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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months

Text

MINE AND MINE ONLY.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Aemond has gotten you pregnant six months ago, and seeing him with his infant niece during dinner with his family sparks something inside of you only he can satisfy.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, face sitting, slight anal play, slight breeding kink, pregnant sex, slight lactation kink

WORDS: 4.9 K

NOTES: Sorry, I’m kinda in baby fever right now don’t ask me why. 😭 This also is my gift for hitting 1850 followers a few days ago, which means I’m finally where I’ve been before deleting my old blog. Thanks for everyone following me on this journey. 🫶🏻

The days between Christmas and New Years usually are meant for people to take some much-needed downtime from the stress of the past days or weeks – unless you are a Targaryen or married to one.

It’s the fourth year in a row you’re spending one, sometimes even two, days at the large Targaryen mansion with every member of their family present.

What started as an opportunity to celebrate the New Year early with her family four years ago, since Viserys and Alicent wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve on a yacht somewhere in the Sea of Dorne back then, has quickly turned into a tradition that no one could escape.

Not even the six-month pregnant you.

As an excuse to not travel to the family’s vacation home on Dragonstone, Aemond has begged for you to allow him to tell his mother that your back pain has gotten so bad you couldn’t sit in the car for four hours.

The fact that he didn’t fall to his knees while doing it was everything.

But you have told him no, seeing that your back pains have eased two weeks ago, and it is one of the rare occasions he gets to spend with his whole family, not just his mother’s side.

If he wants to or not.

“And how are you spending New Year’s?” you ask, lounging in the burgundy Lawson chair.

Helaena sits in the chair next to yours, fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass. Every now and then you spot her lilac eyes flickering to your protruding bump, accentuated by the tight slip dress you wear.

“This year we’re embracing a night in,” she answers, nursing her alcohol-free wine. “Cregan doesn’t want to leave the children with his parents, since Lyanna is still breastfeeding, and Edrick doesn’t want to go without his little sister.”

You nod along to her words, smiling softly at the mention of her sons‘ protectiveness, and glance past her to Aemond, Aegon and Cregan. The men are standing close to the fireplace, glasses of whiskey between their fingers. Normally, they would be tipsy by now – some more than others – if it wasn’t for the infant cradled in Cregan’s strong arms.

Helaena follows your line of sight, the turning of her head prompting you to look at her again.

“What are your plans?” she asks.

You pucker your lips slightly, looking down at the glass of water you‘ve rested on your belly before meeting her eyes.

“Aegon has invited us to a party in White Harbor, a formal dinner with some of his friends. We wanted to go, because the place is stunning and it’s overlooking the iconic harbor fireworks, but it’s such a long drive, and Aemond doesn’t want to risk anything by us taking the plane,” you sigh, “so, we’ll probably stay at home or just go out for dinner.”

Ever since you’ve handed him the gift box containing four identical, positive pregnancy tests, Aemond has taken over a protective aura and has found it incredibly difficult to keep his hands off of you.

It’s a miracle he was able to talk to his brother and brother-in-law for so long without checking in on you once.

But speak of the devil.

What you aren’t expecting when Aemond makes his way over to where you’re conversing with his sister, is the little infant in his arms. Her head rests against his shoulder, while one of his large hands supports it and neck, and the other supports her bottom.

He’s swaying her gently as he walks over, a proud smile on his lips as he can’t tear his eyes off of his niece, coming to stand next to Helaena’s chair. The sight makes your heart swell with love.

Cregan trails behind him, and your eyes briefly fall to the abandoned Aegon still standing at the fireplace and balancing their three glasses in his hands.

“Honey,” the Northener’s gruff voice rings out, “your mother said that Edrick’s made a mess. Could you change him while I clean up?” Still standing offset behind your husband, Cregan pats Aemond on the shoulder once. “Our girl’s in good hands, and Aemy here can already practice for what awaits him soon.”

Helaena raises her eyebrows, before snickering at her husband’s remark. She bows her head once, smiling at you, “excuse me, Y/N.”

“We’ll talk later,” you assure her.

She brushes her hand over your swollen belly once as she rises, Cregan’s hand on the small of her back urging her out of the living space.

Aemond carefully sinks into the chair, and changes the position of the sleeping infant so she’s cradled in his arms.

“What have you been up to?” he asks, finally moving his head to look at you.

You were wearing a knitted sweater over your dress when you two arrived a few hours earlier, but with hot flashes attacking you every now and then, you have long opted to slip out of it and hang the sweater over a chair.

And the outfit change clearly is only now noticed by him.

His lilac eyes flickered between yours and your full breasts, and you can literally see the gears turning in his head.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he states, full on staring at your breasts.

Fine, maybe you have also done it to tease him a bit.

A blush creeps onto his cheeks, running down his neck, and he slightly shifts in his seat, turning his gaze away as he clears his throat.

Pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from curling into a smile, you quickly shush the urge by taking a swig of your water. “Wasn’t keen on spending the evening unable to think of anything else than how sore and uncomfortable I feel,” you tease. “Are you complaining?”

Aemond raises one hand in defeat, “certainly not, just pointing it out.”

You teasingly reach and bring your index finger to his chin, tilting it up for his eyes to meet yours again. “Then you better stop staring, we're not the only ones here.”

You glance briefly at the gathered party around you, watching Alicent chat with Rhaenyra and her husband, while Aegon seems to be deep in a conversation with Daemon, no doubt talking about the latest match between the Casterly Rock Lions and the Oldtown Saints.

“Fair enough,” he answered with a low chuckle.

The soft coos of his niece catch your attention, and you lean forwards to gauge at the little bundle. She’s stirring lightly in her sleep, grimaces and smiles alike gracing her scrunched features. Aemond brushes her cheek with his knuckles in feather light touches, until her coos are interrupted, and wide, blue eyes stare up at him.

Lyanna smacks her lips slowly, bringing her small hand up to her mouth. “What is she doing?” Aemond whispers, not daring to pull his eyes away from her in case she starts to cry.

“She’s hungry,” you answer with a chuckle, grinning as you notice his helplessness.

It’s so brief, but you spot his eyes flickering towards your full breasts, and you have to stop yourself from hitting his shoulder. One wrong word.

“You know there are barely four months left until your life looks like this, too, right?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I do, but they have not yet told us about this at the prenatal class.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not your first niece, and she’s not even crying.”

The sigh of relief Aemond releases as he spots Helaena’s silver hair in the far distance has you shaking your head, bringing your index finger up to your smiling lips.

“How did you three get on?” Helaena asks, noticing that her daughter is awake.

Your husband rises to his feet, and hands his niece over to her. “Easy, she’s just woken up and seems really hungry,” he notes, as if he has figured it out all by himself. “And how did you fare?”

Helaena releases a dry chuckle, brushing her free hand up and down Aemond’s biceps. “I’ll tell you another time, don’t want to scare you.“ She briefly glances over at you. “Just know that Creg has to bathe him right now, because the wet wipes were useless.”

The grimace on Aemond’s face at his sister’s words has you choking on a laugh.

Lyanna starts to whine and wiggle in her mother’s grasp, getting her attention. “Sorry again, it’s feeding time, obviously,” she states, muttering the last word under her breath, and shoots you an apologetic gaze before scurrying off.

You hold out a hand, and knowing what it means, Aemond takes it to help you up from the chair.

His heart melts at the sight of you before him, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you against his side as he brushes his hand over the gentle swell of your belly in tender affection. There were shy kicks meeting his hand, making him grin.

You return the embrace, and lean yourself against his frame, your head resting on his chest. “It’s different when it’s your own child, you know,” you say, the small glimmer of a smile blessing your features.

His head dips forwards, and he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling the words against your skin, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

—

Aemond has his arm slung around your waist as everyone has gathered in the vast living space to watch the children perform a play they have practiced.

Alicent, ever the proud grandmother, clings to Viserys as they watch in awe what the children of Rhaenyra have been up to. An oblivious Edrick appears in the middle of it all, but before Cregan can scoop him up, the little Viserys has taken his hands to include him in their mischief.

“Have I already told you how good you look today?” Aemond whispers, his head dipping forwards so his lips are level with your ear. He rubs your bump gently, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes.

You shiver from his touch, your body tingling from the attention your husband gives you. “You’re not paying attention,” you scold softly, nodding towards the children in the middle. A teenage Jacaerys, as well as Daemon’s daughters from his first marriage, stand before you, your view of the play slightly concealed.

“I can’t help myself,” he whispers huskily, “you’re just too distracting, Mommy.” A smirk tugs on his lips as the name leaves them, and the sight is only topped by him leaning in to brush his lips over your ear, before they press to the sensitive skin behind it. The very spot that always makes you putty in his hands, and with your hormones in full swing, it does a little more than just melt you.

“Aemond,” you whisper, though he can also hear the trace of a moan in it, “easy.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and the ring of his baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine, “we should go to bed early tonight.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his words. It’s his subtle way to ask for something without directly asking, though you know exactly what he means. You lean into him, pressing yourself against his side.

Biting the tip of your tongue, it was impossible for you to stop your lips from pulling into a mischievous smirk.

“Do you think your mother will notice if we leave now?” you ask, innocently.

You’re greeted with a wide grin when your eyes meet Aemond’s, and the arm he has wrapped around you tightens just more, keeping you against his frame.

His lips brush your ear again, trailing down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “If she does, she can tell me later,” he raps into your ear, “besides, we wouldn‘t be gone for too long, sweetheart. Just long enough for a little… alone time. Who could blame us for wanting to savor the last weeks where it’s only the two of us, mh?”

Aemond looks around one last time, noticing how everyone around you is mostly focused on the children’s show.

Bringing his hand to the small of your back, he gently guides you through the crowd of his relatives, before you’re on the way to his childhood bedroom.

It’s furnished in a minimalistic style, making it obvious that Alicent has spent some time decluttering her children’s rooms to make them more presentable for whenever guests stay over. The room basically is Aemond’s, and the rest belongs to Alicent.

Walking in behind you, he locks the door. You look around briefly before his firm chest is flush against your back with his arms around your waist, resting on your bump. He presses his lips to the curve of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, and a shuddered breath to escape your throat.

The feeling of his hard, clothed cock against the curve of your ass drives you to insanity, making you eager for more. He grinds against you as his fingers travel over your curves, and greedily fist the fabric of your dress.

“Let me help you undress, Mama,” he rasps against your skin, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

When he sinks to his knees behind you, you whimper quietly, immediately missing the heat of his breath and lips on your body.

“Aemond,” you breathe, looking down at him as he pushes your dress up.

The dumbfounded look that crosses his features with the skirt of your dress rucked up just shy beneath your bump has you chuckling, realization settling in.

“You went commando?”

Biting your bottom lip, you can basically see his excitement building, the bulge in the front of his slacks quite obvious despite him kneeling. “I was feeling… adventurous today,” you hum, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

He can’t help but to grin at your comment, and, on his way up, Aemond starts to press several kisses to the outside of your thigh, his fingers following in their trail.

Standing to full height again, looming over you, he keeps his hand beneath your bump, his fingers caressing your pubic mound.

You squeeze your thighs together in a desperate attempt to soothe the aching at the apex of them, since his fingers aren’t touching you where you need them most. An anticipating moan slips past your lips, a shiver shaking your core.

“I hope you’re prepared for me to be just as adventurous,” he hums, “... and thorough.”

His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress, tugging them off your shoulders to push the elastic fabric down your curves and onto the ground. It’s pooling around your ankles in a white puddle, leaving you completely bare to him with just a few touches.

You shudder under his intense gaze, practically devouring you with just his lilac eyes, and try to break the tension by pulling him in for a kiss.

You turn around mid-kiss, your protruding belly a barrier between your bodies. Before your hands can entangle into his strands, Aemond catches them and intertwines your fingers. He creates a small distance between your bodies, taking a few steps back and pulling you with him.

His steps are deliberately slow, careful, and you’re encouraged to climb his lap as he sits down at the edge of the bed. Both his feet are firmly planted on the ground, supporting your swollen body.

He groans as you trap him between your legs, his hands roaming your curves almost immediately. The knowledge that he was the one responsible for the changes of your body, and that everybody else knew that as well, does something to him, making him all the more hungry for you.

It was even more addicting to see you sit astride him like a goddess, ready to claim what was yours already anyways. Him.

Feeling his clothed member throb beneath you, the urge to grind above him is as inviting as never, and you’re more than ready to give into the urge. Your wetness soaks his slacks, and the groan Aemond releases at the friction has you whimpering with him.

Your lips meet for a fervent kiss, and while your hands rest on his shoulders, his are eager to explore the swell of your belly. His tongue finds its way past your lips, swirling around yours in a way that turns the kiss into all teeth and tongue.

Dragging your teeth over his kiss swollen bottom lip, he tilts his head upwards and nudges the tip of his nose against yours. You lick over his lips once, but when you lean in to connect your lips again, Aemond stops you with his hand around your throat.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rasps, his voice husky.

You haven’t sat on his face in weeks, or rather ever since the round ligament pain kicked in and made even the simplest daily tasks difficult for you.

Your eyes widen. “But– I–”

“No, you’re not too heavy,” he interrupts, cocking one eyebrow at you.

There’s not even a chance for you to reject before he lies down and hooks his hands beneath your thighs, hoisting you up and pulling you towards his face. You sit on his chest, barely seeing his chiseled features from under your bump.

As the position you are in truly settles in your mind, a bright blush starts to cover the apples of your cheeks. His angelic looks don't help either, strands of silver hair splayed out around his head like a halo, and his piercing lilac eyes fixed on you and you only. “But you tell me when it gets too much, no?” you ask, coyly.

Aemond rubs his hands over your bare thighs in comfort, nodding. “Always.” Deep down you know it’s a lie, because he has told you on more than one occasion that he’d gladly leave the world suffocated by your delicious pussy, but you trust the feigned security he offers.

“No promises about how long I’ll last, though,” you tell him.

A gentle pat to your thigh is what has you eventually inching forwards until your knees are on either side of his head.

With your bump being quite protruding, you can’t even see him anymore, you only hear his groans and growls when you cautiously settle in the new position.

The attempt to slightly hover your pussy over his face is fruitless the moment your husband’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you down onto his face. Just his nose perfectly teasing your clit has you moaning out loudly already, even though he hasn’t even used his tongue yet.

And then it follows.

Aemond greedily laps at your entrance as his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place and playing you like a fiddle. It circles around your clenching hole, teasing it but never one dipping it inside.

You clench around nothing, and bring one hand to your bump while the other just rests above his hand on your hip, squeezing it. Chasing the friction and warmth of his tongue, you rock your hips back and forth as much as his grip allows, coaxing whimpers and mewls to leave your lips.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, the grip of your thighs around his face tightening. “I–I forgot how good you are at this.”

Seemingly keening at your praise, you’re almost disappointed when he pulls his hand off of yours to cup your ass cheeks, yanking you impossibly closer. The groans that vibrate against your pussy send shivers up your spine that make you lose yourself in the pleasure, not focusing on where his hands are.

At this point, Aemond was feasting at you like a man starved, all but devouring you with newfound vigor. His nose flicks against your clit with expert precision every time he tilts his head or you move your hips, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

His index finger comes into play, teasing your throbbing folds for a split second. His true intentions, however, only show the moment it starts to circle around your other hole.

“Fuck, Aemond, I-” you manage as he carefully dips his finger into your hole, the added stimulation almost immediately tightening the coil in your belly. A muffled groan of appreciation shakes your core as he feels your unused hole tighten around his finger.

You roll your hips against Aemond’s mouth on the race to completion, any thoughts of being too heavy for him long gone, and replaced by nothing else than raw need and desire.

It’s almost too much. Straddling the fine line between overwhelming and just the right amount. His nose rubs your clit, his lips lap hungrily at your swollen folds, and his index finger fills you pleasantly – he is redoubling his efforts.

You keep dragging your hips back and forth in rhythm with his movements, fucking his face on the brink of your release.

“Oh God, you-you’re so good– Aemond, I’m–I’m–” you ramble, breathy whimpers filling in between the words.

Hearing him slurp and groan beneath your trembling frame brings a blush to your face and stokes the fire in your belly, the sounds fanning through the room like your moans and whimpers.

When the coil finally snaps, you throw your head back in ecstasy and clamp your thighs around his head, hot, white pleasure licking its way up your spine. His name topples off your lips more than once, accompanied by desperate mewls and whines. He is relentless, licking you through your orgasm.

You don’t wait long enough for the aftershocks to fully subside, the overstimulation of his tongue dragging through your folds becoming too much, and cup your pregnant belly as you heave your frame off of his face, shifting backwards down his body.

“Fuck, I–I need you,” you all but beg, eagerly tugging on the collar of his black shirt.

Aemond seems to share your enthusiasm, and is quick to sit up again, meeting your lips for a deep kiss. Only when you cup his cheeks do you feel that they’re covered in your arousal, the taste of you on his tongue clouding your mind.

Your belly is between you again, but Aemond manages to swiftly undo the zipper in the front of his slacks nevertheless, and shoves them down just enough to free his aching cock.

“So desperate for my cock now, mh?” Aemond pants against your lips, a smug smirk tugging on the corners.

His hand wraps around his stiff member, fisting himself raw twice, thrice, before another pat served to your thigh encourages you to raise your hips. He aligns himself with your soaked entrance, and you feel his tip prodding gingerly at it.

As you sink down on him, your hands tightly gripping the collar of his shirt, you release a shuddered breath. Your husband, on the other hand, escapes a relieved groan, his head tipping back for a moment.

With your limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you bow your head forwards, lowering yourself on him until he is balls deep inside of you. “Mh, fuck, you didn’t even bother to take off your pants,” you taunt, “so desperate to be inside me.”

Aemond’s words die on his tongue as you start to sensually roll your hips over his, the added weight of the bump not allowing you to bounce up and down on him with the vigor you had used before your pregnancy.

But your husband doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes journeying into the back of his head at the sensation.

Moving his hands to grope and grasp at every inch of your body, they eventually settle on your full breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples between his nimble fingers while you unravel astride him. It prompts you to arch your back, all but shoving your breasts into his face.

“So fucking good,” he grunts, embracing it and wrapping his lips around your pert nipple while his arms snake around your body.

He licks and sucks at your little bud like he has done with your pussy before, and, just judging by the smacking and humming sounds he makes, it’s possible there ooze a few droplets of milk out of it.

Aemond places his feet firmly on the ground, and starts to buck his hips up into yours, seemingly impatient for his own release as he meets the sensual rolls of your hips and bullies the spongy spot inside of you with more determination.

Loud, wet sounds from where your bodies meet echo off the walls, indistinct to you with all you can focus on being his lips at your heavy breasts, and his cock deep inside of you.

You bite your bottom lip and stop the rolling of your hips, making it evident that you were close to your orgasm. The tingling at the base of your spine makes it impossible to move any further and you rely on him to take over.

Aemond pulls back and watches you gleefully as the force of his thrusts makes your body squirm and jerk, eagerly anticipating you to topple over the edge for the second time.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock already?” he asks, almost mockingly.

You frantically nod, breathing a yes.

His hands come to your hips, and with his fingers digging into your flesh, he drags your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against the hem of his shirt with each movement. You’re not able to gasp more than yeses and pleases, clenching tightly around him.

The intensity of his thrusts increases while you have stopped moving, toes curling as the taut string inside of you snaps without a warning and white stars cloud your vision.

“Mh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, clawing at his shoulders as you ride out your high, grinding and rolling your hips against his. Your walls clamp around him like a vice, and he chokes on a husky groan. “Oh God, I love you.“

And even though your orgasm subsides slowly, Aemond refuses to slow down, keeping his heedless pace and pursuing his own completion.

He has his lips around your other nipple by now, sucking and nibbling on it, the vibrations of his groans coursing through your veins. “Daddy, mh, cum for me, please,” you whine, desperate for his cum.

Your body, however, contradicts your words and moans, your thighs squeezing his in a desperate attempt to stop him from pounding into your overstimulated pussy – but to no avail.

“God, please.”

His pace is as reckless and merciless as before, his cock all but forcing its way in and out of your quivering walls as he doesn’t listen to your desperate pleas.

Pulling back from your nipple with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connects the dark areola and his swollen lips as he gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes. “Hush now, Mommy,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss you. The nickname coaxes a smug smirk on his lips. “Taking me so well, such a good girl for Daddy.” With just his praise, a warmth overtakes your body that drowns out the burning, your chest swelling.

You sling your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair in a way that is destined to ruin the little updo he had put it in this morning.

“Mh, fuck, I’m gonna–” his words are cut off with a stutter of his hips, and he feels his throbbing cock spill deep inside of you.

You ride him through his high with lazy rolls of your hips, biting through the overstimulation, and clench and unclench around him as you milk him for every drop of his seed.

If he hadn’t gotten you pregnant already, he surely would have knocked you up after this.

Aemond languidly fucks up into you now as the last spurts of his warm release fill you to the brim, grunting and groaning until the euphoria fades.

He collapses on the bed, a blissed out expression on his face, and reaches to trace his fingers over the swell of your bump up to the curve of your breasts. Rolling the darkened buds between them, he smirks as he watches you squirm, his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“You know,” he starts, folding one arm behind his head. His voice is softer than before, but has a teasing edge to it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew by now what we’ve been up to.”

You laugh breathlessly and plant your hands on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over it. “But at least they don’t have to worry about you getting me pregnant by accident,” you tease.

“True enough,” he chuckles softly, “Fuck, I’m–I just can’t help myself. Seeing your body swell just because of my seed fucking does something to me.”

His words make you blush, and you appreciatively run your hands over your bump.

You lean forwards and cup his face, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He smirks against your mouth, and subconsciously bucks his hips into yours as he feels you clench around him.

With a groan rumbling in his chest, he pulls back. Something dark flickers in his eyes, his intentions evident when he speaks again.

“Once our boy’s born, I’ll make quick work of making you a mother of two.”

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reiding-writing · 2 months

Note

Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?

BACKUP [ONESHOT]

/ˈbækˌʌp/

some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!

a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭

main masterlist!!

The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.

Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”

“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.

You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?

You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”

The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”

“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,” The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.

“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.

“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.

“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.

“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”

“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.

“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”

You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.

You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”

You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”

“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”

“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.

“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.

“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.

“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”

“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.

“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.

“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”

Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”

Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.

You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.

Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.

He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.

Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.

“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.

You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.

“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”

“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”

“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.

“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”

You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.

“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.

You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.

“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.

“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.

��You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”

“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.

“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.

“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”

You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.

“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.

Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.

It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.

You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.

It was a perfectly Spencer move.

“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.

“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.

“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.

He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.

"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.

The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.

"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.

Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.

Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.

With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”

“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.

“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.

“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.

“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.

Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"

The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"

“You’re sure?”

The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”

“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”

“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.

“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.

He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”

“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.

“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

864 notes · View notes

revasserium · 3 months

Note

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

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voxmortuus · 10 months

Text

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.

Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.

"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.

"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.

"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.

His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.

"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.

"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.

His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."

"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.

"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.

"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.

Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.

After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.

Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.

He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.

After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.

The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.

You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.

"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.

"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.

"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.

His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.

"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.

"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.

"Alexei, no." You state firmly.

He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.

Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.

His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.

You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?

"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.

"We're going someplace secluded." He states.

"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.

"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.

You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.

By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.

"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.

HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."

"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.

He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.

Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.

"What is all of this about?" You ask.

"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.

"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.

"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.

"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.

"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.

"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.

"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.

"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.

"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."

You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"

Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.

Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.

"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.

Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.

"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.

He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.

"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?

"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.

Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.

"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.

Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.

"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.

"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.

You have no means of responding.

"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.

You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.

You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.

As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.

"Get off of me." you demand.

"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.

You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.

Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.

The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.

Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.

The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.

Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.

"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.

"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.

He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.

Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.

"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.

With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.

And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.

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jobean12-blog · 9 months

Text

Dark Desires

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x reader (Demon AU)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Now that he's finally found you he's never letting you go.

Author's Note: Another one for @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic's challenge! Thank you bunches to beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting such an awesome challenge!💕 And thank you bunches to my beautiful Ali @flordeamatista for reading this over and supporting me always!💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰The moodboard is by me and the photo prompt I was given is the very top picture. I've also included it on its own at the bottom so you can get a good look!

Warnings: some angst and tension but he's soft (maybe soft!d-a-r-kish if you squint) and definitely s-e-x-y.

In the deep, dark of the woods, where the moon’s pale light struggles to pierce through the dense canopy of trees, there is a thick silence other than the rapid thumping of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears.

Your feet catch on fallen twigs and branches, your skin scraped and torn but you don’t stop running.

Unseen eyes watch from the shadows, a presence so powerful you can feel it in your bones.

You’re being hunted.

Instinct fuels your escape but it’s futile as the forest seems to shift around you, pathways twisting and turning in a disorienting dance.

As you stumble over the ground and fall to your knees you suck in a deep breath, the whisper of wind carrying strange murmurs in a language you don’t understand.

Suddenly, you feel a cool breath at your neck, your hairs standing on end and goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You turn with wide, fear filled eyes but there’s nothing but the darkness of the woods pressing ever closer.

You stand on shaky legs and step carefully toward a large tree, pressing your back to the thick bark and searching for the source of the palpable force.

A tall and broad figure emerges from the shadows, it’s silhouette only something you’ve seen in books and as it moves closer, steps measured and deliberate, you can start to see the outline of huge wings.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will the image away, digging your fingertips into the tree.

The voice, when it speaks, is a whisper against the shell of your ear, powerful in it’s seduction and dangerous in it’s temptation.

A slow and deeply satisfied smile frames sharp teeth and his breath quickens when he inhales at the soft skin of your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “My perfect Angel.”

Your eyes are still closed tightly as a single tear rolls down your cheek. He lifts his thumb to tenderly brush it away.

“Open your eyes,” he says softly.

Unable to resist you do as he says.

“There,” he says, holding his saccharine smile. “Was that so hard.”

Your lips tremble as you try to find the words to speak. His thumb, still pressed to your skin, moves lower, tracing the outline of your mouth until he lightly presses against it, parting your lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” he coos, spreading expansive wings the color of twilight until you’re surrounded only by his presence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He tilts his head invitingly and holds your gaze, the horns that crown his head, twisting upward with artistic grace, glinting in the moonlight.

Your lips part further as something moves behind him, long and sinewy but before you can decipher what it is it disappears from sight.

“Wh…who are you?” you manage to ask as you finally let your eyes wander over the rest of his features.

He inches closer, his nearness creating a complex blend of emotions and sensations, blurring the lines between fear and desire in a way you could never have imagined.

His blue eyes are mesmerizing, their intensity both powerful and imposing but yet softened by an unyielding desire. Long but strong fingers continue to ghost over your face, his touch igniting a fire under your skin that spreads through your veins.

“James. You can call me James.”

You gasp out his name when you feel something slide along your calf. It’s touch is gentle despite the power you feel and as it explores the contours of your skin with reverent curiosity you become aware of what it is.

Each caress of his tail leaves a lingering trace of tingling sensations, awakening a trail of longing that seems to coil around your very being. He slides it between your breasts, lightly tracing the curve of your neck before he loosely wraps it around the delicate column.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His dark hairs falls forward, brushing your cheek as his soft lips caress your ear and his voice, like velvet, whispers promises that sink deep into the recesses of your desires.

“Everything Angel. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @late-to-the-party-81 @sebstanwhore @lookiamtrying @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @kmc1989 @littleseasiren

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #demon!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #demon au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #pup&kisasaestheticchallenge

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mochinomnoms · 2 months

Note

Hellooo

Congrats on your 1K!!!🎉🎉🎉

I discovered you blog recently and I am HOOKED, your writing is so tasty and fluid that I just keep going ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

I Hope you dont get too tired with requests, take breaks and drink water!!!

Ok for the actual ask, may I have a dialogue 19 with Eyedress, and if it were suggestive it would be perfect

Preferably Ruggie💞 you can choose the other 2 (If you even want to)

ruggie bucchi x gn!reader [tags] — suggestive, tiny bit of hurt but not really [wc} - 1, 025 prompt 19 “I try to find a reason to pull us apart"” song: Kiss Me Like It’s the First Time (Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”) note - Ruggie canonically calls you a puppy. take that with what you will. francesca (1k event)

“Kiss me like it's the last time/ You'll fall in love / I always want your love”

Ruggie knows that compared to everyone else on campus, he was the bottom of the barrel. He wasn’t a prince, an heir to a fortune, or even from a well-off family. Sure, his Grandma was a wonderful lady, maybe a bit strict growing up, but besides her and their home, Ruggie didn’t have much to offer. Maybe if you weren’t in such a bad spot, if you had a good family here, if you hadn’t been plucked from your world with nothing but the clothes on your back, he’d be happy to call you his own.

But he can’t. How can he when you have people willing to drop thousands of thaumarks on you like it’s nothing. Literally! He was listening to Kalim run his mouth as he talked about renovating Ramshackle to your preference.

“Oh! And we can get you quartz countertops! What kind of colors do you like, I can have it made to your favorite aesthetic! Ooh, what if we replaced all the appliances to match it? The kitchen back home has a gas stove built into the countertop, we can replace—”

“Uh, I’d need gas for that though, right?” You laughed, splayed across Ruggie as you two lay in your bed. Kalim was on video call with you, having gone back home for the weekend for some sort of event. You’d been complaining about one of your kitchen cabinets breaking and letting your few plates tumble out. Thank the Seven that they were plastic dishes.

Kalim being, well, Kalim, immediately went into a tangent about adding in a gas line to your dorm and adding this and that. Everyone was acutely aware that Kalim, as generous and kind as he was, was especially sweet on you. There were even some rumors that he had a crush on you, something that made Ruggie feel ill.

You just laughed off Kalim as he continued to whine about fixing up the dorm. You ended the call as you cheerfully told Kailm goodnight.

“Do whatever you want Kalim, I won’t complain about free renovations! Good night, say bye Rugs.”

“Hmm? Oh, bye Kalim.” Ruggie gave Kalim a small smile and wave, who returned it with a beaming grin.

After a few more words between you and Kalim, you finally ended the video call, tossing your phone to the night stand, and moving to straddle Ruggie’s hips.

“What’s wrong?”

Ruggie blinked up at you in confusion. “What?”

“What’s wrong? Your ears are flat, they only go flat when you’re upset.” Ruggie whimpered as you leaned down to flutter kisses down his throat, shuddering as you pressed your teeth against his Adam's apple.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? You jealous?”

“Mmh, no I’m just—aaaAAAaaaAhH!” Ruggie yelped as you dug your teeth into the nape of his neck, suckling until you were satisfied with the bruising red mark forming on his skin.

“Geez, give a guy a warning, won’t ya?” Ruggie let out a breathless chuckle, his chest rumbling as he purred from each kiss you pressed up your neck as you hovered over his lips. “You’re nothing but trouble, Puppy.”

“And yet, you love this trouble, don’t you?” The sound of your kissing, mixed with gasps and sighs from both of you echoed in the room.

“Now tell me,” Ruggie tried following your lips as you pulled away, but you kept him pinned to the bed. By now, you’d managed to throw his shirt across the room and traced your nails down Ruggie’s chest. “Why are you upset? Was it Kalim’s call? You know, he just likes to say hi sometimes.”

Ruggie pinned his ears flatter against his head, huffing as he looked to the side, though be traced his hands up and down your arms.

“Nothin’, it’s just that Kalim sure likes to spoil ya. You know?”

You hummed, waiting for him to keep going.

“I’m just saying, he’s really sweet on you. Maybe you should consider taking advantage and marrying the guy!” Ruggie laughed, though it sounded forced.

He stopped as you clicked your tongue, leaning back down to bite at his cheek.

“Hey! You know your teeth aren’t really sharp enough for that.” Ruggie chuckled as you stopped and pouted, looking up at him as you batted your eyelashes.

“Hmph, it’s like you just wanna get rid of me.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what it sounds like!” You argued, huffing into his neck as you pushed yourself against his chest and neck, like you were trying to mold yourself to him. “You always do this. If I didn’t want to be with you, I would’ve left already…”

Ruggie sighed, rubbing the skin between your shirt and bottoms with his thumbs. “I know, I know. I just think that you oughta take advantage. Kalim’s not the only one, and you’re all by yourself here! Get yourself a rich boyfriend, and you’re set for life!”

You suddenly grabbed the back of his head, pulling at his hair to make Ruggie expose his neck again. He whimpered at the rough touch, though his tail was wagging rapidly against the sheets.

“And why would I do that?” His hand slid under your shirt and up your spine. He gently scratched your back as you shuddered into his touch. “When I have such a lovely boyfriend?”

Lips molded against each other, teeth clashed, and hips rolled as Ruggie, once again, failed to push you away. Instead, as he slipped your shirt off and moved to give you your own love bites and hickeys, Ruggie moved to bring your bodies closer together. Ruggie let himself lose himself in you once again, and would continue to do so. Again and again, until he found another half-hearted excuse.

But for now?

You pulled away again, breathless and flushed. “I just want to spoil my hardworking hyena, won’t you let your Puppy do that?” The down right heady tone in your voice, in that low, soft whine, made him hot in all the right places. Ruggie nodded, giving you the okay to wreck him.

For now, he’ll indulge, shamelessly, in you. As long as you’ll continue to have him.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#mochi asks #francesca (1k event)#twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie x reader #suggestive #strawberry-pie-thoughts

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selfinsertmadness · 1 month

Note

i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end. After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.

#logan sargeant #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #x reader #logan sargeant x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #first fic in a long time #ls2 x reader #ls2

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ravencincaide · 3 months

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Summary: Having grown up together there were few lines you and Chuuya hadn’t crossed. But maybe that was a naive way of thinking OR the time your familiar banter was replaced with a ‘caring’ threat, which hid an almost carnal need.

Pairing: Best friends! Fem reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by sweetober prompt 21: Bathing

Warnings: Cursing & alcohol, nudity, banter, inappropriate behavior/ very light sexual content.

Enjoy?

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

You held back a smirk as you studied the glass of wine in your hand and purposefully twirled the red liquid an extra time to bring out more of its sweet notes. Satisfied that you aerated it enough, you finally raised it to your lips. Then; “ haven’t you heard of never entering a lady’s bathroom, especially when she’s taking a bath?” you asked, obviously faking anger. As if to hammer your point across you half-heartedly shifted the thick sea of bubbles over yourself. In reality neither shy nor bothered by being naked in front of him, but you did need to keep appearances if you intended to get away with your scolding.

This time it was Chuuya who rolled his eyes at you.“ I see no lady, just a goddamn brat who made me freeze in soaked, icy clothes while she leisured about in a hot bath sipping on wine” he snapped, stormy blue eyes narrowed dangerously at you.

Clearly, you did not get away with your scolding.

“ Hey! I said you can shower in the spare bathroom.” You defended yourself. Neither of you bothered to point out that said shower was shoe-sized, with broken tiles and barely any water pressure. Good enough for cleaning off blood and gore without dragging it everywhere, but that was about all it was good for.

Definitely far below a sophisticated creature like Chuuya.

“ Whatever, move over so I can have some space” Chuuya sighed as he began prying off the wet clothes which stuck to him like second skin. He managed to get his coat, hat and vest off in one go before the struggle began. After a few moments he let out a curse as his frozen fingers couldn’t quite get the buttons of his dress-shirt off.

“ You know it might go better if you take your drenched gloves off, right?” you suggested, earning yourself a dark glare.

“ A Lady should avert her eyes when a man is stripping” Chuuya’s voice was something between teasing and annoyed; typical banter that made up the majority of your conversations. Still he threw off his gloves to the side, clearly following your advice.

Unsurprisingly, stripping went much better for him after that.

“ Please, I've seen your micro penis already. There’s not much else to see” you waved your hand dismissively. Despite your words you leaned against the bathtub, your gaze on the wall as you took another large sip of wine. You were going to give him privacy; but only for the sake of your sanity.

“ We were children!” Chuuya growled as he finally wrestled out of the shirt. “ Anyway look at yourself, idiot”

“ I don’t have a penis, dumbass!” you scoffed.

“ No, thank fuck for that or you’d ruin it somehow with your idiocy; you’ve got any mans and womans dream- big boobs, and you still manage to make them look like deflated baloons!”

You gaped at him, eyes wide. “ How fucking dare you?!” you growled before you slapped your arm against the water, splashing him with warmth and bubbles. Effectively soaking his socks before he managed to move out of the way of the soap-water attack.

“ Hey stop that” Chuuya pointed a warning finger at you. “ These pants cost more than your yearly wages and they don’t do well with bath-water”

You rolled your eyes and slapped your arm down into the water once more, this time you made sure to drench at least one of the pant legs: “ Well what do they say? The uglier you are, the more expensive clothes you need to hide that?”

“ No one says that besides you, you dimwit,” Chuuya stated as he came over and flickered your forehead with a little too much force.

You wailed, dropping your head into your hand. You clutched it in pain; eyes tightly shut. You waited until the stars in your eyes subsided before you fixed him with a dark glare; “ Ow what the fuck? That hurt!”

By then Chuuya had slipped into the bathtub and leaned against the opposite side, one arm laid against the edge, the second one twirled the bottle in his hand, salvaging the fragrance for a moment. He deemed it satisfactory and flashed you the look.“ Hey, give me that!” Chuuya stretched his hand out towards you, clearly expecting you to hand over your wine glass. After all, he wasn’t a barbarian who’d drink straight from a wine bottle.

“ I’m still drinking from that glass, Hey–!” you called out as he yoinked the glass right out of your grasp, filled it up as he flashed you a grin as if to say ‘which glass? This one?’ before he took a sip from it. You noticed that his lips landed on the same spot you drank from- the place where the reminisce of your lipgloss stained the rim.

You could have sworn something shifted in his gaze as he stared at you; something which matched the soft pinkness of his cheeks. The pinkness which came from the heat of the bathroom and bathwater- right? You shook your head at your own pathetic thoughts. This was Chuuya of all people; of course he’d do something like that just to spite you. To get a rise out of you for his own amusement. The fact that you thought something else even for a second indicated that you must be more tipsy than you first thought. Especially if you even toyed with the idea that there may be a hidden meaning in his stare besides a threat of payback for his ruined pants.

You rolled your eyes then looked away from him, breaking eye contact first.

“Whatever, you’re still just a stupid jerk” You sighed before you turned your back to him and pressed yourself up against the corner of the bathtub. You rested your arms on the edge, and leaned your head on top of them. You closed your eyes, salvaging the warmth of the water against your skin and the natural lull in the conversation. With no wine, and no banter, just resting was the best way to prevent overthinking.

“ Oj don’t fall asleep on me; I’m not saving you if you drown out of your own stupidity” Chuuya said, as he was finally finished with your wine glass. You heard the gentle cling of it against the bathtub as he set it on the edge on his side instead of giving it back to you. Jerk.

You showed exactly what you thought of him by reaching up and flipping him the bird.

This earned you a heavy sigh; “ God you’re unbearable at times, you know that?” his voice sounded different in your ears, a tone you didn’t quite recognize. You shrugged it off, no doubt it was your drunken mind playing tricks on you again. Or maybe he was just trying to coax a reaction out of you which he could hold over your head for later teasing. You were not gonna fall for that old trick. Even as you heard the shift of water and sensed him come closer, you remained calm, relaxed, eyes firmly shut.

Until you felt his chest hit your back, his arms caged you on either side, hot breath in your ear. You froze at the proximity; was it his leg that brushed against yours beneath the surface of the water or..? If possible Chuuya came closer, his breath a hot whisper in your ear; “ You’re still so naive, leaving yourself all defenseless and vulnerable, letting a man into the bathtub with you; Don’t do it again- or next time things might not end so innocently.”

You gaped, then shook your head not believing what you just heard. “ W-What are you–?!” you spun around to face him but by then Chuuya had already stepped out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel around his waist and was half way out of the door. He did not spare you a second glance.

“ Chuu?” You called out carefully, still in shock.

Instead of answering, Chuuya took the last step out of the bathroom and closed the door firmly yet gently behind himself. He left you completely alone in the half cold bath waters. The action made you wonder if all that had actually happened, or if this was another one of those times when your drunk mind decided to play tricks on you, when it tempted you with something you knew would never be..

Authors note: Don't ask me what the hell this is and I'll not ask you why you're reading such questionable Chuuya content, deal? And for those of you wondering how the hell this could even begin to be "normal behaviour", mixed onsen is all I'm going to say..

#chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #sweetober #chuuya x you #Best friend Chuuya #bathing together #Chuuya fluff #bsd x reader #BSD fluff

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 8 months

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WEEWOO IM HERE FOR THE EVENT!! (also smth I noticed, you can't copy paste your moots @ from one post to another, bc they don't receive the notif;_; I checked my mentions for your @ and uh- nope)

ANYWAY "nights spent in" with Leona pls (or Ruggie or Kalim or Jack or Jamil 💀💀) I just want a lazy night with takeout and cuddles and looking at the city/town from the hotel or room balcony in peace but I also need this frigging degree-

Nights Spent In; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, so much fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; I came up with a whole meal for this and I want everything. All of the food mentioned is North Indian vegetarian food, except for Leona's. Best of luck with that degree, Soru!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were lounging on the sofa on the balcony, a light breeze coming off the waves helping cut most of the heat from the day as night slowly painted the sky in a deep navy. Honestly, you could fall asleep right here, since you were warm and very comfy. Count on the royal family of the Sunset Savannah to spare no expense, even when it came to their balcony furniture for the smallest of their vacation homes.

Speaking of the Kingscholars, Leona had said that he was going out to grab you both dinner, which would have shocked anyone else, but he put in the work when it came to you. You were the exception. Of course, though, he expected something in return, which was usually either using you as his pillow or giving him a kiss… or several until he was satisfied with how fast he could make your heart flutter. Smug bastard…

“Hmm, I went through all the trouble of gettin’ you food and here you are nearly passed out,” he sighed, having sneaked up on you. But he sighed, putting the food down.

Leona leisurely walked over to you before promptly laying on top of you and resting his chin on your shoulder, trapping you. He let out a long sigh and bumped his head against yours.

Taking the message, you started scratching behind his ears and hummed. “I thought I had to pay you back after we ate,” you mused.

He chuffed, but his tail was slowly waving back and forth in a relaxed manner, he was only putting on a show. “You can pay me now and then,” he grumbled, looking up at you and raising a brow expectantly.

You knew that face, it was the face that he made when he wanted a kiss but didn’t want to say it. “You can get the rest of it, but after we eat-” your stomach made a low rumble underscoring your statement. “Before I decide to eat you instead,” you joked, and poked him in the ribs to prompt him to get off you.

Leona rolled his eyes, but yielded, he wanted his damn kisses sooner rather than later. Plus the last time he had decided to lay on you and prevent you from getting food, you had indeed bit him. Even though you didn’t really leave a mark, it still stung a bit, and he would rather not get teased by the others if they found out it had happened again.

“What did you get by the way,” you asked. Whatever it was smelled divine. Your stomach gurgled even louder, sounding more akin to some beast demanding food.

Leona chuckled a bit at the commotion, but brought the food out. “Went to a small place, family run and owned,” and he brought out several containers of food. He looked at his order, “Malai kofta, raita, paratha, mattar paneer-”

You saw one other container and raised a brow.

“Rogan josh,” he answered, swiping the container away from you.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were more than happy at the food he had got, and knew that he left a hefty tip even though he would deny it. Not only had he made you, and your ravenous stomach’s, night, but also the restaurant owners’ as well.

Now content and full of food, the both of you laid in bed, your legs intertwined. “Thanks for getting dinner,” you hummed, feeling the sleepiness from earlier returning.

Leona turned his head to you, and rubbed circles on your hip, slowly. He was wearing the same expectant look again. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” But there was no smugness, Leona was full and just as tired as you, so he was more like a tired kitty looking for some love.

You shuffled over and placed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he let out a tired sigh, pupils dilating into round saucers. “I love you,” you placed another kiss on his lips before placing one on his scar and lingering there.

He bumped his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know… I love you too.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii @leonistic

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x gn reader #i brain rotted. all of these are making me brain rot dear gods #also north indian & punjabi food SLAPS; if you haven't had some you really need to try it; i need to make these #pspspspsp here leona simps pspspspspspsp #<- i'm calling you over like cats yes #also i like the hc that leona head bumps as a form of affection cuz that's what cats do; leona simps were robbed of him purring though #the overgrown house cat is growing on me and he's all smug about it too uGh #soft leona hours? more likely than you think #he deserves softness and fluff #you're getting this a bit earlier than expected [by a few hours] but i have some running around to do #soru!#is food a content warning???#cw food #<- oh apparently so

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tennessoui · 9 months

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kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful. I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other. Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing.

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3 so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin.

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

#asks #obikin #obikin fic recs #me: im gonna focus and write my fic #also me: jk here is 4k of fic recs #i hope you enjoy!! i actually spent like 2 nights on this lol #combing through my history #tried to also spotlight some writers i like a lot but dont really see recc'ed #also psa if you have a tumblr pls link it to it on your ao3 #for kit #my notes are so silly i am sorry #i don't have kit's opinion corner often #so i shoved all my opinions into 4k of nonsense fic review #me: i hope peoplee like my fic list :)#also me: posts at the weirdest times where most people are not online :)

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reallybigproblem · 11 months

Text

pairing: mark lee x afab!reader

warnings: established relationship, massage, heavy petting, grinding, nipple play, slight roleplay

wc: 0.7k

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

You started out with good intentions, honest!

When your boyfriend’s constantly working nonstop it’s normal to think of things to do to keep him going.

Encouraging little notes around the house, cute desserts, a full body massage.

Nice, normal things.

Ok, maybe you just want an excuse to feel him up but it’s not like Mark isn’t getting anything out of the deal.

He gets to relieve the tension that’s been building up in his muscles for weeks and you get to feel those muscles all oiled up under your fingertips.

This is just supposed to be a nice, normal massage.

But it’s Mark, he’s very vocal with his appreciation. Letting out a saccharine moan when you hands reach just the right spot on his defined back.

Once you’re satisfied with that area you pat his lower thigh, prompting him to roll over.

Thighs next, starting with the one closest to you near the edge of your bed. The extra baby oil probably isn’t necessary but you add it anyway before getting to work.

Rubbing upward with both hands, it’s almost like kneading a very muscular dough. Maybe your knuckles brush against Mark’s crotch a few times, but that’s not your fault, call it an occupational hazard.

“Your hands are getting a little low there, don’t you think?” Your boyfriend plays with you.

“Want me to stop?” Maybe when your hand makes contact this time it’s a little bit on purpose, palming him fully through his basketball shorts.

“No.” He grunts. “Keep going.”

So you do just that, straddling Mark slowly to get the best angle to do his chest of course. Very professional.

The leftover bits of oil drip down from your fingertips to those chiselled abs of his. Your hands follow suit, feeling from his toned stomach up to his chest.

And maybe you move your lower half as well. It’s only fair to help Mark release the tension down there, since he’s getting harder by the second.

Trying his best to not let another moan slip, he grits his teeth.

“If you keep on moving like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Good.” You bring your face down to his, lips almost touching before you decide to go for the sweet spot between his jaw and neck instead.

Your kisses get lower, all the way down his neck, through his pecs. Maybe your lips and a little bit of tongue brush past his nipples a few times, but from the way he twitches against your clothed pussy, he clearly likes it.

“Hope you don’t do this for all your customers.” He jokes.

“Nope, just you.” Sealing your promise with another kiss on Mark’s chest.

You lift away from him to remove your tank top, thankful to not be wearing anything underneath. Making sure to not take too much weight off your boyfriend, you grab the oil to pour maybe a bit too much on your chest.

“Fuck.” Mark’s eyes are trained on you as the liquid flows through the valley between your breasts. Lacing your fingers through his, you bring his hands up and rub them around the area, to make sure the oil’s been properly applied of course.

Pushing his hands back down on the bed you follow shortly after, looking him deep in the eyes as you move your chest up from his to drag down near his belly button.

“New technique I just thought of.” You whisper when close to his face after repeating the action a few times.

“You’re so creative.” He pants before moving up to kiss you properly, finally getting the chance to taste your lips.

Your legs are starting to feel more like jelly between the movement of his mouth and the way Mark ruts against you. He takes full advantage, wrapping an arm around your waist to flip you over so he can hover above.

“Thanks for the service.” Hooking both index fingers around your shorts and panties, he pulls them lower whilst placing small pecks on the now exposed skin. “I think it’s time you got your tip.”

“Just the tip?” You smirk, taking in the view.

Of course you were going to get a lot more than that, cause now it’s Mark’s turn to feel you inside and out.

#kpop smut #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

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tripleyeeet · 2 months

Text

PROUD

SUMMARY: Halsin can’t help but indulge a bit after a particularly long day.

PAIRING: Halsin & Original Female Character (Elyra belongs to @bloodlessbhaalbabe)

WORD COUNT: 2,164

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, oral sex (fem receiving), light choking, overstimulation.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Wrote this as part of a trade with Mystical! First time writing Halsin so hopefully he isn’t too out of character???

MASTERLIST

The mood is low. As everyone stumbles tiredly through the veil of the Last Light Inn, even Halsin can feel the ache. A throbbing touch of pain radiating through his spine, spreading across the upper portions of his back like a violent wave.

Stepping past Jaheria who welcomes them back, he can’t help but groan and reach around to try and soothe the spasms that have begun to erupt. Pushing his thumb into the knotted flesh he tries his best to alleviate the pressure to no avail, prompting a huff to escape his lips that the elven woman beside him all but frowns at.

“You sore?” she asks, staring with such deep concern that Halsin has to look away and force out a soft smile to deter her from worrying. Knowing that if she doesn’t she’ll simply forgo her own struggles to aid him in his.

“I’m fine, Elyra.”

“Excuse me, Elyra?” Narrowing her eyes, she leans forward, placing her hands defiantly on her hips as she surveys his frame. Picking apart every section of bruised skin covering aching bones until she’s satisfied with her research, prompting her to huff. “You never call me that.”

Even he can’t help but grin at that. Well aware that she’s right. It’s always dear or heart or love —terms of endearment he wishes to whisper against her flesh in the heat of the night but is unable to do so thanks to his own goals.

Goals, he can’t help but silently curse as she steps towards him, instinctively arching her back in that flirtatious manner as she presses a hand to his chest.

“You’re delirious, Halsin.”

“What, for calling you by your birth name?”

Her eyelashes flutter as she nods, and it’s at the moment he thinks he might be dying. The lack of air in his chest causing a newfound pain to spread at the same time his heart fails to keep up its usual rhythm. All while his mind does somersaults trying to find a way to avoid the temptation of her beautiful lips pulling into a wide grin.

“How about I help you out with a nice massage, huh? We could go back to my room, smoke a little bit and just hang out?”

Right off the bat, he knows he should decline. Given the lack of control he already has around her on a good day, it’s obvious that if he were to allow himself the opportunity to get that close, he’d certainly give in. Resulting in yet another distraction on his way to break the curse.

Not that he considers her to be a particularly bad distraction. In fact, despite his thoughts sometimes telling him that she’s no good for him, he knows that’s not the case. Elyra is in fact very good for him. A woman so perfect that, even though those same thoughts are currently telling him to say no and to bid her goodnight, his body merely accepts her offer with a small nod. Allowing the woman to excitedly grab his hand and pull him up the stairs with such gracious ease that by the time he’s lying on her bed, stomach first, everything thought he’s ever had is gone.

“Does transforming into all those creatures ever mess with your bones?”

Lifting his head to laugh, he then cranes his neck to see her face twisting with focus. Her eyes narrowing as the pressure of her hands glide around his back —her lips pursing once she hits a particularly rough spot.

“I suppose it does wear one down after a long day.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I mean, could you imagine having your entire skeletal system just magically shift into something else? Gods, that would be so painful.” She cringes at the thought before her eyes suddenly widen, prompting Halsin to laugh again. “Wait, I guess you do know, huh?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“No wonder your muscles are all fucked up right now,” she points out, digging her palm into a particularly rough spot that has him instinctively groaning. A low guttural noise that he knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about, yet in the moment it’s all he can focus on.

“Sorry, should’ve warned you about that one. You’re real tight in the shoulder area.”

Clearing his throat, he’s suddenly too overwhelmed to continue, causing his body to shift to the side; her hands reluctantly moving away when their eyes inevitably meet. Pausing as he allows his weight to rest against the base of his forearm, unable to further move due to the fact that he wants to be closer.

More than anything, he wants to feel those calloused hands of hers wrapped around him, toying with his hair or fingers —pressing into the grooves of his chest as they descent to far less innocent lands.

Lands he has to force himself to forget about as he reluctantly pushes upwards, feeling the heat of Elyra’s stare become too much.

“Thank you for the massage,” he tells her then. And although he has every intention of shuffling off the edge of the bed and leaving, all he ends up doing is readjusting his position. Allowing his legs to extend and accidentally knock against her knee as she too gets on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem tense, big boy.”

Almost immediately, both of them know what she means when she says it. However, Halsin being too focused, fails to comment. Instead, averting his gaze as thoughts of her circle through his mind, granting Elyra enough time to crawl towards him.

And unfortunately for Halsin, it’s a sight he can no longer ignore. As her chest is practically exposed in full thanks to the angle, the only thing he can think about is touching her. Grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap so that he can ravish her as thanks. Which is exactly what he does without even realizing it. His body and mind failing to connect until he feels their lips collide, prompting everything inside him to restart, realizing what he’s done.

He’s passed the threshold. Not only that, but he’s fully sprinted through the room too, winding up inside her bed with no desire of stopping once he feels her teeth snagging his bottom lip, playfully pulling the skin with a grin.

“Careful, my dear heart,” he warns her, but all she does is continue. Pushing him past the point of no return in the form of hands caressing his cheeks and a tongue that seamlessly slips through to touch his own.

Which prompts him to flip her onto her back. In one quick motion, causing her to wildly laugh and tug his hair, forcing him down to capture her lips. Neither one of them wasting time as he cages her against the mattress.

“See, I knew you were tense.”

Without warning, his hand glides down her side with careful precision. The pads of his fingers applying pressure to all her plushest parts before he inevitably lands on her inner thigh. “Seems you might be as well.”

Rolling her eyes, she gives his hair another tug, demanding more. “You haven’t even touched me yet, how would you know?”

He’s tempted to make fun of her then. To tell her that every waking moment he knows because she’s the most open person he’s ever met, but then he sees the way she’s looking at him. So desperately needy and tired of waiting. So completely set on what’s to come that all he can do is hum and pry his fingers from her thigh to push her skirt out of the way.

“Would you like me to touch you?”

And for once, she’s speechless. The words failing to exit her mouth as Halsin draws a long line across the fabric laid over her cunt. The edge of his knuckle pressing against her clothed clit, refusing to move until she nods her head. An action so simple, yet impactful that despite every part of his mind screaming at him to stop —to focus on what he came here to do instead of falling further into the loving palm of this beautiful woman— he refuses. Instead, guiding his hands to respectively brush her underwear to the side, feeling the heated flesh of her pleasure practically gush in his hands.

“More… please.”

Her voice is just as breathless as his lungs. As he runs his knuckles up and down her folds, gently burrowing the bones into her crevice, he can’t help but grin. Knowing that with just the touch of his hand, he’s somehow able to bring forth something new within her. Something needy and wild —a visceral wine escaping once he uncurls his hand, tentatively pushing a finger inside.

“Tense as ever, my dear heart,” he practically whispers, leaning down to kiss her face. Pressing his lips to her cheek, then her chin, stopping at the top edge of her neck to take a deep breath. “Why I can barely get a finger in without you clenching those walls of yours.”

In response, she twitches around him. Unable to deny his claims, he can feel her give in. The pulse of her cunt wetting his fingers. The way it practically sucks him in as he proceeds to slip another one in at the same time he nips her neck with his teeth.

“So smug, aren’t you?”

Suckling the wound, he grins against her before pulling back to look at his work. To see the warmth of her cheeks spread down to the base of her chest. The heat from his curious fingers eliciting more of a response than he intended to receive.

“Not smug. Proud.”

“Proud?” She lets out a laugh, bucking up her hips when he begins to slowly pump in and out, testing the waters further.

“Proud to call you mine for the evening,” he explains, his free hand rising to grip her chin so that he can brush a finger across her lower lip. “Also, proud to know that I can render you speechless with just a touch of my hand.”

“You should be pro—oh fuck.”

His thumb circles her clit as he chuckles, watching her head fall back. The red tone of her hair resembling a fiery halo sprawled out across the wrinkled bed sheets beneath them. “Sorry, were you saying something, my love?”

He can feel her defiance through the tenseness of her muscles. Both beneath and around his fingers. Every part of her threatens to retaliate until she feels his hand lace carefully around her throat, the pressure of his fingers stopping her in her tracks.

Which only spurs him on further. Feeling the submission she offers in response to one measly touch, it’s as if every thought he’s ever had about waiting is gone. The mere idea of it exiting his mind once he begins lowering himself down, staring at her curious eyes until they vanish behind the fabric of her skirt and all he sees is her cunt.

Swollen and dripping, it’s a sight that has him feeling ravenous. A hunger so foul stirring in his stomach that he fails to wait for permission, prompting him to practically rip the fabric from her hips and dive in.

And almost immediately, another groan slips out of him. The sound reverberating off her flesh in a way that has her bucking up again, taking back control. Forcing him to work that much harder as he grabs her hips, locking her in place. Prodding her folds with his eager tongue —playfully nipping her skin in between to tease and extend her pleasure.

He can tell she hates it. Or rather, hates the patience he’s thrust upon her as he builds her up only to stop and pull away, heavily breathing against her entrance as a way to further taunt her.

“You’re a —you’re a sick bastard, Halsin, whatever your last name is… I can’t remember right now.”

He chuckles against her clit before taking it in his mouth, suckling the flesh as he eventually pushes two fingers inside again, feeling her tense. Noticing the immediate build he’s once again provided when she begins to heavily breathe and lace her fingers in his hair, begging him not to stop. To please, never stop.

So, he doesn’t. Even when she’s shaking beneath him, every muscle in her body releasing the pleasure she desperately sought to gain from him, he continues. Brutalizing every part of her cunt with languid, pressurized licks and greedy fingers that pump and curl. His body providing whatever stimulations she requires and more until they’re both spent on the bed, heaving out breaths neither of them has enough energy to gain as he slowly crawls up to rest on her plush stomach, smiling at the way her eyes narrow in false annoyance.

“I’m almost mad at the fact that you’re good at that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s gonna make waiting for that cock of yours an absolute living hell. I can already tell.”

#proud #halsin fan fic #halsin smut #halsin x original female character #halsin x ofc #halsin x oc #summer writes

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deliverusfromevillll · 3 months

Text

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader]

❝ What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? ❞

warnings ⨾ blood, descriptions of gore, guns, gunshot wound, choking, swearing, arachnophobia (the irony), established prior connection, soft mammon, sexual content, unresolved sexual tension, resolved angst

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon." ❝ Bogan ❞ Australian slang meaning (in negative connotation) someone who's a bit of a nerd or geek, holds no dress sense and/or has poor social skills.

notes ⨾ I am very much not Australian so when I looked up slang and could not find ANY concrete definitions for anything: I was in major pain. Anyways quick thing because [F/n]'s lore might seem confusing. I created an entirely different race of "humanoid" dragons that acted as the knight/official guards for the Ars Goetia incase of extermination/assassination attempts. [F/n] retired from her position as knight for an unnamed Goetia. This entire chapter was originally 13K words but I felt as though the plot arc with the Goetia drifted way too far from the original point of this fic since it was so, so needlessly lore heavy for a reader insert and made this 100x more angsty like you have no idea. Especially since this is only meant to be two chapters. This chapter was cut down for your reading pleasure!

Chapter 2 smut hyperlink will be added when I release it Ɛ>

As always minors DNI.| 6.3K words

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is unique.

He was her boss, and she was his secretary.

Running the errands, info graphing, and scheduling his business appointments when due. But it wasn't so simple.

With his artificially friendly attitude in public, behind the scenes he was nothing but cynical— snarky and demanding. Hardly surprising for the king of greed.

[F/n] was no fan, she made it clear.

Despite the lethal glares and threats she managed to shoot a quip or a snark in return each time. It initially prompted a warning hiss or a growl, an insult or a threat.

Then he resorted to shredding through his confined costume to intimidate her one time after they both seriously got into it. Neither party was satisfied in not having the last word.

Despite however many threats were hurled nothing ever came about them.

[F/n] desired the experience the job gave her and Mammon found her too entertaining to simply let go.

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is undeniably unique.

But damn, there was no shying away from the fact [F/n] did her job exceptionally well. The best in all of Hell. And that's another one of the handful of reasons why he tolerated her.

"Y'er getting on my nerves lizard." Mammon seethes with a false smile.

He sulks leaning away, poisonous puff of green air seeping though his teeth.

[F/n] raises a brow at him, eye roll following. "I need you to work with me here, asshole." [F/n] adjusted herself, turning towards him.

"If you wanna reduce the immediate damage Asmodeus and his little lapdog made we need to start advertising the twins asap. What's bothering you right now?"

Mammon huffed. "The leftover Fizz merch— sales are declining incase ya' haven't seen mate. I'm losin' money."

[F/n] clicked her tongue.

"Whatever doesn't sell now we can resell in a few weeks as vintage or some other bullshit with a higher price tag. You have any idea how much these loser collectors will pay to get their hands on discontinued merchandise?"

That's all it took for Mammon to light up, snatching [F/n] with his top hands in excitement.

"Y'er a bloody GENIOUS!" He shakes her, dropping her instantaneously. "We could double —no— TRIPLE our profits thanks to these degenerates! Ahh I taught ya' so bloody well!"

Mammon splays his hands towards the imaginary dollar signs in the air, clapping eagerly.

"And that's why I love ya' doll!" He shouts with a hefty grin, giving her a final charmed glance as he turned to make way towards the awaiting camera crew. Robo-Fizzies chasing after him with lighting sticks and microphones.

[F/n] catches herself after his stare, the spines on her tail rattling flustered. Her posture eases before anyone else can see as she flicks her tail in response.

Damn did she hate whenever he said things like that.

It's almost as if he knew the effect he had on her, doing and saying things that would purposefully rile her up. [F/n] refused to acknowledge any part of it, counteractive to the very obvious blush on her completion.

Through the commotion, Mammon smiled charismatically in [F/n]'s direction as their eyes met again. This was going to be a long shoot.

"That went better than I expected." [F/n] mumbles. Mammon appearing in a green cloud next to her. Bells chiming happily.

"Why'dya say that? Doubted me?" He rung.

"Well for all the years I've known you— Accepting you got fucked is definitely not something you're known for... You're taking losing your star clown better than I thought."

Mammon chuckles in amusement.

"Star clown? I am the star clown. With or without him I'll still make a fuck ton o' money." He nudges her. "With y'er— uh, our ideas and my reinforcement I don't see any issue mate."

[F/n] looked very, very, unconvinced. Mammon thinks for a moment before shrugging.

"At the end of the day you are my most valuable asset after all."

"What a way to make a girl feel special Ammo." Her eyes roll.

Mammon only giggled for a moment, attention immediately stolen upon taking in a familiar scent.

The smell of coffee meets his nose as they walk before the café in his estate. It takes him no time to decide he's in the mood for another cup of coffee.

[F/n] could already tell by the expression on his face. However unconvinced about giving the bug even more caffeine after his last.

Mammon playfully puts on a puppy-eyed expression as he bends town to her level.

He shoves his face in front of hers, frowning, the green glow of his pupils becoming brighter. "C'mon doll, ya'd say no to my lil 'ol face?"

His smaller spider eyes make a show as he frowns with an exaggerated pointed lip.

She sighs, gently pushing his face away. "Enough with the eyes. I'll be right back... Not like you'd let me say no anyways asshole."

Like a cat that ate the canary, Mammon smiles triumphantly as he took a moment to get seated on one of the empty tables outside the shop.

He enjoys the smell of coffee beans while searching in her direction through the large glass windows. He watches her make some hand motions towards the menu.

Letting out a big yawn, he blinks blearily. He could use a nap after all this.

Exploiting his employees was hard work after all.

Mammon observes her pull out her wallet, swiping her card. His smile becomes gentler, enamored at the idea of her willingness to spend her own money on him.

He became increasingly aware the expression he wore, quickly clearing his throat to look more serious.

It takes the café worker a second to hand her the single cup of coffee alongside a paper bag. He waves her goodbye with a bold wink, [F/n] unable to hold her laugh.

Mammon gritted his teeth. He conditioned his employees not to unnecessarily pester him, or her, especially when they were out together. Seems like one of them hadn't learned this yet. He took a mental note.

He was about to get up from his seat until [F/n] audibly shut the door behind her with a small jingle. She takes a seat across from him as he leaned forward and snatched the drink from her hand.

"'Bout fuckin' time cunt." He grumbles.

Mammon takes a sip of the cold coffee, ignoring his irritation as the sweet contents hit his tongue.

Or at least he tried to, the sweetness of it tasting rather dull part in due to his thoughts.

"Was this made by that fuckin' bogan?" He wonders.

His hand tenses, squeezing the drink at his palm slightly.

"I got you this." [F/n] mumbled, scooting the bag towards him.

Mammon snaps his attention towards back towards her, pausing to glance between her then the baggie before fishing through it. He pulls out a small box, opening it to reveal a cream colored pastry.

It takes him a moment to collect his thought.

Confused, he asks, "Why the cake, doll? Ya' know all I wanted was my coffee."

"You were feeling like shit earlier." She puts it simply.

Mammon shifted from the cake to her in his peripheral vision.

She was worried about him. Had him in her mind. Considerate about how he felt, albeit she wouldn't admit it out loud.

He couldn't help but grow a fat smile, genuine smile, as he scoots closer towards her.

"I'm starting to think ya' actually care about me, love." [F/n]'s eyes widen for a second.

She looks away from him, scoffing.

"Don't overthink it. I don't want to deal with you when you're in a mood."

Mammon takes a small bite, savoring the even sweeter taste. Humming with delight, he takes another portion of it with the plastic spoon, leaning forward to bring it to her mouth.

[F/n] glances between the cake and Mammon, who's unashamedly eagerly watching her.

"I-I don't—"

"Ahh don't fuckin' be like that mate. It's good, try it!"

The dragon takes a bite, flushed, as she ate the piece in silent agreement. Her tail sticking to her leg somewhat embarrassed.

He was right, the pastry was fluffy and flavorful. Not that she expected any different, that was the reason why she bought it for him. She would've never anticipated this however.

Another spoonful reaches her lips, she accepts it without complaint this time. Expression easing. Her tail wags behind her in satisfaction.

Mammon carefully scoops more, bringing it to her face once again.

[F/n] quickly swallows the bit already in her mouth, shaking her head this time.

"I bought it for you, I'm eating more of it than you are. You're being a little bit too charitable."

"Yeah but who's to say I'm not getting anythin' out of feeding ya', love?" He dotes.

[F/n] felt the tips of her ears warm, tail flicking.

Mammon soaks in her flush, turning to take another sip of his coffee. His eyes follow the direction of his lips for a glance before returning at her image.

He freezes for a moment, brows furrowing. Mammon checks the cup again to ensure he saw it correctly. [F/n] immediately notices his expression drop and leans over to see the source.

A phone number was written just under her name with a heart.

"Aw how cute!"

Mammon gags. "Cute?!"

"Yeah, first time someone has done that for me. It's kinda sweet!" [F/n] reaches for the cup, Mammon hisses as he holds it further away.

"Doll, there's no bloody way you're actually interested in this cunt. He's some fuckin' nobody workin' below minimum wage!"

"Oh please, you sound jealous, he was really n—!"

Mammon immediately crushes the cup in his grip, indifferent feeling the coffee spill onto his glove and trickle to the table. He reaches over to grab [F/n]'s extended hand to move it away as he leans towards her features.

His face was centimeters away from hers, sharp breath tickling her features.

"I ain't the sharing type." Mammon growled.

The cup gets engulfed in a green cloud, vanishing as the smoke dissipated. [F/n] glared at the spider, brows furrowed in uncertainty.

He was acting like this again.

"Fucking hell, I didn't want any of your coffee. I just wanted to see the goddamn number."

Mammon blinks, head tilting. He mutters something under his breath as he stands, breaking eye contact.

She thought he was upset over sharing a drink? Far from it, but he wasn't going to clarify if that's the conclusion she came to.

Still holding onto her hand, he strings her up as he gets out of his seat.

"Better ya' don't. This cunt wouldn't even be able to take care of ya'." [F/n] rolls her eyes. Though it didn't go unnoticed, as Mammon grimaced.

"It's impossible to find anyone at all when you scare everyone off." She growls lowly.

"Don't fuckin' hiss at me doll. I'm savin' ya from the embarrassment."

"The embarrassment of what exactly?"

"Of goin' out with the lower class, hells y're considered a knight for the Goetia ain't ya'? Y're not gonna get anythin' worthwhile in some random mutt."

[F/n] swats her tail very irritably, yanking her wrist back forcefully.

A loud tear following in the process.

"I can be with whoever the fuck I want and feel like, I'm not some goddamn princess."

Mammon looks at his glove, seeing as the motion of her pull had tore through the material. It was a reminder of how sharp her scales were.

It wasn't deep enough to cut his actual skin. But the damage on his glove was done. A rush of anger at her defiance.

He sneers, looking between the café and her short figure. A cloud of green exits through his teeth as he grips her by the neck, lifting her effortlessly to his face.

[F/n] grabs his wrists, squeezing equally as hard, as her wings flutter behind her to give herself some leverage and room to breathe.

She looks genuinely shocked for a moment, though it only took a second for her to regain composure to glare at the sin with bared teeth. Scales began to form on her complexion.

Mammon stares deeply into her eyes with a menacing smile. His miniature eyes emitting a soft glow.

"REMEMBER Y'R PLACE BENEATH ME BEFORE I REMIND YA'."

He let's her go, watching as she wobbly lands on her feet.

I gust of wind hits his face as she flapped her wings to soften the fall. The scales that covered her face immediately erase as the tension breaks with a longer sharp inhale of air.

They had instantly gained the attention of everyone around them if they hadn't already, silence deafening.

[F/n] felt humiliated. Hurt. Used.

Defeated, for once.

"I don't fuckin' pay ya to run 'round with y'r bitch hormones. I hired ya' to serve me and me only."

[F/n] bites her lower lip, her claw reaching up to feel where his met her throat.

That was the first time he'd ever grabbed her like that. Sure he'd scream and threaten her before, even swung at her at times however each time he did so slow enough to miss.

He'd chuck random items in reach sometimes knowing she could just dodge or fly out of the way.

It never crossed further than that.

Now to be grabbed by the neck? That was new.

The trace of his hand lingered warningly as she tried to sooth over her bruised skin.

She looked up at him, tail tucked in between her legs.

He would only ever harm people he saw replaceable. His subordinates. The realization came crashing down on her incredibly hard.

He could've just as easily killed her in that moment, snapped her neck and that would've been it.

Did their history mean nothing to him?

What changed?

"Fuck you..." It came as a whisper.

Unsure of whether he heard that or not, he chose to ignore it either way in favor of her tail.

He pointed at it, releasing a laugh as if it was the most amusing thing he'd seen.

It felt nauseating. One moment he was warm: the next, cruel.

Despite all the time spent, she concluded he never saw her as anything further than another form of entertainment.

An animal he can poke and prod for a reaction. Even in her state of shock all he did was laugh. The sound echoed in her head.

A familiar tone rings, buzzing. And Mammon instantly snaps out of his laughter.

He fishes through his pocket to pick up his phone.

His alarm was going off.

"Ahh fuckin' bitch— meeting is about to start." He groans, recovering quickly.

"C'mere." He demands, forgiving the glare she shot at him as he pulled her arm so forcefully she knew she'd bruise.

Mammon teleports the two of them into his office.

The jiggles of coins chime as he lands into his web, [F/n] perched beside him.

Her eyes widen slightly, trying to adjust herself in a better position. She tugs on one of her wings stuck into the webbing with an irritated scowl. He quickly removed the damaged glove and snaps a new one in its place out of thin air.

Mammon, who's busy with a drumstick he seemingly pulled from nowhere, nonchalantly untangles her wing in a simple swipe.

He stops chewing for a second to give her a toothy smirk: [F/n] returning a huff.

"Oh come off it will ya', ya' bitch?"

"We need to talk."

Mammon, who doesn't give it any thought, takes another bite of his food.

"More bitchin'." He imagines.

"Some other time."

[F/n] looks away from him, curling her tail around her leg to try and provide some sort of self comfort. She felt disappointed.

Despite all the breakthroughs made in their partnership, he still treated her like an object. His object. Something he was free to do whatever he wanted to. Truth be told, it stung deeply.

It was the only thing she could think about lately.

There was no denying Mammon grew incredibly on her, she only wished he felt the same in return. Maybe then he wouldn't be so needlessly mean.

Was it something she did? Something she didn't do?

There was no point in even thinking about it, [F/n] didn't want to be embarrassed again. She refused.

Security open the doors of his office, and in come a small group of incubi.

The one leading the group takes a quick bow before the two, tipping his hat while smiling on his way up.

Both watch as they fill the room, trotting with some briefcases in hand. The thumps of their boots semi-absorbed into the carpet they walked on.

"What an honor to see Mammon and his little butterfly, even more so present our wonderful idea to." He starts, slowly pacing left and right.

"We all know about the massive, massive, slaughter that came of the drakon specie during the first war with heaven. Terrible thing really." He smirks.

[F/n] raises her brow, crossing her arms further.

"A bigger shame would be to allow the fun of them go." The incubus pulls out his phone to project a screen before them.

[F/n] and Mammon look less than impressed.

"I present to you the dragon dildo, made with real dragon scales! The synthetic crap can't compare to this." He chuckles, arms extended either way.

The incubi look impressed by their own work. "Dragon scales are the hardest material in all of hell. This thing would be fucking indestructible! It's every horny sinner's dream!"

Mammon yawns, waving a finger.

"And how exactly are ya' going to farm real scales? There's hardly a handful of drakons in all o' hell left mate n' the survivors are all considered royalty."

"Well my good sir, that's where we were hoping you would come in. Seeing as you already possess one of them. I'm sure the king of greed wouldn't mind parting with it in turn for a greater profit."

[F/n] leans out of her seat, seething at the disrespectful implication. "Are you stupid or suicidal?"

The incubus hands one of his partners the briefcase, who held it sideways.

"Oh but my dear, you are very valuable. Your title as knight is only a benefit you see. You can be a brand on its own with how infamous your status was."

He starts unclipping the handles of the case.

"My title was granted to me because of how efficient I was in fighting angels. You— I'd MOP the floor with you."

Mammon tugs her back onto his side. His expression doesn't say much, however, the hand planted around her thigh possessively said it all.

"Y're gonna die for wastin' my time." He snarls, grinning wildly.

Mammon snaps his fingers and in rushes his security of robot Fizzarollis.

[F/n] felt him squeeze her thigh as he presses her deeper into his side. Her initial anger melting as her heart beats faster in reaction. [F/n] stares up at him, his image burning into her mind.

Her hand rested on his chest— able to feel his warmth, his breathing, it felt too intimate.

She felt his heartbeat at her fingertips, beating a tad bit faster than usual.

Then, she remembered. She thought his claim over her was nothing more than superficial, for looks, all this to keep her obedient and lull her back into his claws until the next time she slightly agitated him.

She looks back at the group, frowning.

"Shame, really. I was hoping you'd cooperate for your sake." The incubi frowns.

He opens his briefcase, incubi's devilish smile doesn't go unnoticed.

[F/n], unable to say anything in time, connects two and two as a familiar glint reflects off the metal brandished.

Breaking out of Mammon's grasp, she straddles him and extends her wings— covering as much of him as she possibly could.

A glowing bullet hits [F/n] directly the bend of her wing, the jolt of pain sucking the wind out of her as she slips onto Mammon's stomach.

The incubi's angelic revolver smokes at the barrel.

Security tackles the gunman.

They struggle to get each of his henchmen into cuffs, but with increasing numbers it quickly becomes apparent the gunman along with his goons has no chance.

Mammon immediately moves to shield [F/n] with his body, placing her onto the web. They both look at wound, [F/n] hissing as she tries to stretch her injured wing.

"Fuck— A-Are ya' alright? I didn't think..."

"I'm fine Ammo, he just nailed my joint. That's it." She interrupted, groaning.

His face turns between her injury and her expression several times. He looked worried. His eyes glossed.

[F/n] frowns.

Electricity flies off of Mammon, turning to look at the commotion behind him. Panic quickly turns into rage as he bursts out of his confined costume with a deafening yell.

The room fills with green.

Sounds of screaming immediately follow.

Mammon smashes some of the incubi into the floor, completely crushed under his weight. He makes sure to smear them in, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he does so.

Those unfortunate enough not to cease on impact were left wailing in agony: taking a fistful of the carpet in a hopeless attempt to pull themselves away with a gaping hole going through their back to their stomach..

It was messy.

The blood from their bodies popped similarly to that of water-balloons. It was a gross, alleviating sight. [F/n] could take comfort knowing sinners like these wouldn't be able to come after her again.

After having his fun, Mammon darts his head towards the remaining incubus.

His mini spider eyes radiated a toxic green as he slinked over. The two robo-fizzies who had captured him meekly raised him towards Mammon: who instantly snatches the man and brings him towards his eye level.

"PLEASE N—"

"B̴͍͚̀E̴̯̘̊G̴͈͍͝ ̸̯̩̌F̸͖̗̈́Ò̸͉́Ṛ̶̪͆ ̶͓̑͒Y̷̥͌͂Ŏ̴̖̩̒U̷̲̳͆͌Ṙ̶̟̂ ̸̦͓͂L̶͍̺̈́Ḯ̸̬F̶̨͓͋̅E̵̩̦̋."

Before even giving him the chance, his please come strangled into whispers as Mammon squeezes him in his fist.

He exhales a large green cloud onto his pitiful expression as he attempts to gasp for air, coughing violently in response. A crack erupts.

Mammon drops him to the floor, watching as he contorted with a deafening scream. Observing him cry for a moment: he does the same as he dealt with the ones previously, popping him like an unwanted pimple.

His breathing labored, the high coming down upon realizing he was the last of the group.

Mammon raises one of his bloodied spider legs out of a fresh carcass, inspecting it, grumbling something under his breath.

The security group of robo-fizzies seem unsure on how to proceed, each of them timidly watching awaiting orders.

"The fuck are ya' looking at? Get this cleaned up NOW!" He roared.

The robots scrambled, tumbling over each other as they struggled to organize themselves.

Mammon slinks back towards [F/n], expression instantly softening.

She lets out a whine, yanking out the glowing particle as the pain of it courses through her back. "Gods fuck that hurt..." [F/n] bit her tongue, aimlessly tossing the bullet at the floor.

"Shit, let's go get ya' patched up beautiful." He mumbles, taking her carefully into his arms as if she'd shatter entirely at the slightest bump.

"Fucking— OW!"

"Ahh can ya' fuckin' hold still for a minute mate!?"

Mammon quickly wraps a thick webbing around her wing, using a splint to keep it straight in place.

[F/n] squirms, suppressing the acid-ball forming at her throat. Mammon makes his final wrap as he sticks the web onto itself, hands gently caressing her wing.

He sighs.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. The silence deafening as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He frowns, gently letting go of his work.

Moving to cup her cheek as he turns her expression towards him even gentler, afraid he would somehow shatter her.

"Why the face? What's the matter beautiful?"

There it was, again, the rapid beating of her heart over his artificial pet names.

"Nothing. Just... I can't fucking believe I got shot right in the elbow." She mumbles, sparing a glance at his handiwork on her wing.

"Normally my scales are able to tank angelic bullets... Maybe I'm becoming weak." [F/n] sighed.

"I, uh, well ya'know... That bullet would'a sent me to the bloody hospital. Cunt aimed for my head." Mammon swallows.

He drags a finger under the fabric of his neck, pulling on it momentarily.

"And honestly... I think y're the only bloody demon crazy enough who'd ever do anything like that for me."

He strokes the webbing gingerly, feeling the material brush against the rest of her scales. He paused.

Mammon tenses slightly as he rehearsed his next sentence in his mind dozens of times, feeling awkward as the very unfamiliar phrase leaves his tongue.

"So —uh— I appreciate ya' more than ya' think..."

It falls silent as her face hues.

Though it doesn't bother him remotely, continuing to massage around the bend of her wing.

If only he were consistently like this. Then it would make the signs so much more visible.

Visible he actually wanted her.

[F/n] swallows thickly, doing her best to calm the trot in her chest. She knew despite everything if she could go back in time she wouldn't change the outcome of it.

Even in the chaos of it all she cared too deeply about him to imagine him hurt. With that, the wave of knowing she completely lost to him finally came crashing down on her.

Their game of chess was finally concluded, he won, and that's why she needed to get out.

"Mammon we really need to talk."

Her wing pulls away from his petting, curling back into its usual space. He seemed disappointed as the warmth of her injured limb left his grasp.

"What about?"

Her lips quiver, the frown on her expression breaking through the poker face she tried to maintain. Her eyes water, tail curling.

She thinks of all of their mishaps together. To when she first agreed to work with him, their first banter, their first success together, how they progressively got more and more comfortable with each other.

She went from someone behind the scenes to being his only companion. He was a hothead, but so was she. But their differences felt too great: the hot and cold treatment was driving her crazy.

"We need to end our contract."

Mammon blinked. Frozen.

He slowly clenches his fists impossibly hard.

"Why? Was it because o' that fuckin' incubus? Y-Ya' watched me kill 'em. I promise next time I—"

"It's not that. None of that."

"Then what is it? Fuck changed?"

"Mammon as much as I love being here with you and working alongside you, I just can't be around you anymore."

It was obvious he didn't understand, his pause with unsure searching eyes sought to try and read the static expression she did her best to maintain.

"I'm sorry."

Mammon felt himself burn. He felt his insides ignite with such intense desperation with a feeling he didn't entirely recognize.

Even knowing her more basic tasks could be given to someone else to fill just as easily did nothing to reassure him.

Hells he didn't feel this lost when Fizz quit his position. He got over that so insanely fast. It was deeper than that.

This was the only person he remotely cared about in all of hell resigning.

The idea felt so unreal.

"I'm so sorry." [F/n] repeated.

The click of her boots echo as she walked towards the double doors of his bedroom. Like a whisper, she faded.

Mammon watches as her tail hovers just above the ground. Immediately noting how she didn't just drag it as she normally would. The low rattle it'd make was erased, as if she wanted to create the least bit of noise possible.

Why? Did he scare her?

Nonsense. She was the only one who wouldn't cave to his ridiculous disrespect despite his threats. And though it did get in his nerves initially, it grew on him and made everything in his life new again.

He enjoyed hearing her voice.

Hearing her talk about frivolous, nonsensical, shit. Enjoyed observing the smallest things about her.

Like the way she would hide the joy in her expression but unable to maintain the same façade in her eagerly wagging tail.

Or the way her wings would flutter for a second whenever she was blushing.

Or when she would get too excited her hair would pulse the color of her element. And how whenever she's extremely upset her clear complexion starts forming scales as if she were ready to morph.

Or how she sometimes has difficulty not tearing clothes due to the sharpness of her claws. She would always let out a loud groan and a few swears before deciding if it were salvageable.

He felt electricity course through his body. His eyelid twitching.

[F/n] hugged herself, shutting the door behind her as she power walked through his manor.

She used her sleeve to wipe away the tears before they could spill. Quietly whimpering to herself to alleviate the ache in her chest.

She doesn't get very far however, before snapping out of her emotions as a loud bang interrupts her.

[F/n] points her gaze backwards, watching the doors fly open while cracking at the force of his push.

"OUR CONVO AIN'T OVER!"

She backs up hesitantly as Mammon runs at her. The thumping of his soles grew louder, seemingly indifferent at the idea he may trample her.

Clouds of swamp green smoke exit through his teeth. He halts just before her, punching a hole through the wall next to them to release his rage. Chips of brick and dust recoil along with his fist.

"You— YA' THINK YA' CAN JUST JOG OFF?" He growled, leaning down as he stared at her.

"Whatever idea ya got in that pretty lil' head o' yours, toss it. I won't break our contract. You are MINE."

[F/n] sighed, eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head at him.

"You don't get it." Her disbelief erases as her head comes to point towards his.

She snaps her fingers and out manifests a golden sheet between them with both their signatures held within the bottom.

"It's written agreement in our contact that only requires the consent of one party to break it."

Mammon felt a drop of sweat come down his neck.

He froze. The pain grew.

And she was right, the section she was referring to glowed faintly among the rest of the text as she highlighted it. Demanifesting as she withdrew her hand.

"A rule you imposed since you were initially skeptical about my performance in your estate."

"I- I... Fuckin'..."

It goes silent.

The rush of anger evaporated from his body with the sparks. Feeling at a loss on what to say, Mammon swallows thickly as he blinks.

He reaches a hand to clutch the material over his chest, squeezing it.

His gaze eventually trails back to hers.

His mind returns to the thought of massive their height difference was. She was so small compared to him. It made his heart chirp. His hand comes up to erase the flustered look looming on his features.

Mammon recollects himself as best he can in a pathetic attempt. He brushes his hat shakily, the bells chiming as the material bounced back.

"So then tell me why—?"

[F/n] growls, pressing her claws into her palm.

"STOP!" She shouts at him, quickly wiping away at the corner of her eyes. "D-Don't make this needlessly complicated."

Again with the tears, only this time she couldn't prevent them.

Mammon frowned, reaching out to her. He wanted to console her, wipe away those tears. It pained him knowing he was the source.

The tip of his index finger brushed against her cheek unable to get far.

[F/n] swatted away his hand. And that hurt him.

"You fucking... g-goddamnit you fucking dumbass... Can't you see what's going on?" She hissed stomping a few steps away from him.

"I fell so hard for you, and it fucking blows because I can't just have you." She turned towards him.

[F/n] gestures to herself angrily through her cries. "Do you fucking get it now?! I'm in LOVE with you— that's why I need to get the hell away from you. I want to be something more to you but you'll only ever see me as your subordinate."

She shouted, adrenaline coursing through only heighted by her emotional outburst.

Mammon grabs her despite her struggling with his lower pair of hands, leaning over and forcing her to allow him to clean her face.

He absorbs her tears through the material of his upper pair of gloves with gentle strokes.

She grips his wrists with enough force that'd dislocate them if he were any other sinner. He felt her tremble against him.

How could he not notice her pain before?

How long ago did she start feeling this way?

There was a pool of regrets swimming in his chest and among them the biggest was not erasing her doubts sooner.

"What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? I'm smitten with ya' dollface."

"You're a king sin— hell you outed Asmodeus for dating someone beneath him, how am I any different from that? People would think you're a hypocrite."

"Ya' think I give a remote fuck about what these cunts think? I'm the richest fucker in all o' hell, I didn't get here caring about what some bitch thinks o' me. I don't really give a flying shit about Asmodeus fuckin' some circus imp."

[F/n] immediately becomes less resistant to his advance. [E/c] eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

She searched desperately for any indication he was lying.

Mammon cups her jawline.

"I dunno how ya' haven't realized how obsessed I am with ya'... Thought it was reaaal obvious: I mean for fuck's sake I don't wanna be anywhere without ya'. Everything I do is with you." Mammon sighed nervously.

He lifted her in her arms, bringing down his face to gently set his forehead onto hers.

He didn't entirely recognize it before, but now that the cat was out of the bag it was so painfully apparent.

Everything he did was by her, to her, and for her. He found himself more temperamental and bored in the situations he had to exist without her. The cogs in his head finally spun, blushing for a mere moment as he finally admitted it out loud.

"I'm obsessed with ya princess. I'm fuckin' crazy over you."

If her heart pounded any faster she was sure she'd pass out.

Her eyes glued to the tiny white slits in the sea of bright green within his eyes.

They both glance down at each other's lips then back at their gaze.

Immediately realizing what the other was doing, they both smash into each other desperately. Mammon felt a firework go off in his head. She was putty in his hands. A little butterfly caught in his web.

He growled.

[F/n] caresses his features, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks and pulling him closer.

A surge of electricity runs through his expression and tickles hers affectionately. It courses her hands and down her arms eagerly.

Mammon drags his bicolored tongue across her lips, pushing himself in at the slightest gap.

Their tongues dance and with no protest Mammon explores his new territory. Their teeth clatter, Mammon doing his best not to pierce her.

The taste of coffee and pastries still lingered strongly on his saliva. Their tongues dance, aching. It's as if they couldn't get close enough to one another, both feverishly pushing into each other craving every bit of contact the other could provide.

Pleased with her submission, he makes way back into his room.

Massaging her ass with his upper pair of hands and grabbing onto her heels with the other. [F/n] releases a muffled moan.

Mammon breaks the kiss first, glancing at the spirit trail that still connected them. He licks the drool from his lips, savoring their long overdue tension-breaker.

He steals a few more pecks before taking a seat on his bed, holding onto her. He brushed a strand of her [h/c] hair out of her face.

Mammon chuckled softly, enamored with the bright hue on her complexion: gaze hungry.

Mammon stares at her. Unmoving. As his breathing very audibly becomes heavier.

It takes him a painful few seconds to snap out of his own trance.

"As much as I wanna fold ya' in my bed and have ya' take care of my stiffy— y're injured and need to rest princess."

"Oh come the fuck on Ammo, I'm fine!" [F/n] pouts, huffing while trying to feel him up through his clothes.

She slinks downwards to attempt and grind against the growing tent underneath his layers of clothes to entice him.

Mammon with every bit of self control in his body, has none of it, interwinding her hands into his instead with force as he pulls her back up to steal another peck.

"I love y're excitement but I will hurt you."

"You're no fun."

"You'll fuckin' get what you want later... Needy whore."

He scoots closer into bed.

Mammon snaps his fingers. A puff of green surround both of them, clearing quickly to reveal he had changed them into their sleepwear. He smiles softly.

His blanket flies over them as he adjusts more comfortably, plopping [F/n] on his chest.

[F/n] coils into a ball, purring happily while nuzzling herself into the crook of his neck. She quickly settles. His hand reaches to pet her hair lovingly, listening patiently as her purring gradually became more distant overtime until she drifted off entirely.

Mammon sighed with satisfaction, captivated, only then closing his eyes. "Y're gonna stay mine forever."

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