he broke the silence. “So, um, how’ve you been?” he asked, and you looked back at him, seeming a little surprised that he talked to you at all.

“Oh,” you responded, “good, I’ve been good— just kinda busy. What have you been doing?”

“You know, just… whatever,” he shrugged, not wanting to admit he was still in high school.

“Aren’t you still in high school?” you questioned with a furrowed brow.

Shit. That illusion didn’t last long. “Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, “but I’m eighteen!”

You gave him a little pitying smile that made him realize too late how pathetic his statement was. Bragging about being eighteen wasn’t doing him any favors in terms of coming off as mature to you— why did he think that would work?

“U-uh, you… you’re in college, right?”

“Well— I was, until about a week ago,” you answered. “I graduated a semester early.”

“Oh, congrats,” he offered with a nod, “that’s great. You’ve always been really smart…”

“Well, it didn’t take a genius to help you with your seventh grade math homework,” you deflected his compliment with a tilted smirk, and he laughed nervously.

“I, um, can’t believe you remember that,” he mumbled.

“Of course,” you said, and just as he started to wonder what that meant, his stepdad spoke up over the dull roar of conversation.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats around the table,” he encouraged, “and we’ll all pray before we enjoy this lovely meal.”

Aside from the late arrival of the Shaws, dinner went off without a hitch— Angus fielded the same four questions on repeat, glanced at you every thirty seconds, and only got caught about a dozen times.

The only thing more boring than the dinner was the time afterwards, the indefinite mingling phase. He usually just counted the minutes until he could get excused to his room, where he could read or sketch or really do anything quiet. But now that you were here, he wasn’t as sure what to do: he wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to seem too excited to talk to you, but he didn’t want to seem like an asshole or anything…

So he pretty much just sat on a couch, as far away from the bustle of the party as he could reasonably get away with, trying to look busy while not actually doing anything. Occasionally looking at you, but usually trying not to— until he realized you were coming towards him. Now was it okay to look at you?

He tried to act like he didn’t even notice you coming closer until you sat next to him on the couch; you were a little close, sitting on your side and putting one of your arms up on the back of the sofa cushions like you were trapping him in. He put his legs together so they wouldn’t bump into your knees which were dangerously close to him now.

“You look bored,” you noticed.

“Yeah? I wonder why,” he replied with a small smirk.

“You didn’t really tell me how you’ve been,” you remembered. “What’s boarding school like?”

“Uh, you know, pretty much your average hellhole,” he joked— not that it wasn’t at least mostly true. “Not that living at home would be all that much better.”

“You Barton boys get into any trouble up there?” you asked, and he shrugged a bit.

“Some,” he said. “If you’re not an idiot, you can mostly avoid getting caught for anything.”

“Like what?” you pressed. “Do kids ever get busted with pot?”

“Oh, all the time,” he laughed. “It’s really not hard to get away with it, honestly. I mean, I never got caught, so…”

You raised an eyebrow. “You smoke?”

He loved the way you said it, not quite under your breath but a secretive mumble. He just shrugged again, and you laughed a little. “What?” he wondered.

“You just don’t seem the type,” you explained.

“You don’t know me that well,” he countered, lowering his voice, hoping you would pick up on the undertone. But if you did, you didn’t quite respond to it.

“Well, are you the type to sneak out of this boring dinner and go smoke?” you wondered. He thought you looked really sexy asking him a question like that, eyes lighting up as you suggested something that risky.

He grinned excitedly. “Right now?”

“You’re not scared to get caught, are you?” you challenged.

“Fuck no,” he laughed, “let’s do it.”

“Where are we gonna go?” he wondered aloud, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“My car,” you explained, having to talk a little louder to be heard over the wind. “I’m parked down the street— by the park, so nobody’s gonna notice us.”

You trudged through the snow together, each step a deep crunch into the frozen snow, and you squinted your eyes when a sharp, icy wind struck right in your face.

You picked up the pace a bit when you saw your car, excited to escape the freezing cold; and as you turned the key in the driver’s door, unlocking the rest, Angus came up beside you.

“Get in on the other side,” you told him, and he walked around the back as you got in yourself.

When you first got in the car, you could still see your breath in the air— but it was still a nice reprieve from the wind outside, and you unzipped your coat and tossed it into the passenger seat in front of you. Angus hopped in a moment later, and when he shut his door, you were both submerged suddenly into the quietest place you’d been all night. No wind, no dinner guests, no records playing— just each other’s breathing.

You considered turning the heat on, but you figured the chill would pass soon enough with Angus’ and your own body heat filling the space.

You clicked on the ceiling light, a dim yellow glow illuminating the inside of the car and really bringing out the dinginess of the grey-beige carpet and fabric all over everything. He simply sat on the seat, waiting patiently with his legs spread a bit and his hands on his knees, blowing out a breath through his cheeks which swelled with air; he watched you lean back and open the front console, bending somewhat awkwardly over it to reach in and rifle around.

“There we go,” you mumbled as your hand found the fabric bag underneath loose bills and receipts; you pulled it out and opened the drawstring, revealing with a proud smile the baggy inside. “Ta-da!” you announced softly, brandishing the crushed leaf and rolling papers. “Wanna show me your joint-rolling skills?”

You held the bag towards him in offering, but he shook his head and seemed to shrink away slightly. “N-no, I’ll let you do the honors,” he decided in a soft voice.

You rubbed your hands together to try to warm them up first, because the detailed task was trickier with cold fingers, but you managed alright in the end. His eyes were glued to the way your tongue slid along the paper before sealing it; it did intrigue you just a bit, wondering what he was imagining while you did that.

“Were you always a bad girl, and I just didn’t know it?” he asked. “Or did college make you more rebellious?”

“A bad girl, huh?” you snorted, and his face flushed a bit.

“That didn’t sound weird in my head,” he promised.

“Save it for when you can blame it on the flower, dude,” you laughed as you handed him the blunt and got your lighter ready. “You can have the first hit, I’ll light it up for you.”

He put it between his lips as you struck the BIC, and he leaned forward until the end was in the flames.

You watched him breathe it in, that singe-y, crispy sound of the weed burning with each inhale making you smile a bit in anticipation… though you had to admit, it wasn’t just your excitement to get high that had your heart beating faster.

He only managed to hold it in for a second before coughing roughly, clearly trying to suppress it at first before bringing his fist to his mouth and really hacking a few times. You smacked him on the back with a grin, and he nodded at you; poor thing, his eyes were all red, actually his whole face was red, but he eventually recovered.

“You don��t really smoke, do you?” you noticed with a tilted smile.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “N-not really, no,” he admitted. “I mean, I’ve tried it before, I swear—”

“It’s fine,” you assured, “I just don’t want you losing a lung.”

“Let me try again,” he pleaded, reaching for the blunt, but you held it away from him and laughed.

“I’ve got a better idea, this might make it easier,” you offered, leaning in closer. He seemed to tense up a bit, like he wasn't sure what you were leaning in for, but he watched you with half-lidded eyes as you took a long drag.

You grabbed his jaw— not hard, but enough to make him open his mouth a bit— and exhaled the smoke into his face. He got the idea and breathed in deeply, staring right into your eyes.

“Better?” you asked.

“U-um, yeah,” he whispered, “I didn't cough that time…”

“Then we’ll just do it this way,” you decided, biting your lip a little when he shifted in the seat. You were having way too much fun with him, and you knew it was unfair, but how often do you get to tease somebody like this?

After a few more hits that way, you saw his eyes get a little glassier. You yourself were starting to feel it, and you smiled at him as you brought your mouth a bit closer to his for the next shared breath.

“How does it feel?” you asked him softly as you leaned back again— he chased you for a minute, like he wanted to stay close, but relaxed quickly.

“U-uh, kinda… floaty…” he mumbled. “Don’t you think my parents are gonna notice the smell when we go back in?”

“I’ve got perfume for that,” you explained.

“So I’m gonna smell, like… fruity?” he frowned, and you giggled.

“That’s what you think my perfume smells like?” you wondered.

“Yeah, not— not that I was, you know… sniffing you…” he trailed off, face getting pink again, and you laughed.

“I think you need another hit,” you decided, and he nodded in agreement. Inhaling deeply, you pulled him closer and breathed into his open mouth, looking back into his eyes through the thin veil of excess smoke.

After that, you leaned back against the door, basking for a moment in your own high. You watched the snow falling outside the window, letting your vision get a little blurry; the quietness of the moment didn’t seem awkward to you at all, it seemed peaceful, but apparently Angus was the more anxious type of smoker and felt the need to break the silence. “I always had the biggest crush on you,” he blurted out, and you sighed a bit, lips pressing into a pitying smile even though you didn’t look back at him. “I was kinda surprised you didn’t notice…”

“I did,” you mumbled.

“R-really?” he choked. “I, uh… I thought you just saw me as some little twerp.”

“I did,” you said again, smiling wider, and he laughed nervously.

“Oh,” he nodded as he looked away, “that’s… fair.”

He only let the silence linger for a second before interrupting it again.

“But I’ve grown up a lot, you know,” he reminded you. “I’m eighteen.”

“You mentioned that.”

“Right. Um,” he stalled, “but it’s not just that. I mean, I like to think I’m pretty… mature. At least, I am compared to the idiots at my school— but I probably still seem like a little kid to you. I can’t really compete with college guys…”

“Compete?” you repeated, tilting your head. “What are you competing for?”

“O-oh, I just meant like, um—” he stammered, and you scooted closer to him on the seat with a devious smile.

“What are you competing with those ‘college guys’ for, Angus?” you pressed again. “My attention?”

“Some… something like that, yeah,” he answered, speaking a little softer.

“Well, there’s not much competition here, is there?” you noticed, looking around the car. “It’s just you and me… we’re alone.”

He started to open his mouth to speak, but you reached up to drag one finger over his chest for a moment, and he only choked out a little gasp. “Yeah, I… guess that’s true,” he mumbled, going back and forth from watching your finger draw circles on his sweater to watching your face.

You wordlessly brought the joint to your lips again, seeing that it was about halfway gone already. You took a long, deep breath in, exhaling towards him without really pursing your lips, letting him come closer for his share this time. Except, finally, this time he didn’t stop. He just kept leaning in towards you until his lips brushed over yours and you shut your eyes.

His kiss was patient, almost too gentle, like he was holding back. You set the joint aside quickly in the ashtray and brought your hands up to his face, so you could kiss him a little harder and maybe encourage him somehow. It seemed to work; he got a little more ambitious, moving his lips against yours, sighing gently as you combed your fingers through his wild curls.

You heard the wind howl outside, whistling around the car, not that you really paid much attention to it. Instead, your attention was drawn to the way his hands were still sat in his lap; you smirked a little. What a polite boy.

“You can touch me, you know,” you whispered to him, never breaking away from his lips. One of your hands wrapped gingerly around one of his wrists, guiding it to your waist.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled back, grabbing onto you with a touch more confidence. He even pulled you a little closer as you kissed him harder, your hands traveling up to his shoulders in return.

Other than needing some guidance on the auxiliary stuff, Angus was a good kisser. You were actually a little surprised when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise: it seemed like a good sign he wasn’t holding back anymore.

One of your legs hiked up over his, just something instinctive to keep him close, and his hand trailed down over your hip to caress that leg; it was a shame you needed tights for the weather, because you would’ve loved to feel his touch right on your skin. “These are cute,” he informed you in a mumble against your lips, quickly pinching and popping the elastic-y fabric back against your leg. You broke away to look down at his hand on your thigh, which he did as well.

“Really?” you asked sweetly, not sure you were pulling off the innocent vibe of the question.

“Yeah,” he nodded, meeting your gaze again, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

You hummed and he kissed you again— and this time, as his hand slid back up to your waist, it took a route along the curve of your ass. You wouldn’t have minded at all if he got a nice handful of it, pulled you closer, gotten a little rougher with you… but obviously, he didn’t. It was still Angus, after all.

In fact, it took a few more minutes of kissing for him to even muster the courage to touch your chest through your sweater, but you both sighed a bit when he finally did. He groped at you a bit, but you didn’t care much for all the layers in between, so you sat up and perched yourself in his lap, breaking the kiss to shed your blazer and pull your sweater up over your bra. “O-oh,” he breathed as you did it, and you felt something tighten up inside you when he absent-mindedly bit his lip.

You sighed shakily, even though you didn’t know why you felt just a bit nervous— and you pulled your bra up, too, exposing yourself entirely to him.

He whispered your name; your pussy clenched again instantly.

He put his hands over you carefully, and you jumped slightly when those long fingers of his brushed over your skin— and he pulled back quickly in response. “Fuck, are my hands cold? I’m sorry,” he stammered nervously, but you just smiled back at him.

“It’s fine,” you promised, and he put his hands back on you with a long sigh.

“Wow,” he mumbled under his breath. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the wide-eyed, awe-filled stare that never left your tits as he carefully massaged them; he toyed with your nipples briefly before groping a bit more confidently, your hips shifting in his lap without you really meaning for them to.

Your smile fell, though, when he suddenly leaned forward and latched his mouth onto one of them. “O-oh, fuck,” you mumbled under your breath as he suckled— rather voraciously, really— and fluttered his eyes shut, his tongue running all over the skin in his mouth. You looked down at him for a minute, thinking he looked pretty cute doing that, but had to shut your eyes and lean your head back when he sucked even harder at you. “Fuck, Angus—”

“Does that feel good?” he asked quietly as he broke away; you bit your lip and nodded, and he moved to the other one as you leaned back even further, held up only by the front seats. He, of course, gladly leaned forward with you to stay close, and kept a hand on the breast no longer in his mouth.

You could’ve sworn you felt yourself get especially wet when his tongue swirled around your nipple, and through the high that clouded your brain (equally from the pot and the pleasure) you realized that you were about to fuck Angus Tully. You sort of couldn’t believe it, and yet the thought didn’t disgust or offend you as much as you thought it would. You figured you would at least feel a little more guilty, but… you didn’t. Not very much, at least. Certainly not enough to stop you.

You sat back up and moved your hips back a bit, making him stop what he was doing just to wonder what you were up to; he groaned a bit when you reached down between your own legs to try to open his belt. “O-oh, fuck,” he whispered, lifting his hips a bit as well to make it easier for you to reach. “We're really gonna—?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, finally getting his belt open and working on his button and fly next; you could feel his cock already through the fabric, and it flexed a bit against the back of your hand in anticipation.

He groaned a little when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your hand around his length.

“You're so hard,” you noticed with a little gasp, gripping him tighter as you tried to (carefully) pull his cock out of the khakis and plaid underwear.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “fuck, yeah… you're really, um— you're hot.”

You giggled a bit, glancing up at his nervous expression. “You're sweet,” you offered, but your mouth was agape when you finally got a glimpse of him. “You're… fuck, Angus, you're big…”

“Oh, uh, really?” he perked up, cock flexing against your palm.

Giving him a few lazy strokes as you nodded, you giggled when his hips started to buck up towards your touch. “Fuck, I want you,” you moaned softly, and his cock just flexed in your hand again.

“You— god, you can’t even imagine how long I’ve wanted you,” he assured, making you smile wide.

“I’m sure I can, but I’ll try not to,” you decided as you let go of him. He seemed disappointed until he realized why: reaching up under your skirt, you pulled your tights and panties down your thighs.

“What if somebody sees?” he wondered nervously.

“They’re all busy inside, nobody’s coming out here in this weather,” you assured. “I can turn the light off if you want though—”

“N-no,” he stopped you before you could keep reaching for the ceiling light. “No, I still wanna see.”

You laughed a little and kissed him again, quickly. “Me too,” you agreed as you lifted yourself up over his lap, guiding his cock’s head to your entrance.

He sighed a little as soon as it touched you, but that was nothing compared to the way he reacted when you lowered yourself and he slipped inside.

“Fuck,” you groaned deeply, loving the way he stretched you out— not painful, but just the right amount of challenge. The body high seemed to make everything a little extra tingly and soft, though you didn’t have a sober version of this experience to compare it to.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, “oh my god…”

You finally sank down completely into his lap, and he took hold of your waist with a little moan. “Fuck,” you said again, more of a whisper, your head falling back as you started to rock against him. “Oh, it’s so deep, Angus—”

He interrupted you with a sort of whine, like he couldn’t take hearing you talk like that… but that just made you want to do it more.

“So fucking good,” you praised with a sigh, feeling him press his forehead against your chest as he moaned quietly. “You feel so fucking good…”

He whimpered, grabbing on painfully-tight to your hips, until his head fell back and his Adam's apple bobbed with each noise he made.

A sharp, needy moan jumped out of his throat— and at the same time, you felt him pulse inside you. Your eyes went wide as he relaxed slightly under you. “Did you… just come?” you asked.

He was still panting, his face starting to flush red. “Um… yeah?” he replied breathlessly. “Sorry, I-I tried not to—”

“It’s okay,” you promised with a soft laugh, “are you— or, uh, were you a virgin?”

“Uh…” he stalled anxiously. “Yeah, I am— or was— sorry, I should’ve said something, but I thought you might—”

“It’s fine,” you assured, resting a hand on his chest to try to soothe him. “It’s cute, honestly. I don’t mind being your first.”

“I always wanted you to be,” he admitted. “I imagined it like this.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the car. “Like this?”

“Well, not exactly like this,” he laughed. “There was a lot more time involved, for one, and a bed. And whipped cream—”

“Okay, let’s not unpack all that right now,” you interjected, “we should get cleaned up and go back inside anyway…”

You tried to get off his lap, but he held you down by your hips (with more strength than you expected from him) and pleaded with you: “No, wait, not yet— I want you to come, too.”

“It’s okay, really, we need to go back before your parents notice you’re gone,” you insisted.

“No, they don’t care— please? Please just keep going? I’m still hard, I can—”

“Angus,” you interrupted, and he sighed a little because he knew already you weren’t going to be convinced. “You’ll get another chance to make me come, alright? We just have to get back inside now.”

He lit up instantly. “Really? So we can— we’ll do this again?”

“If you want,” you shrugged.

“Hmm, no thanks— I’ll just go back to being a horny loser,” he joked, making you snort. “Of course I wanna see you again. I can’t believe I have to do… anything else but that until then!”

“You’ll live,” you promised as you got up off of him— you both winced, but you mostly just focused on getting your panties and tights back up before anything, uh, spilled.

You pulled your bra and sweater down again, and figured out where your blazer ended up so you could slip it back on while Angus lifted his hips to be able to get himself back into the khakis.

Opening the console again, you put your paraphernalia back in and dug around for a glass bottle instead. “Hopefully this can cover up weed and sex,” you said as you spritzed yourself a couple times with the perfume, then got him once or twice for good measure.

“How am I supposed to hide this?” he asked with an annoyed groan, struggling to adjust his boner inside his trousers in a way that wasn’t obvious.

“Sorry, all I can help with is the smell,” you laughed, putting the perfume back and slipping your coat on. “You ready?”

“Yeah, guess so,” he sighed, “ready as I’ll ever be. W-wait— can I kiss you one more time first, before we go?”

You thought it was funny, and sweet, that he thought he had to ask. You nodded, and he pulled you into a kiss that was much more passionate than you expected. Not filthy or anything, but not as tired and slow as you expected after just coming. His hands held your head, and you had to really remind yourself not to get lost in it before your better judgment was overruled.

Pulling back slowly, you looked at him for a second and wondered if anyone had ever looked back at you quite like that before.

You leaned for the door handle, but just before you pulled it, a final thought popped into your mind. “Oh, I almost forgot— Merry Christmas, by the way,” you offered him with a smile.

“Yeah, no shit,” he laughed, almost sounding like he was in disbelief, “that’s about the merriest fucking Christmas I’ve ever had.”

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut #angus tully x you

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remuslovebot · 6 months

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a quick felix smut drabble because i rewatched saltburn today.

smut! minors dni my praise kink is really coming thru

☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡

felix led you into the maze, it was pitch black and you were carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and holding felix’s in the other.

“where are you taking me,” you giggled, a bit tipsy from the alcohol you’d been drinking.

“you’ll see,” felix replied, walking with you to the center of the maze.

there was a giant statue which made you uneasy. you dropped the champagne bottle on the ground, because felix’s lips were on yours in an instant. he pulled you close to him, a hand trailing from your waist to your ass cheek.

he squeezed your ass teasingly and you squealed. “felix,” you laughed, backing away from him slightly. “what love?” he smirked at you.

it was like a hunter had met their prey. he kissed you again, this time hungrily. and you kissed back, passionately.

a moan escaped your lips as he took his left hand and massaged your breast. he kissed down to your neck, definitely leaving a mark.

he moved his hand from your breast to your waist, picking you up in one swift motion and sitting you on top of the statue’s base.

“are you going to be a good girl and open your legs for me,” felix asked, moving his hands down to your thighs.

you nodded and opened your legs. his hand went around your thigh and his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.

“hmm already wet for me, darling,” felix said, as you stifled a moan.

you allowed him to take off your panties and bring them down around your ankles. still sitting on the statue, felix pulled up the bottom of your dress around your hips.

the metal was cold underneath you and he slipped a finger through your wet folds. putting pressure on your clit, he began to rub. you moaned into his neck as he watched your face fill with pleasure.

it aroused him, seeing how he made you feel. “that’s it darling,” he said softly. “no one can hear us out here so make all the noises you want,” he said.

you did so, letting lose in the pleasure felix was giving you. he removed his finger, making you look up at him with doe eyes.

“felix,” you whimpered. “I need you,” you said.

“I need you too,” he said. “need to be inside you,” he almost moaned.

with his erection fully grown, he instructed you to unbuckle his pants. removing his jeans and underwear, his member went free.

you took a hold of it, clenching around nothing. a moan escaped felix’s lips as you stroked his cock.

“ready for me?” he asked, moving closer into you. you let go of him and scooted closer.

“yes felix, need you inside me,” you said, still hot and bothered from his finger on your clit.

“that’s my good girl,” he cooed, aligning his cock to your entrance. he slipped through your folds and moaned.

“jesus fucking christ, you’re so tight,” he said, keeping still until he began to move in an out of you.

you moaned, leaning up to context your lips as he fucked you. felix held onto your waist, moving in and out of you at a medium pace.

you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. “i’m close felix—,” you moaned.

he groaned, pounding into you at a higher pace. “hold on a bit, you’re being so good for me,” he said.

“I want you to cum with me, okay lovely,” he whispered in your ear. His voice alone had almost made you combust.

“Yes, sir,” you said breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his actions. He was close too.

“On my count…1…2…3,” he groaned, smashing into as he came in your pussy. You came on command, riding out your high and clenching around his cock.

Felix kissed your neck and cheeks, as you came down from your high together. After you were both finished he pulled out of you gently and kissed your forehead.

“You were so good for me, baby. Always know how to make me feel good,” Felix said softly.

#felix catton smut #felix catton smut drabble #felix catton x reader fluff #felix catton x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton x reader smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn film #jacob elordi x reader #jacob Elordi smut #smut requests #felix catton x y/n

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astralis-ortus · 7 days

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you're always enough

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— losing you was not an option.

w.count → 2.3k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing, mention of infidelity, insecure chan :( a.n → based on this request! it honestly was a challenge for me hahahㅠ i think it's been a while since i wrote something with this quick of a vibe change in a while but i'm glad i got to try again! ⋆ see masterlist

the clock at the bottom right part of his monitor shows its lingering around the 1pm mark—a mere 2 hours since he had stepped foot inside the building—and yet, he’s already stressed.

one block and straight to another, work hasn’t been looking good for him so far. he’s so ready to call for another break—but the soft knocks to the melody of twinkle twinkle little stars on chan’s studio door could only mean one thing.

“well hello there, miss producer,” chan’s frown turned into a smile in the split second you peeked your head between the crack of the door, eyes turning into a pair of beautiful crescents you oh-so adore. you couldn’t even stop yourself from smiling—chan just looked so adorable with his messy natural curls decorating his forehead, beanie discarded somewhere on his leather couch. “come on in. i missed you.”

4 years ago, you were graced with the opportunity to participate in a song camp with the 3racha—one of, if not the, biggest producers in your company. it was a great experience—you got to learn a lot of new things, and somehow, your luck seemed to prolong as you kept in touch with the boys; occasionally called in for inputs while some other time just to hangout while grabbing a bite when the three realized the unidentified voice bleed turns out to originate from your producing room.

“oh really?” your smile easily mirrored his as you stepped inside the cold room, not forgetting to close the door behind you, “you missed me?”

taking his extended hand, the wide grin painted on your face soon met the end of its reign as your boyfriend pulls you into his lap—tiny yelp involuntarily left your lips while chan had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. you couldn’t even continue with the witty remarks on the tip of your tongue when his complimentary dozen of butterfly kisses fell across the span of your face; all replaced with the series of giggles and ‘oh my god—stop!’s as you attempted to free yourself from his trap.

you thought your little crush on the oldest of the three was going to remain as a silly little crush—but as life turns out, it has somehow been around 2 years since chan asked you to be his girlfriend, and a little over a year since you two gradually came clean to your closest friends and coworkers; though the thought only came after repeatedly being caught secretly meeting up or sneakily holding hands during your increasingly overlapping recording sessions.

“you little monster!” a high pitched squeal slipped past your upturned lips when you finally caught his rosy cheeks between your hands, keeping him still as you brought your lips onto his for a few quick pecks—which seemed to work, seeing how chan’s antics now reduced to a simple giggle as he held you close. “you really missed me that much?” you hummed, gently running your thumbs on his freckled cheeks.

“of course i do,” chan pursed his lips in protest, warm hand gently running down your side, “it’s not every day i couldn’t see my girlfriend both at home and at work. 24 hours a day alone wasn’t enough, and now it’s reduced? of course i’m bound to miss you!”

swarms of butterflies fill the hollow of your chest while you let laughter echoes through the familiar green walls, feeling both warm and ticklish from chan’s cheesy line. “gosh,” your wide set grin now completed with a tinge of rose-colored flush on your cheeks, “you’re so head over heels for me, aren’t you?”

chan’s reverberating low hum became his reply, nodding his head confidently. “of course i am,” he smiled, eyes twinkling as the pair of deep brown eyes peered right into yours. “aren’t you?”

“well,” you grinned, arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “maybe if—”

your train of thought was forced to a halt when you felt a buzz in your pocket, quickly hopping off chan’s lap after a quick glance at the name. a short apology was muttered before you finally took the call outside the studio, leaving chan feeling a little dumbfounded and… hurt.

chan knew it’s probably work—despite the promised time off since the artist you’re working with is on their vacation, as someone who works behind the scenes, you’re never actually off duty. there’s bound to be urgent matters you need to deal with, and chan understood that.

he's just… confused.

and his confusion certainly multiplies in size when he heard another voice laughing with yours, right outside of his studio.

“no! geez, didn’t i—oh!” your attention instantly shifted when you heard the studio door crack open, eyes catching your puzzled boyfriends’ as he looked at you and the figure across. “channie, this is kyungho sunbae. he’s a new addition to the team but i met him in college. kyungho sunbae, this is—”

“bang chan-ssi, of course,” kyungho cheerily greeted chan, extending a friendly hand. “i’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

“oh,” the confusion on chan’s face turned into a tight smile—which equally reflected on his grip on the stranger’s hand. even through a quick scan of his eyes, chan notices a lot. “couldn’t really say the same, but welcome. i hope you’re adjusting well so far,” chan continued, returning his hand to the small of your back.

“i am, thank you! i—”

“i’m sorry i can’t really talk much right now, i have my things to return to,” chan was quick to cut kyungho off, surprising both you and the latter. “it was nice meeting you, though,” chan quickly bowed before disappearing behind the metal door, leaving you slightly bothered.

“well, i gotta get going too,” kyungho finally broke the awkwardness between you. “i’ll text you later about the details?” he smiled despite the peeking confusion behind his eyes, to which you nodded before sending him off.

it was unlike chan to behave like that. sure, he might grow a little rough with his actions when work hasn’t been going the way he wanted things to be, but he was doing just fine. he was all lovey dovey with you less than 5 minutes prior, wasn’t he?

“baby,” cracking the door open, you were met with a stern-faced chan—eyes locked to his monitors with a muffled bass resonating from the headphone over his ears. the sight led you to a defeated sigh; you knew better than anyone to not bother the lion when he’s in this state.

but little did you know,

when you decided to back away and close the door, chan felt as if his worst nightmare had come true.

he knows it’s stupid to think that you’d ever cheat on him, but there’s also no guarantee that you would never fall for someone else and realize that maybe your happiness wasn’t with him. it terrifies chan to realize that maybe one day, you’d meet someone and realize that there’s someone better than him—someone better looking, someone who could treat you better, someone who could give you everything that you could ever wished for.

chan is scared that he’s not enough, and never will be.

for someone who’s been in his seat for so long, chan understands that at times his life does feel rather fleeting—like he’s simply going through the motions as he tries to stay afloat. everything—everyone—goes by so fast, and along the way, chan somehow learned how to shut down his feelings just so he could survive. he knew—he hoped, that as life gets better, he’ll come to find the opportunity to learn how to feel again.

but then, again, not everything he knows he needed to do proves to be easy.

it took him a while, but when he finally reached a point where he felt like life’s doing better for him, chan finally realizes that he now has love within him to give. he tried sharing them with his bandmates, he tried sharing them with his friends and family—hell, he even tried to share them with every single soul he met, but nothing fills him with the sense of content he was looking for…

until he met you.

chan knew he shouldn’t—you were his coworker, but despite him trying his best not to view you in a special light, he couldn’t help but return his gaze to your bright smile whenever you’re in the room. sure, you’re passionate about what you do, and it sure inspires him—but to see how your shoulders relax whenever you pop open a new book, or how happy you looked browsing through the convenience store aisles while trying to find what kind of new snacks you’ve never seen before,

it feels like he finally found what to be at peace felt like. he finally knew what love should look like—and it’s you.

a soft touch on his shoulder snaps chan out of his trance, eyes wide as it met your worried pair. your gentle smile was the second thing he noticed, and his eyes finally trailed down to the box of pineapple juice and a few snacks along the roll of kimbab perched on his desk.

“i know you’re busy,” your voice finally came clear as soon as chan took off his headphone, “but you need to eat first, okay? it’s almost 2, and i know you didn’t eat much earlier before you left. i’m not gonna bother you again if you eat now—i’ll even head home if you need time to focus, but that’s as long as you eat. okay?”

“…then i’m not eating.”

“baby—”

“i don’t want you to go home,” chan reiterated—and that’s when you finally see the tinge of sadness behind his eyes. “i’m not eating if you’re gonna go.”

“oh baby—what happened?” your voice turned gentle as you took his face in your hands, gently grazing the pads of your thumbs over his skin. “are you okay? do you—”

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” you tilted your head, now confused. “for…?”

“just… everything,” chan exhaled, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and rested his forehead on your stomach. “i know i’m difficult, but please. don’t leave.”

“baby you’re not difficult,” you furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled. what happened in the 30 minutes you were gone? did something terrible happened? all sorts of thoughts were running through your head.

“and i’m not leaving,” your voice were stern, and you felt the way chan slightly tightened his arms around you. “where am i supposed to even go anyway? i’m already home.”

if chan wasn’t tearing up before, then he sure is now.

“even if i’m not perfect?” he quietly muttered—and you’re slowly piecing the puzzles together. “even if i’m not tall enough? even if my hair is always messy? even if i’m not fashionable? even if—"

“stop right there, mr. bahng,” you stopped him, peeling yourself off from chan and gazed right at his flushed face, “why are you being mean to my boyfriend? where does this came from, hm? no one’s allowed to say shit to my boyfriend like that!” your pursed your lips and gently lowered yourself to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, only then smiling when chan let out a soft giggle.

“were you upset about me talking to kyungho sunbae earlier?” you questioned, and despite the lack of reply from your boyfriend, you’re pretty sure you knew what his answer was based on the minuscule shift on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i thought our interactions wasn’t important enough, so i never really brought him up to you. had i known you’d feel differently about that, i would’ve told you right away,” you apologized, smiling as you noted the faint glint returning in his eyes. “we did met in college, but he was just a senior i came to shadow a couple times when i started out in the industry.”

“i was really surprised when he turned out to be the new guy in my team,” you continued, fingers gently tracing his features, “but what really shocked me was turns out, i actually know his wife.”

you watched as your boyfriend connected the dots, jaw falling upon realizing the tiny detail he had skipped through despite catching a short glimpse of thin silver band on his finger.

“i met his wife a few times since we were pretty close in high school, and he’s been trying to dig out some information from me since their anniversary is just around the corner and he wanted to surprise her. he was just making sure he got the details right without texting me since his texts are synced to their shared device,” you explained, letting a giggle slip when you caught the blush creeping up your boyfriend’s face.

“…i see.”

the echo of your laugh only grew in volume when your boyfriend began to avoid your eyes, resorting to him burying his face on your stomach. adorable.

“it’s okay, baby. i understand why you’d get jealous,” your lips were set into a wide grin as you held your boyfriend close. “i’m still really sorry, though. i really wasn’t trying to hide this, i promise. i’ll tell you straight away if anything like this ever happened again.”

“okay.”

“so…” reducing your giggles to a smile, you gently run your nails on your boyfriend’s scalp, trying to soothe him, “am i forgiven?”

a muffled whine and a nod after, chan finally gazed up at you and added, “if only you’re eating with me.”

“oh baby,” cradling his face in your hands with a smile, you inched closer and placed a light peck over his pouting lips, “i’ll even stay here and cuddle all day with you.”

only then, chan finally allowed himself to laugh.

“well, then don’t mind if i say yes to that.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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multistan-247 · 1 year

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❝ 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 ❞

⚠︎ Characters: bf! toji zenin x gf! fem reader

⚠︎ Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, explicit smut, nipple play, nicknames, established relationship, toji showing off his strength and his insatiable appetite for you.

⚠︎ Synopsis: Toji loves to get his hands on you when you slip on his t-shirts after a long night of love making and wants more.

A/N: a repost because tumblr loves to be a bish and send complaints abt one of my best works.

He's been at this for a while now.

Ever since Toji slid his hands up your thighs, smirking when learnt the absence of your panties, his chuckle in your ears makes you shudder.

"An open invite for me, huh sweetheart? Well, who am I to say no to that?"

So when you found yourself laying on the cold kitchen counter, bare for his eyes to feast upon, a blush streaks the plum of your cheeks. His eyes soften when they catch you blushing, but the predatory look never fades.

He hums and buries his raven head between your thighs, immediately gaining moans from you as his mouth greedily takes what he wanted.

"I eat pussy for myself." He'd said, the first time he ate you out.

Loud slurping sounds, provocative and loud, now fill the kitchen as the aroma of freshly made coffee and toast linger in the air.

"T-Toji."

You mewl, tugging at his free raven locks and your thighs threaten to close around his head. Calloused hands grip them open, squeezing or running his thumbs over your skin mindlessly.

Toji was a starved man, finally finding his elixir of life between your thighs, his own personal heaven. He was selfish with the way he eats you out but knew exactly what triggers you.

Your moans grow high-pitched when he slowly drives his tongue into your pussy, drawing the beginning of an orgasm from you. His slurps become louder; filthier. Your nipples tighten, and he notices the effect of his actions in your bodily reactions.

"Toji- Toji- please- please-"

"Shhh, little girl. You're distracting me."

He says in a reprimanding tone and hooks his brawny arms under your thighs, pulling you impossibly close to his greedy mouth.

"Ha- Toji!"

He doesn't stop at all.

You feel the peak of your orgasm unraveling quickly, but steadily, reducing all your moans into mewls of his name, your fingers tugging at your nipples.

He suddenly lets go of you, shock registering into your body when he slides his hands up your back, supporting your lower half and one around your neck, lifting you quite effortlessly, the position allowing him a lot more access to your pretty pussy as you squeal and your thighs twitch.

Toji's head is sandwiched between your thighs and he couldn't be more happier.

"I love your pussy. So wet and complaint for me."

He groans, the vibrations arousing goosebumps on your hypersensitive body. And then, his swollen lips suck on your clit so hard, your vision is reduced to black spots and then you come, his tongue going back to dive into your hole, not wasting a single drop of your juices.

"Fuck. You squirted."

Rising up from between your legs, the emerald green of his eyes blown wide with the lust occupying him. His mouth is red, coated in a sheen layer of your transparent juices and he darts out his tongue to lick it; and you groan, hiding your burning face behind your hands.

"You're so filthy." You tell him as you sit up, and he laughs, throwing his head back and eyes scrunching.

"Only for you, darling."

"Gimme my shirt. I'm cold and hungry." You pout, the coldness of the granite slab chilling you despite your previous activity.

"Nuh-uh. I'm hungry for your pussy. Breakfast can wait." He growls, sending another spark of desire to your belly. You don't have the opportunity to protest when he picks you up and makes his way to your shared room.

The neighbours hate the both of you for sure.

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sh1-n0bu · 8 months

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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 9: window sex with pantalone from genshin impact

warnings: cock/strap per traditions, marking, reader is possessive, slight exhibitionism, slight creampie

notes: will some of yall who sent asks abt some certain characters with certain tropes be okay with me blending your ask and kinktober together? pls let me know if u would want a separate fic or not

it was no secret that the ninth of the fatui harbingers was a sly man. maybe it was due to his secretive past or due to his job as a banker but one thing was certain. regrator was one sly man.

but not to his possessive lover who fucks him so good and make shim weak in the knees with just a simple kiss. not to his lover who marks him so possessively, making the banker look like he was mauled by some wild animal. not to his lover who pushes him flush against the glass window of their mansion, fucking their cum deeper into his gaping hole as he whimper of how people could see them.

“f-fuck! darling, please!! ahnng! gyaah♡︎ mmgh… eegk♡︎!!” the banker lets out another squeal, toes curling as he paints the glass window with his cum again. there was a small puddle forming on the rug covered floor. mixed up from both his and the amount you’re fucking deeper into him. he could just feel his belly bulging from how much there was inside him, slowly slipping out and trickling down his legs.

seeing the fluid that you worked so hard to fuck into him trickling down and being put to waste, you couldn’t help but click your tongue. can’t let your hardwork go to waste now, can you?

hooking a hand underneath one of his knees, you pull it up high, pushing him flush against the cold window of your mansion. the cold temperature applied to his bare skin and his over sensitive red cock had him whining out deliriously.

“you’ve been awfully close to that second harbinger, love. are you thinking of something?” you ask in a low voice, leaving another array of bitemarks on his neck and back. the pain and pleasure mixed together, making pantalone whimper more.

“n-no… no, my love. no no no. i would never. i would never, my love—!” the banker shakes his head frantically, knowing just how possessive you could get. and that just meant prolonged time of him getting fucked stupid on your cock.

too bad you weren’t feeling like showing him any mercy today. not only was he being awfully close to the one they called doctor, he neglected you for a while due to his work and travels to other nations. so it was only normal for you to feel slightly more possessive than usual.

“my love, please♡︎! people could—nngaah! could see us...♡︎” his voice trails off, turning into a high pitched squeal as you start to move your hips again.

the wet noises of plap! plap! continued, turning louder as you continue to try and fuck your bodily fluid deeper into him. stretching his hole out. making him squeal and burn up in shame at the thought of someone seeing you two together like this.

if was broad daylight. one of his most long working, loyal butler would be leaving the mansion to tend to the gardens. the curtains were open and you were pushing his body flush against the cold window. his butler could see you two! his butler could see how good you were fucking him. cumming inside his slutty hole and stretching his belly until it bulges from the sheer size of the strap.

he could be seen! the regrator, reduced into nothing but a silly cumslut in the hands of his lover.

oh but that also turned him on. just the thought of someone, anyone really, seeing the mighty regrator desperately bucking his hips back to make your cock graze against his prostate again with his face flushed bright red, drool slipping down his chin. archons, he wanted more. he wanted you to fuck him more.

pride thrown out the window, all pantalone could do was brokenly plead for more. hips trying to buck back into yours. hoping to feel your cock graze his prostate again. hoping to feel the bulge in his stomach grow bigger as he slowly goes dumber and dumber on your cock.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub pantalone #sub fatui #fatui x reader #fatui smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #pantalone smut #pantalone x reader #nobu’s kinktober 2023

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thesassypadawan · 3 months

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Spring Has Sprung (Master Anakin x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: This isn’t how you imagined your first time would be like. You thought it would be romantic, loving. That all changed though when your master was infected by a sex pollen during a mission. Taking what he’s always wanted, whether you like it or not, and…showing you a side of yourself that you never knew.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Sex pollen, hair pulling, rough sex, age gap implied (20 years), and Ani’s big dick. Padawan Reader is of age.

Notes: Happy First Day of Spring, lovelies!

“I’m sorry, angel… So sorry… I promise to make this up to you… To give you the moment you deserve…”

Despite his compassionate words, Anakin’s voice was low. Filled with lust, laced with darkness. A darkness that sent a chill down your spine, straight to your soaking core.

You let out a small whine as he slid in and out of you. Slow, teasing; pushing you further to your limit each time his hips pressed against yours.

With your ass high in the air, Ani kept his steady pace. Brushing your cervix with his tip, making you whimper…causing him to growl.

From the way his grip on your hips begins to tighten and how his thrusts grew more forceful. You could tell that what little of his self-control was quickly slipping away. That he would no longer be able to hold back. “Don’t be scared.”

This isn’t how you imagined your first time would be like. You had always pictured, had always hoped that it would be gentle…loving…the most romantic moment of your life. Instead it was being stolen away; stripped and reformed into something entirely different. Something more twisted and ugly. All thanks to the pollen…the pollen that had infected your master.

Well, at least one piece of your dream had come true…

He grabbed the back of your neck. Squeezing hard, enough to cause you to gasp out in pain and terror. “Do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about this?”

Organic hand moved higher, burying itself into your hair. “About the way you’d look beneath me.”

Pulling harshly, he yanked your head up. Hips now moving at a brutal speed. Length slamming into you over and over while you whined helplessly. “The feel of you clenching around my cock.”

Mecho hand slapped your ass painfully and you cried out. A small flame of pleasure igniting inside of you. “The sounds you’d make as I break in your tight, virgin pussy.”

A moan spilled from your lips. “Yes…please, yes.” That broke off in a high pitched mewl as his cold fingers brushed your clit.

You can practically hear the smirk in Anakin’s voice. “Please, huh? Please, what?” He pulled your hair roughly, the burn on your scalp sending shivers down your spine.

He pinched at your sensitive bud, swirling around it. Your walls fluttered in response and a gasp flew from your mouth. “Master! Please, master! Break me in and make me yours!”

“Better,” he grunted, tugging even harder. “Now tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the sting so overwhelmingly good. “You. It belongs to you.”

Removing his fingers, he lands another powerful smack on your ass. Pulling you up higher by your hair, he forces himself deeper. “What was that, padawan of mine? Couldn’t hear you.”

No words, all you manage to do is squeal in delight. Ani’s fingers were toying with your clit once more, his hips thrusting frantically. The sound of your obscene slapping only spurred you on, clinging to every inch of his rock-hard length,

Not answering him properly earned you a low, warning growl. Then a sharp tug, your neck snapping back. “Aargh! You, my pussy belongs to you!”

You felt his hot breath on your neck, followed by his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “That’s right, only your master’s. To cum and ruin whenever he pleases.”

No longer fighting your torn emotions, you let yourself get swept up in Anakin’s words. Your whole-body trembles, you clamp down hard. Fingers dig into the mattress and your toes curled. “Maaa…Master!” You wailed, your orgasm ripping though you.

Spent; you begin to fall forward, but are yanked back up. “Not yet! I’m not finished with you yet!”

His hand slid to your hip, squeezing it with a durasteel grip. He pounds into you without remorse. Bruising and abusing your poor cervix, while he chases after his own release.

It’s all too much, you’re so overstimulated. Tears stream down your face as the pain sets in. As the realization hits you…that you’re being used as nothing more than his personal cocksleeve. And maker help you, you have never been more aroused. “Cum! Cum, please! Want it! Need it!”

A loud groan filled the air. “Take it! Don’t you dare waste a single drop!” With one last forceful pull, he buried himself to the hilt. Cock twitching, shooting rope after thick rope deep inside of you. Filling you to the absolute brim.

Both panting, the hand in your hair slackened. Now gently massaging your poor overtaxed scalp. “I-I wasn’t too rough; was I, hatari?”

Anakin’s actions… His words… The pollen must have worn off...

Head tipping forward, you laughed softly. Relief with a hint of disappointment washing over you. “Nothing I-I couldn’t handle.”

Peace had fallen… Your Ani had returned to you… It was finally…

His grip began to tighten, hips slowly started to rock. And that voice; that voice filled with lust, laced with darkness muttered. “Good then you’ll be able to take much MUCH more.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

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I have another request! Your writing is just amazing.

Would love an Az x reader where she knows they are mates but doesn’t tell him because she can’t have kids and she thinks he will reject it if he finds out. So she starts pulling away or gets upset or something and then the bond snaps for him and he is confused as to why she doesn’t want it.

She finally tells him and thinks he will reject her because of it but it goes from angst to fluff and he’s all cute and says she is all he wants and he doesn’t care. Happy ending

thank you so much lovely! I love your requests, I think they're perfect for Az

All I've Ever Needed

Azriel x Reader

Leaned over the balcony, you swirled the champagne in your glass as the stars began to shoot across the sky, bathing Velaris in ethereal light. The quiet scuff of boots sounded next to you, a smile gracing your lips as you thought about the only person who would wear boots to Starfall.

Glancing up, you were met with hazel eyes, golden in this light as they focused on you. “You’re missing the show,” you nodded to the skyline in front of you.

“Am I?” Azriel murmured, so quiet you hardly heard him. Still, his gaze turned towards the sky, a comfortable silence wrapping around the pair of you like a warm blanket on this cold early Spring evening.

Azriel turned back towards you, inhaling deeply as he opened his mouth to speak when a rogue spirit soared towards him, glowing pale green light splattering throughout his onyx hair. Your laugh echoed loudly through the open night air, bringing a rare, broad smile to Azriel’s lips. His face lit up brighter than the stars that glowed like a halo around him, and the snap in your chest as the universe pulled you towards him was undeniable.

Breathless, you clutched your chest as emotions swirled within you. Mate, my mate, your heart chanted, as Azriel’s hand began to reach for yours. A high-pitched giggle sounded from below, interrupting the moment as little Nyx ran towards you.

“Uncle Azzy!” the toddler squealed in delight, laughter ringing through the air as Azriel lifted his nephew into his broad arms. “You have stars in your hair,” the small boy noted, chubby fingers reaching to tug on Azriel’s wavy tresses.

Azriel shook his head, Nyx laughing as stardust sprinkled all around the both of them. “There, now you have stars too,” Az murmured, setting Nyx back down for the child to run into Feyre’s arms.

“Happy Starfall,” she greeted you with a kiss to your cheek before turning to Azriel, a soft laugh leaving the High Lady as Nyx eagerly reached back for Azriel once more. “You are so good with him,” Feyre noted to Az, grinning at the shadowsinger’s blush from her compliment. “I can’t wait to see you with children of your own one day.”

The perfect bubble of this evening burst. Heart dropping, the skies of Velaris now a shattered snow globe as you registered Feyre’s words. Neither she or Azriel knew what you’d learned long ago from Madja, that you would never be able to bear children.

And now, as you watched Azriel’s blush deepen, your mate smiling while he played with his nephew, you realized how cruel the Cauldron must be for your mate to be someone you could never satisfy. Setting down your flute of champagne, you excused yourself as you abandoned not only the party, but any chance you’d hoped for with Azriel.

Months passed as you ignored the shadowsinger, ignored the way your heart called to him, how much you missed his kindness and friendship. Being the understanding person that he was, Azriel didn’t push you, didn’t try to force you when he noticed you distancing yourself. It somehow hurt more, knowing that the person who understood you most was still there, giving you the space you needed despite how much you wanted to run into his arms. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, tell him how much you loved him, trap him by telling that you were his mate when you could never give him the children he evidently wanted.

Walking down the streets of the Rainbow, Mor pressured you about Azriel’s birthday. “I know you two aren’t as close, and I won’t push about it, but you are going to his birthday tonight aren’t you?”

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you deliberated the question you’d been asking yourself for the past several weeks. “Of course I’ll go, Mor. We are still friends,” you promised, knowing that as much as you might dread this evening, missing Azriel’s birthday would cause too many issues among your family.

Mor left you alone, headed to meet Feyre at the art studio. You walked down the street, looking in the windows of art galleries and clothiers when something pulled you towards a small jewelry shop. You heart fluttered in your chest when you noticed the silver ring in the window, a small cobalt blue gem in the center.

You opened the door without thinking, your feet guiding you to where the jewelry sat in its display. The shopkeeper approached you, her kind green eyes twinkling as she looked between you and the ring.

“That is a beautiful piece. I’ve seen several males pass by admiring it. And we can do same-day engraving,” she spoke, her velvet voice thinly veiling her eagerness to make the sale.

As the idea came to you, you flashed her a smile. “I’ll take it.”

Hands shaking with nerves, you shyly maneuvered through the doorway to the River House, gift in hand as you made your way to the living room where your family was gathered. Mor approached you first, blonde hair flying as she ran towards you to wrap you in a hug. Handing you a drink, she looped her arm in yours, guiding you to the center of the room where you set the gift on the table.

Hazel eyes bored into you, Azriel staring unabashedly as he approached. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered, a lump in his throat as he looked over the gauzy lavender dress you donned. “You look beautiful.”

Blushing under his attention, you willed your heart to stop pounding against your chest as you spoke. “Of course. Happy birthday, Azriel,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning to greet the others.

Near the end of the evening, everyone was enjoying the beautiful cake Elain had prepared when Mor giddily clapped her hands. “Presents, now!” she demanded, shoving her own gift into Azriel’s hands. Azriel unwrapped the present, pink paper torn apart to reveal a pair of green, fuzzy earmuffs. “They’re to match the scarf I got you last Solstice!” Mor exclaimed, clearly proud of herself for such a thoughtful gift.

Azriel gave her a polite smile and a thank you, moving to unwrap the next gifts. From Cassian and Nesta, a new pair of boots, since apparently once of the Valkyries had thrown up on his other pair during training last week. From Feyre and Rhys, he was given a painting - a memory of the annual snowball fight from the last year, with Nyx included.

“Who is this from?” Azriel asked, holding up the small box with blue paper and black ribbon. You shyly raised your hand, a nervous smile on your face as Azriel’s eyes softened. “Thank you,” he said, never breaking eye contact.

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” you retorted with a giggle. Azriel’s eyes sparkled at your laughter, his hands deftly untying the ribbon as he carefully opened the box. He simply stared at it for a moment, silver lining his eyes as he held the box in his hands.

“I know you like to wear rings, and if you look at the side, I had it engraved for you,” you explained. Azriel carefully took the ring from the box, turning it over to see the outline of Ramiel, with Carynth shining above, and Azriel, Rhysand’s, and Cassian’s initials below.

Sliding the ring on his finger, Azriel looked to you, a look of shock crossing his features as he stumbled back, knocking his chair backwards in the process. You forgot to breathe for a moment, the only thought your brain able to process that Azriel now knew that you were mates. Standing up quickly, you uttered a goodbye as you ran out the front door in escape.

You made it halfway across the lawn when shadows swirled in front of you, Azriel towering over you as he appeared, anger swirling in his eyes. “You knew.”

You didn’t say anything, just held your chin high as you willed the tears not to fall. Azriel didn’t let up though, taking another step towards you. “How long have you known that we are mates?”

Eyes shuttering, you took a deep breath. “Since Starfall,” you eked out in a broken whisper.

Azriel’s face contorted in hurt and anger, his own voice shaky as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me? All of this time avoiding me, why wouldn’t you tell me that you didn’t want me?”

Something between a shocked laugh and a choking sound forced its way from your throat as you gaped at him. “Don’t want you? Azriel, all I want is you! It’s been agony trying to stay away, to keep the bond from snapping and trapping you with me. You deserve better, Az. You deserve more than I can give to you.”

Trying to step around him to walk away, Azriel swiftly slid into your path, the ring on his finger cool against your cheek as he guided your gaze to his. “How could you ever think that you wouldn’t deserve me? If anything, I don’t deserve you. You are kind, beautiful, thoughtful... You’re more than I could have dreamed of.”

You allowed yourself to lean into his touch for only a moment before you softly pulled his hand away from your face. You drew his hand up, clutching it in your own, savoring the warmth of his touch. “Azriel, I can’t have children. Madja told me years ago, it’s just not possible for me. And seeing you on Starfall with Nyx, you were so happy. And I cannot give you that. I cannot give you everything you want, can’t give you a family.”

Azriel’s hand wrapped around yours, pulling you into him, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Holding your chin between his fingers, he tilted your gaze to him. “You are my family. You are everything I could ever want, and more.” His lips brushed yours, the feeling of his smile against your own sending a burst of joy through you as you leaned up to kiss your mate.

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powerfultenderness · 1 year

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Savior

Summary: König drops everything to save you. Paring: König/F!Reader Rated: T+ Word count: 521 A/N: Neighbor!König. More fluff. Not part 2, just a little procrastination blurb. [More Neighbor König]

[Masterlist]

König acted on instinct. He only just got home, he hadn’t even had time to change, good thing he hadn’t stopped for take out. That high pitched, terrified, scream followed by a few loud thumps and more squeals echoed in his mind and heart as he rushed to your door. Before he could even reach the doorknob, the door flew open and you bumped into him with a quiet little grunt.

He grabbed your arms, steadying you in his hands, and shouted something at you in German. You didn’t bother asking him to translate, only squeaking out a meek, “help!”

He shoved you behind him, shielding you from danger as he quickly searched for whatever was out of place.

“In the bathroom!”

A combination of cold dread and hot rage ran through him. Someone tried to hurt you, while you were vulnerable. He would offer no mercy.

Was it the first breath he took since he heard your scream? He looked around the small bathroom…no one was there. “What?”

You popped up in the doorway and pointed at the wall. “There!”

He looked to where you were pointing and…started laughing, his entire body shaking with unnecessary adrenaline. A spider. Not even a big one. Just a common house spider.

“Don’t laugh! Get it!” You cried, still shaking.

“Shit, darling! I thought you were in danger!” He was still laughing, at this point he had to lean on the counter to keep himself upright.

“Just get it! Pleeeease!”

Like a splash of cold water, hearing you beg was sobering.

“Whatever you want.”

He raised his hand-

“Wait! Don’t kill it!”

He paused and looked at you, “what?”

“It didn’t do anything wrong but be where I don’t want it. It doesn’t deserve to die. Just get it out of here, please.”

König’s heart squeezed as he looked at the way you pleaded for the life of some little spider that you were scared of. His instincts were right. You needed him to protect you.

He scooped the spider into his hand and you jumped out of the way so he could carry it outside. And just because you asked, he actually took the thing outside.

You were waiting atop the stairs when he came back, looking a little sheepish but smiling at him like he was the light of your life, when in fact, it was the opposite. You were the light of his life.

“Thank you, König!”

And you hugged him, standing on the top of the stairs with him a few steps down, it was easy to wrap your arms around his neck. The fear that coursed through his veins when he thought you were in danger finally fading into your warm embrace. “You’re safe now.” He promised, as long as he was alive he’d keep you safe.

You caught movement out of the corner of your eye after you tossed your garbage in the dumpster. It was a spider. If you squinted, it might have been the same spider…

“Hey there, little guy!” You grinned as it scurried away, “excellent job, wingman!”

You weren’t at all scared of spiders.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #blurb #neighbor!könig

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i23kazu · 9 months

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GENSHIN MEN & DOING CUTE AUTUMN THINGS .

characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. happy almost october. which means happy almost christmas | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

zhongli

autumn, with zhongli, is sitting around a bonfire together. his hands are tightly wrapped around you, with you leaning against his shoulder – liyue never had seasons like these, so experiences like these came far and few. it was lovely all the same, sitting nestled in the leaves with you.

diluc

autumn, with diluc, is helping him with the autumn harvest. carts of grapes, pumpkins, cantaloupes, tomatoes, and more were filled to the brim, with two satisfied smiles on your faces after as he pushed the cart back to the manor. a sweet tradition, always ending with a glass of the harvest's finest wine at the end of the day.

kaeya

autumn, with kaeya, is always filled with baking and your household smelling like the grand mixture of cinnamon, butter and nutmeg. pumpkin pie, apple pie, cinnamon rolls, pecan bars, apple crisps and so many more left no more room for actual eating at the kitchen counters – time to host another soirée!

childe

autumn, with childe, is always competing to gather the biggest pile of leaves outside to jump into, within the coziness of your backyard. some years, the children eagerly watched the you go against each other, only for childe to tackle you into your pile of leaves. you always forgive him, though – you can't stay mad at your favourite ginger.

neuvillette

autumn, with neuvillette, is taking a stroll through the cold gardens of fontaine. the air seems to whisper and flitter about, and the melusines skip around as happily as ever. neuvillette forgets about all his worries the moment his hand slips in yours so perfectly – it seems as if your hand was made exactly for his.

alhaitham

autumn, with alhaitham, is booking an isolated cabin in the woods – and spending your most favourite two weeks of the year there. the air is sweetened with the scent of cinnamon biscuits and browned butter. you and alhaitham finally get to take a breath away from the bustle of sumeru city, and curl up within each other to read and live.

kaveh

autumn, with kaveh, is booking every single haunted house and maze you can find on the sumeru websites. you laugh as you watch your boyfriend's face turn from pleasantness to a horror-filled shock, the most high-pitched squealing and shrieking you've ever heard extract out of his body when the jumpscares start. he may have grabbed your hand too tightly, and now there's a red mark.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako (send ask to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

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perkqularkreashions · 4 months

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Living with the Enemy, Joe Goldberg x Reader

Part 1: Last Nice Guy in New York??

Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.

Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|

Warnings: Mature Content, Manipulation, Stalking, Slightly Proofread.

It had been some time since you last spoke with Peach and her willing and obedient entourage. You blissfully ignored them, avoiding the usual hangouts and skipping daily walks with your son. You took different routes and dined at other eateries, and for a while, you enjoyed this simple and slow-paced lifestyle.

It was a particularly warm day in New York; the increasing winds had died, allowing you to turn off the space heaters that litter your apartment. You relished the smell of cleaning products and baby formula rather than burning rubber. You watched as Rafi bounced around in his walker from his room back to the living room. His hand slapped against some trinket that sang a quick tune of “You are my sunshine.” It was probably his favorite plaything on that bouncer, but it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. The loud and high-pitched continuous loop of "you are my sunshine... my only sunshine", but he loved it, so you endure it. You cracked open the window, allowing the fresh air to filter into the apartment, the warm breeze washing over you briefly before returning to stillness. Contently, you sighed. Your eyes flickered to the door; a hesitant knock followed by two more confident knocks. You shuffled off the couch, unable to gaze through the peephole due to the grime built up over the years. You mentally noted that you need to tell the landlord about that. Unlocking your three deadbolts, you pressed your ear against the door, hearing the muffled female voices.

You opened the door and noticed Peach, Beck, Lynn, and Annika. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, Peach charging into the apartment. Her eyes glanced around as she brightly smiled at Rafi before returning her cold gaze to you. She crosses her arms, waiting for you to fill the silence with an apology. The tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, palpable and suffocating everyone as they all watched you, their once easy rapport replaced by an uneasy silence. Every word left unsaid seemed to echo between them, filling the space with a sense of unease that was almost tangible. You chuckled before turning away, gathering some of Rafi’s items out of habit. “You don’t just go MIA for weeks like that!” Everyone slowly shifts into the apartment; you feel suffocated. “I called, you never answer.”

You plainly answered, “I know.” You shoved some clothes into the hamper before returning to the group. You tried to think of something to say and formulate something harsh and crude to say back to Peach and her brainless minions that followed her every call, jumping at the snap of her fingers and pleading for some sort of acceptance from her. You sighed, sitting on the sage-colored love seat, your elbows resting on your knees as you rubbed your temples gently. “Peach, you and your…whatever this is. Can happily get the fuck out of my apartment. You can’t just storm into my home and expect me to drop to my knees begging for you to what…forgive me?”

You felt the couch dip next to you, the smell of her engulfing you. It iterated the fuck out of you yet offered you a warm feeling. She was home; despite her manipulation, gas-lighting, and bitch behavior, she was home. You finally looked at her, your face growing warm as you pressed your lips together. Her smile growing as she knew, she squealed, wrapping her arms around you. “Say you forgive us… me?” You nodded against her before pulling back. “Great, let’s go out to eat! We’ve missed you and have lots to catch you up on!”

You nodded, pressing a feigned smile on her lips; Annika smiled, wrapping you in a brief, one-armed hug. She was followed by Lyn, who seemed more than pleased that you had returned. They moved away, gawking at Rafi as they spoke with him in an annoying, high-pitched tone. They were flashing toys in front of him before snatching them quickly as he giggled loudly. You stood beside Beck; an awkward silence washed over you both. Beck wanted to speak… she wanted to ask if what Peach had been filling in her head was true. Suppose you had been trying to pine after Joe; how would she feel? She admitted her feelings for Joe were growing; she liked having him around and the attention he provided her when Benji was off on a binge of whatever drug would provide him with whatever relief. “We missed you… I missed you,” Beck spoke, cutting through the silence.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, bumping into her shoulder and offering her a half smile. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’ve been dying to tell you about everything, I mean everything,” Beck whispers through her laugh as she watches you for a moment. Beck confided you about everything; you weren’t judgmental and never gave advice—you were just a lending ear that she craved in the whirlpool that was Peach. You sighed, knowing that no matter where you were in your life and how far you thought you had escaped Peach, she was always lurking in the shadows, ready to devour you at any minute.

You hummed softly, your hand occasionally, moving the visor back to check to see if your son was still alive. Your hand fluttered in front of his face; quickly, he reached for your fingers. You had spent most of the morning shopping for groceries and wanting to find some fresh produce. You gathered green apples, strawberries, and some blueberries. It has been a slow-paced morning; class was canceled, you were finally caught up on your assignments, and only needed to grade some papers from some of your classes. You hadn’t seen Peach since your lunch date with the girls two weeks ago. It was spent, for the most part, talking about Beck’s choices in men and the plethora of men that have taken her to bed… all this steaming from Benji ghosting her. You didn’t know what she saw in him, but he was a poser and couldn’t hold down an idea, let alone his own business. She had fucked, Mr. Bedroom Eyes, someone that she had met in the library, all while leading on Joe and worrying about Benji.

Your eyes shifted slightly; noticing him underneath the navy-blue baseball cap, he examined the fruit before placing it down. You smiled brightly, peering left and right before approaching him. You stuttered for a moment; wait is it weird that you were approaching him? Did you even need to say hello? You stood behind him, mindlessly watching his gaze at the fruit. Weaving through the throngs of people as your eyes held steady on him, your hands tightening against the stroller. Panic surged through you, threatening to overwhelm my senses as your hands hesitantly reach out to his shoulder. Joe jumped as he spun around; a toothy grin fell on his lips as his eyes shifted to Rafi. “Sorry, this must be weird.” You quickly tried to explain, and yet there you stood.

“No!” Joe smiled, “No weird at all.” He watched you, taking in your beauty from the curve of your lips to the furrow of your brows. Your eyes are a soft color, filled with so much emotion. He contained his excitement, continuing to handle the slightly ripe peach in his hand. A soft breath of relief escaped your lips; Joe watched you, taking in every moment, from the twitch of your eye when you smiled to the slight tightening of your hands against the stroller’s handle. Were you nervous? You didn’t need to be! I am all yours! Joe’s thoughts muddled aggressively through his head, his eyes concentrating more on your slight movements, the way you shifted your weight to your left hip as you stood there, watching him. Your index finger nervously taps before stopping.

“Good, I thought it’d be weird if I recognized you in this crowded space,” you laughed; it was soft. A small smile crept on his face as he moved closer to you, a single step to be closer to you. You slightly shifted, leaning against the stroller as you pushed it in front of you before bringing it back. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his goofy take hold of his lips. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded hesitantly; he stepped forward, watching you walk away in the crowd, occasionally wiggling your fingers in front of your son’s view.

“Are you alone?” Joe mentally cringed as you paused, peering over your shoulder in confusion, “I meant, I could keep you company while you go shopping… If you don’t mind.” Do you mind? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Joe thought; he watched you ponder his offer, and you fully faced him as you smiled, nodding at him. Joe joined you, shoulders bumping into each other as you continued to walk through the farmer’s market. Looking at the different herbs and vegetation sprawled on the tables, you fingered at them, rubbing your fingers with a concentrated look on your face as Joe pushed Rafi. Joe watched you in awe, his hand gripping against the stroller in angst and yearning. He watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear; you quickly turned to him, putting a strong-smelling herb in his face. He winced as he swatted at his nose; you laughed softly before agreeing with the saleswoman that the left one was more pungent.

“My mom made this weird-tasting soup for me when I was sick, but it always helped. It helps when Rafi has a little bug. He hates it; he scratches at my arms when I force-feed it to him.” You laughed, showing him the small craters in her skin that hadn’t healed properly. Joe took your arm, letting his thumb trace over the craters. “He’s so mean when he wants to be; I guess he gets that from his dad.” Joe watched you, taking in every word that was said.

“His dad hit you?” You were stunned; you placed the herbs in your tote bag before looking at Rafi, making a slight face and tickling him. Joe observed you, your face tense as you seemingly tried to feign enjoyment in the brief time with your son. He watched how you weren’t standing so close to him; your shoulders still touched every again, but not the same as before. Joe cursed at himself for bringing it up; Joe hated that he made you feel so small and helpless again. You froze at the sound of your name; Joe noticed it, too. He peered over his shoulder seeing someone rush to you, his hand waving wildly as he began to jog to catch up to you. He called your name again. Joe’s eyes flickered at you, and you were frozen, eyes wide in fear. Joe leaned closer to you, but you were snapped out of thoughts when the man stood directly behind you. You slowly turned, now facing the stranger. Joe watched the man; something about was familiar, the curve of his lip and the bushiness of his brow. His hair was long and pulled into a rendition of a man-bun with some pieces falling in front of his face; he was clean-shaven and muscular. His skin was a deep cooper color that glistened but wasn’t sweat…more of an oil-based lotion.

“It’s been so long!” he smiled with a bright smile, teeth perfect and in a row, no obscurities or imperfection. He tried reaching out for a hug, but you backed away, letting a small smile rest on your lips. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to for Joe to notice how uncomfortable you were. “Who’s this?” His eyes never left yours. Joe could see the intimidation in his eyes, and his smile never reached his eyes when he spoke.

Joe moved the stroller before him, stretching his hand in the process; a bright smile rested on his lips. “Joe.” The man didn’t acknowledge him or care for his name. Finally, he passed him a glance, his face churning into a distasteful look. His eyes moved to the stroller, and as a bright smile crossed his lips, he bent down for a moment. Wiggling at Rafi’s shoes, speaking in a babbled baby talk before looking up to you again.

“You know he misses you and him; you shouldn’t run away. Especially with his child.” The man spoke, and he stood to his feet. “See around.” He spoke before brushing past you. Joe grabbed your arm, and you winced momentarily, flinching away from him. Your eyes finally connected with Joe’s; you sucked in a deep breath before grabbing unto the stroller. A sense of comfort washed over you.

“Thanks for today… for this. I appreciate it,” you hummed. Joe nodded, watching you walk away; his eyes focused on the man who had ruined your perfect day together. It started innocently enough, stumbling into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Plunging into the maze of crowds, Joe found himself, trailing the stranger, drawn by the same curiosity that everyone in the market has. Joe shadowed his movements, picking up a weathered journal or a fruit that was slightly ripe. His eyes cut to the man every chance he had gotten. As Joe meanders through the maze of makeshift booths and colorful displays, the man he’s following remains blissfully unaware of his presence. They weave through the crowd, partaking in a dance that only Joe is aware of.

“Dom! Dom! Dom Batista! As I live and breathe in the flesh it is you!” Joe groaned at the dramatic nature of New Yorkians, every word that stumbles out of their mouth an illicit affair with Shakespeare and a Soap Opera. “It has been so long since we’ve last seen each other!”

Joe followed behind you, face low as he watched you hurriedly move through the streets, passing men and women alike.

Batista….Batista….Batista is the name of a Judge in New York City; their mother was an actress who starred in plenty of movies before her fall from grace and getting addicted to cocaine. They had three children, three boys: Jonathan, the oldest—who was a criminal defense attorney. He was married with two sons. He didn’t post on social media, but his wife, Mary Glassgo, came from an Affluent family in Virginia who had established wealth through “other means.” during the late 1700s, did, in fact, post and posted often. She was overly descriptive and pictured all the locations where they dined, shopped, and vacationed. She was on a trip with her two sons, enjoying the mountains in Vermont. The caption was, “Can’t get away from life all the time, but when I do, it’s always with my two favorite boys.” Joe followed you across the street, scrolling through her Instagram until he came across a photo from Thanksgiving; he dragged his thumb across the screen, revealing a picture of her and another man who looked similar to Jonathan, tagged was St_Do_Batista. Dominick, the middle— Joe, recgonized him as the man he saw today; he frequently posted almost every day at the gym. He was a professional boxer; his face wasn’t riddled with too many lacerations and scars, which indicated that he was good at his craft. He had a girlfriend, one of many girlfriends. They all came and gone, as soon as a new one would be posted with a bright smile, not knowing her fate. Petite blondes, curvy brunettes, tall red-heads, even some bald girls with tattoos riddling every surface of their bodies.

“Hello….” Joe thought; he scrutinized the photo, and you were smiling, your cheek pressed against him as you embraced him. He just won a fight; he hugged you tight. Joe scrolled to the following image… it was a video; he played it. You giggled as he spun, cheering as one hand held you tight against him. You spoke gently, words that the camera didn’t pick up, nor did anyone else. He continued to scroll as he noticed that most photos were of you cooking in his house, at the park with him, on his couch with the laptop tucked on your thighs as you carefully examined whatever was on the screen. You took up a majority of his life and then nothing. Joe saw a picture of him and another look similar to the Batista family; he clicked on the tagged name. RafiBat didn’t post much, but when he did, he generated a lot of attention from women. He was a boxer, too, and he and his brother were often referred to as the Basista Brothers. He didn’t post you often, once or twice; that was in photos with Dominick. But it was evident that you both were friends. He was attending a university known for its Marine Biology program. He had been traveling overseas, where he had been for the last few months, pictures of him with sharks, fish, turtles, and some other classmates. There was a picture of you, smiling brightly in his bed with her belly exposed; it was small, possibly in the early months of your pregnancy. His caption read “My Everything.”

Joe’s attention was averted to the left as he noticed someone briskly walking, eyes concentrated on you. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. He spoke before hanging up. Did you not notice? Did you feel someone following you? Joe broke off in a sprint, laughing softly before calling out your name; you peered over your shoulder in confusion, hesitating as you squinted your eyes at him.

Joe’s body collided against yours, taking your hand as he smiled gently. “Why’d you run off like that? I was looking for you everywhere!” he calls out exaggeratedly loud, his hand falling at his side; he watched your wide eyes swiftly snap to him while he continued to guide you forward, Joe’s hand pressed on your lower back. “Someone has been following you,” he whispered through a gritted smile. Her body stiffened as his words echoed through the stillness in the air; you were tempted to look, her head inching to the left slightly. “No, don’t look… Just keep walking baby.” You hummed in understanding. Joe peered over his shoulder, watching the man avoiding the dim street lights, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his body focused ahead of him, but he could see the whites of his eyes and the darkness of his orbs staring deep into your side. Then Joe remembered the small encounter you had at Peach’s party, the drunken party-goer grabbing you, retelling his woes of missing their friend group and a man who seemed to miss you just as much. Your body reacted negatively, your eyes watering, and your skin paled as you stumbled away from him. Joe watched your hands dance against your face, trying to wipe the anxiety that was trailing through your body. Joe wanted to lead you home, protecting you from the evils lurking in the shadows you weren’t aware of. Joe allowed you to lead you both to your apartment complex. Joe swiftly grabbed Rafael, allowing you to close the stroller. You put in the code 76477; Joe held open the door as you shuffled in your hands, digging through your satchel in search of your keys. He noticed three locks; just as if you practiced this a hundred times, you easily unlocked the door.

Joe smelled deeply, taking in the scent of baby powder and your aroma. Rafael rested against his neck, his chest breathing gently as he slept. His tiny breaths could be heard as they smacked against his pacifier. Joe scanned your apartment again; it was vastly bigger than Beck’s and his. His eyes fell on an opening; it wasn’t too big but just big enough to have a window, an oak-colored crib decorated with white and green. “You can just set him down in there…He won’t last too long in the crib,” He heard your voice as you locked the front door. You were latching on the deadbolts and other self-brought knick-knacks. Joe set Rafi down, brushing his hair out his face; he squirmed slightly in a panic. Joe quickly turned on the mobile, slightly out of reach for Rafi. He pressed a button; the mobile began to hum to live, and soon, water sounds came on. Splashing, sounds of whales and dolphins, and what seems like rain hitting the waters. It was soothing, and Rafi’s face soon mellowed. Joe allowed Rafi to hold unto his finger; his grip was tight as his body sprawled on the crib’s mattress.

“He usually isn’t so peaceful to put down. He must like you.” He heard you whisper; Joe peered over his shoulder, watching your head pressed against the door’s frame. Joe removed his finger, returning his attention to you. You walked out of the room as Joe followed you. The silence washed over you as you paced around the room, trying to find the right words. Joe stood there, waiting, allowing you to take as much time as needed.

“Joe?” You finally whispered, your eyes finally landing on him. In that moment, Joe felt your souls tying together, latching and burning into each other. “Thank you.” you pushed out, tucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

“I noticed him following you after the market…I didn’t know what to do but when I saw him trying to cross the street… Who is he?”

“Dominick, my ex’s brother. Rafi’s father.” Joe nodded; you trusted him, you trusted him. You weren’t a liar like Beck, “Dom and I were close; I even thought we would be together, but then he got a girlfriend. He stopped coming around, that’s when I met Rafael, he was gentle at first…but I guess that was the point. I had a fling with him and then with his brother, shit just got messy fast, and I got pregnant. That’s when he got abusive… I tried pressing charges, but his dad always dropped the cases, saying that I was a daughter of a junky prostitute and a “john.” I asked for a different judge and each time I was denied. I was finally….finally allowed to get a restraining against him, but it expired, and I wasn’t allowed to renew due to no current impending dangers.” Joe watched you; he stepped close to you, grabbing your arms. You sighed, looking up at him.

“If you need anything, anything… I am here for you.” Joe whispers; you nod, folding your arms underneath each other.

Please ask me to say; please beg me to stay. Joe thought; he nodded as he moved away from the couch. “Joe, wait!” You stood up, “You don’t mind staying for the night, do you? I would feel comfortable with a man around the house… just for the night.” Your voice is soft, and Joe could tell you needed him. He couldn’t deny you. He peered over his shoulder and smiled.

The night progressed as you lay in the bed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Your eyes squeezing shut, trying to feign being asleep in hopes of tricking your mind into slumber.

“Joe, are you sleeping?” You called out into the darkness, “Joe?” You called out once more, panicked; you sat up quickly squinting through the darkness as you watched his chest slowly fall and rise. You sighed for a moment, shifting comfortably in the bed.

“Yes?”

Joe rises from the couch, groaning as he shuffles to you. He crawls into bed, and you open the covers, allowing him to slide in. His eyes were low from being awoken from his sleep, his hands tight as he observed you move closer to him. You craved his warmth; a sense of comfort and protection seeped through to you. Your eyes focused on Joe’s, watching through the stillness of the night and the slight light that the moon gave you. His hand gently reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear, holding onto the strand until he reached the end. He moved closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He held it, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want to push himself onto you; he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to be like your ex or your father. Joe pulled back, your eyes fluttering open hesitantly, and you moved closer to him. Your lips molded together, smacking in the silence as your slight hums vibrated into his mouth. He pulled away; you were vulnerable and seeking out comfort in him. He needed to wait to see if this feeling rang true. He wanted you more than you could know, more than he thought possible. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this, not right now… not ever. He cuffed your cheek, kissing your forehead before you, wishing you a good night.

Burning something evoked a wide range of emotions in Joe, a symbol of something new shifting in the atmosphere. The flicker of a match igniting, the scent of smoke swirling in the air, and the crackle of flames consuming the body— the overwhelming sensory experiences that engage him in the death of Benji. He stood over the growing flames, watching them dance against his body; Joe thought he would feel at ease. He couldn’t–his mind racing back to you and Rafi. Joe grew angry, feeling compelled to kill Benji; he was powerless against the woe of Beck, her smile and innocence being stripped away. It's as if his autonomy is being stripped away, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. The heightened feelings of frustration and resentment began to grow through this loss of control.

He thought of you as he smelled the charred remains of Benji, your face dancing in the flames. He sighed, pushing his forearm against his brow. He quickly dialed you; he needed to hear your voice.

“Joey?” Joe heard you whisper, soothing all anxieties that rushed through him. His hand gripping the steering wheel. “Joey? Everything alright?” He hummed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. It has been one month since he had forced his way into your apartment, leaving articles of clothing behind and coming up with any excuse to stay the night, not that you minded. He had a key to your apartment now, coming in the mornings and getting Rafi together for daycare as you prep for classes and graded papers. Your glasses hung off the bridge of your nose while you gnawed on the cap of the pen—your eyes shifting from the monitor to the paper as you scribbled some markings on it before moving on to the next. The way his lips danced against yours, his hands gently caressed your skin as your lips tangled.

“Yes, everything is alright.” He heard you shuffling, the covers shifting off your body. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, Joey, no, you didn’t. What’s wrong?” You could always read him; you would always tell. You didn’t even have to look at him to see that something was picking at him. He knew that you were good for him; you were everything that he needed you to be. Joe remained silent; the only that was heard was Rafi’s babbling. “Just come over and well talk, okay.”

“Okay.” Joe hung up and made his way to you, his head spinning from his recent murder. His fingers trembled as he pulled down your street, finding a parking spot adjacent to your apartment building. He moved out of the car. His key jingled in the locks swiftly; you swung open the door, watching in bewilderment. Worry drawn on your eyebrows and lips. “Joey, what is going on? Was it—”

“No…no, just Beck.” You nodded for a moment, allowing him to enter the apartment; slamming the door, you proceeded to deadbolt the locks. You stared at the final lock, trying to compose yourself; he wasn’t yours. You were just friends. Why did it hurt at the mention of her name at the thought of him being at her apartment, embracing her? “She just makes me insane, always having to watch her and look out for her. All the lies and the—” You picked up the clothes that scattered the floor, tossing them in Rafi’s dirty clothes hamper. Mindlessly, you grabbed the toys, tossing them in a bin as they interrupted his sentence.

“I see.” was all you could mumble out, your eyes flickering to him. He continued to ramble about how he didn’t trust her–how she was always so secretive around him. But that was Beck; the doe-like look in her eyes always masked the truth that crawled beneath the surface. She was manipulative; everything she did was calculated and meticulous. Her bold red lip contrasted against her pale skin, and her dress revealed just enough of her thigh to keep her professor yearning for more. The way she teased and poked at man’s most animalistic and primitive yearning, dangling it in front of their face before yanking it. You turned to face him, letting the hamper fall against the floor.

“I frankly don’t want to hear about Beck. I understand she’s your girlfriend or whatever she is but, I can’t take hearing about her. When you’re sitting in my apartment, helping me take care of my son… playing house with me. I don’t want to hear about Beck. I get enough of her when I am with them. Every issue that plagues her, I hear about, all the damn time. Benji, you, the Captian. I can’t–I just can’t do it.” You turn away, heated you move into the bathroom face burning with embarrassment and angry. Angrily you slapped at the knob, turning on the hot water on. It screeched for a moment before the hot water spit out.

As you step into the shower, the hot water cascades over your skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil. Droplets dance across your body, carrying away the remnants of anger and frustration that cling to you like a heavy cloak. With each passing second, the tension melts away, replaced by a soothing sensation of renewal. You close your eyes, allowing the water to envelop you completely, washing away the Beck and Joe's monologue that echoed in your mind. Steam fills the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you stand beneath the gentle stream, letting it cleanse your body and soul. Slowly, the weight of the conversation begins to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and calm. In this sanctuary of steam and solitude, you find solace. You sighed as the shower opened; you saw his feet planted in the shower and the sound of a soft sigh resting in the air. You feel his hands gliding against your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips pecked your shoulder, sucking in the aroma that cascaded around him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” His hand gently drummed your abdomen, his cock hardening against you as he pecked at you, his hands moving to your breast, kneading at them slowly, letting his fingers squeeze and tug at your nipples.

“Please, forgive me” he whispered; you couldn’t say no to him. So, you nodded, turning around fully to face him. Pressing a gently kiss against his lip, stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel as you instantly moved to Rafi’s crib.

As the tears streamed down his Rafi’s flushed cheeks, Joe’s heart ached with empathy. With gentle hands, he lifted the sobbing child into his arms, cradling him against his chest, his hand rubbing circles against his back something that he noticed his mom and he liked. Leaning close, he murmured soothing words in a soft, reassuring tone, his voice a balm to the boy's distressed soul. With each gentle stroke of his hand and whispered promise, Joe felt the tension begin to melt away from his Rafi’s trembling form. He rocked him back and forth, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of his own heart, a silent vow to always be there to chase away the shadows and dry the tears. Joe moved back your bed, and you reached out your arms, allowing Rafi to settle into your chest and Joe to cuddle back into your side. Rafi was a crybaby and wanted you to hold him 25/8; you wanted to break him out of that habit. Joe and you had been working on getting him to sleep through the night in his crib, it would only last two nights out of the week before Joe caved and dragged himself to Rafi’s crib, engulfing him in his arms. You didn’t bother to correct him; you could tell that something was off with him. You two didn’t speak much after your moment the shower; you didn’t try to get him to speak either.

A heavy knock on the door had woken Joe; he hissed in frustration, moving the walker out of the way as he stumped his toe against it. He looked back, seeing Rafi whining for him, his arm stretched as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed. Joe scooped him up, snatching your phone and checking the time—7:37 AM. He grunted as he moved to unlock the deadbolts and finally the door. The door swung open, revealing Peach. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Joe; quickly, she shook her head, trying to find the right words to say but couldn’t. Peach observed him, eyes squinted in fury and confusion. “She’s sleeping Peach.”

She called out your name, moving into the living room, her eyes falling on you as you lay in bed. Her head snapped to Joe, realizing that he was in his boxers. “What the fuck! What did you do to her?” Peach asked as she tried to grab Rafi. Joe stiffed her and backed away as she continued to reach for your son.

Joe held Rafi tightly in his arms as Peach had her outstretched arms and a determined frown on her face. Ignoring Joe’s protective grip, Peach reached for the child, her fingers brushing against Joe’s before clasping around the little one's hand. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of protectiveness welling up within him. He pulled back, his hand resting against Rafi’s back as he watched Peach’s face morph, her eyes narrowing before he turned her attention to you.

“Peach? What–What are you doing?” You shifted from the covers, you were in a grey crewneck, a B printed in brown and outlined in red. Your hair messing tied away from your face as you squinted to fully focus on her.

“No! No—what are you doing?” She hisses, stomping towards you, your finger jabbing into the air as she throws her hands dramatically.

“Peach, he was just—I saw Dominick. Since then, he has been here for me. Nothing… Nothing else has been going on.” You shouted over her rambles. Something in her face changed; she slammed her mouth shut, looking at you, taking in your words. She grabbed the back of her arm, holding it tighter to her person. Joe noticed the slight change in her demeanor at the mention of Dominick; he scared her.

“Did you–” You quickly shook her hand, stretching out your hands for Rafi; Joe quickly moved to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rafi crawled into your lap. Joe’s hands rested on top of yours; he pressed his lips against Rafi’s head before cuffing your chin. He rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, placing them on his clothes. He jiggled his phone before leaving out of your apartment, a silent single for you to call him when she leaves. “When did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. He just was here for me at the time and… I trust him.” Peach laughs, sitting on the bed.

“Trust him, absolutely not. You know he’s playing you just like he’s playing Beck!” You rolled your eyes, unsure of what to make of her accusations. I mean, they weren’t incorrect in their entirety. Joe had a fleeting romance with Beck and probably still does. “He’s using you. I lost Beck to him, and I am not going to lose you. In this stupid ideology where you think you need him! You don’t need him! I am here for you; call me if you are feeling scared; call me if you are feeling down!”

“I know” you mumbled, caressing Rafi. “I shouldn’t trust him” you confessed. “I really shouldn’t” a bitter laugh left your throat as you chocked on a sob that rose in your throat.

“He could be like Rafael! You are so blinded by love that you didn’t see it then, but I did, and now, I do.” Peach whispered, as she inched in Joe’s spot. Resting her head against your chest, her hands wrapping against your torso.

Joe stood outside the closed door, his fists clenched at his sides, he strained to hear the muffled voices from within. Anger simmered beneath his skin, fueled by the snippets of conversation that reached his ears. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veneer of his composure. He could hear her strained voice, a mixture with a Peach’s voice—a voice that grated on his nerves like sandpaper. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling with tension as he fought the urge to burst through the door and confront the source of his jealousy head-on. The temptation to intervene, to demand answers, pulsed through him like a steady drumbeat, drowning out reason and restraint. With every passing moment, his anger mounted, a raging inferno threatening to consume him whole. Yet, for now, he remained on the other side of the door, a silent witness to his own unraveling emotions. Something needed to happen, Peach was always in the way, the intricate dance of relationships that she always blocked. Stepping on his toes and stealing you away from him. Tangling you in her grasp, the same spell that Beck was under. She was a figure looming in the background, casting a shadow over any potential romance that Joe worked so hard to grow and nourish. Her presence was like a shield, deflecting any attempts at romantic advancement with a casual remark or a well-timed interruption.

He needed to kill her; her undoing was all the fault of her own.

Goodbye Peach Sallinger.

#imagines #imagine #request #requested #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg #peach salinger #you imagine

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