#Upon seeing a pretty boy with a purse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

euphemiaamillais · 4 months

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trash magic - coriolanus snow

coriolanus snow has taken an interest in you, a pretty district 12 girl. however, when you get a little bit too mouthy with the peacekeeper, he reminds you of your place… which is on your knees

cw: 18+//dub-con//peacekeeper!coryo x district 12!reader//blowjobs//piv sex//semi-public sex//creampie//rough sex

the hob is bursting with the colourful music of the covey as miners and girls alike dance to their tunes. you are swaying a little, hand fisting the gingham material of your dress, standing far too close to the peacekeepers who are brooding over the benches at the back.

one of them has his eyes on you, icy gaze boring into your form as you move your hips ever so slightly. he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, if you’ve seen how the last two weekends, he’s watched you, and only you, instead of lucy gray. he’s looking for a new songbird, one that’s perhaps a little more tame than the one onstage.

you seem to be the perfect candidate.

pretty, with a sweet-face and plump lips. the very picture of innocence. except for the fact that right now, billy taupe has pulled you into a dance. coriolanus sees you laugh, a halcyon tone escaping those pretty lips of yours, and how you bat your eyelashes a little. it’s disgusting. that criminal, touching you, when you are his.

when the song ends, you and billy taupe speak a little more, and he watches as you brush your hand innocently against his arm. coriolanus feels his face burn red with rage, and his hands clench into fists.

billy taupe leaves you alone, and as the next song begins, you feel a pair of hands on your hips. you cry out, slapping them away, but you find he’s too strong; whoever’s groping at you.

‘hey! get your hands off of me before i take my knee and put it up you—’ you stop speaking as you come face to face with the blonde peacekeeper, the one who’s eyes have been following you for weeks now. your heart starts, but you attempt to swallow your fear.

‘careful, doll,’ he grins, perfect teeth drawn into a wolffish smile. ‘i don’t think you want to end up with the charge of threatening a peacekeeper.’

it takes everything in you not to scowl, and instead you force a nod, and attempt to slip away, an apologetic look upon your brow. but something deters you—your wrist is being clutched by his strong hands.

‘i’ve seen you, always hanging round billy taupe. he’s no good,’ he states, as if it’s an order you are obliged to follow. you don’t know why he cares, he doesn’t even know your name.

‘are you telling me off, mr peacekeeper, or are you jealous? ‘cus it sounds like the latter to me,’ you tease, deciding you can’t wear the mask of unaffected ness. the way he is practically commanding you makes you seethe with ire.

‘i could have you strung up for daring to speak to me like that,’ he clamps down on your wrist tighter, drawing you flush against his form. you can feel the outline of his holster pressing into your thigh; the steel cold to your skin. his hands are cold too; frigid, in spite of the heat swallowing the hob whole.

‘oh really? i’d like to see you try. can’t fool me with that face, pretty boy,’ you murmur, and coriolanus feels his free hand veer out as if he’s about to slap you, but he restrains himself, and remembers it will be more trouble if he hit you—peacekeepers had to maintain some sort of decorum, particularly with the ladies.

‘you really should know better than to talk back to a peacekeeper,’ he seethes, eyes burning with anger.

‘maybe i don’t know any better…’ you purse your lips, lashes fluttering like they did at billy taupe. coriolanus rolls his eyes, the way you’re so blatantly teasing him, egging him on. it’s almost as if you are looking for trouble.

‘what is it with you district girls, can’t seem to follow a damn order?’ he mutters, shaking his head.

‘oh, i can follow orders, but only if you tell me real nice,’ you smirk, corners of your lips curling up mischievously.

‘stop teasing, it makes you seem like a whore,’ he spat.

‘well, what if i was one? would you punish me for that? try me out yourself to determine if i was good enough?’ you brush a hand against his chest, causing him to flinch. he can’t deny how much he wants you, but to admit that here would be embarrassing, shameful even. that a boy from the capitol would want a district girl like you.

‘you…’ his voice trails off, mouth going dry at your abrupt comment.

‘what, cat got your tongue? not so tough now mr peacekeeper.’ you laugh in that pretty lilt of yours.

that infuriates him, and his hand balls up into a fist. god, if you weren’t so pretty he wouldn’t have hesitated to drive his fist into your skull. instead, he pulls you by the arm, out of the hob, ignoring the pretty brown eyes of lucy gray that followed him, a sad smile stretching upon her lips as sees saw him haul another girl away.

when you are outside, the balmy air kisses your cheeks. your thighs burn as he gropes your arm, and you can see lust brimming in his eyes, along with the ire only a peacekeeper held.

‘you really need to learn your lesson,’ he scolds, shoving you up against the wall outside the hob. your head spins a little, stars dancing across your eyes.

‘what, don’t talk back to a peacekeeper? i know that already. besides, wouldn’t have done it if i didn’t think you were so cute. now, when you search me, do you want to check under my clothes, just to be thorough?’

he slaps your cheek, watching as you flinch, but surprisingly blink away the tears before they can spill. you take it well, but don’t retaliate. the impact, and the show of his impressive prowess, makes you want him all the more.

coriolanus’ hands are roaming over your breasts, and he drives a knee between your thighs, keeping you pliant for him. he moves his hands down to your waist, feeling the flimsy fabric of your dress under his fingers. he wonders what you’d look like underneath, whether you’re as pretty as you look. he can see that your nipples were receptive to his touch; peeking through your dress. you are a slut, he reasons, because you’re not even wearing a bra.

‘you really shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,’ he tuts, grasping at your hips, pressing hard enough that you can feel bruises blooming in the skin.

‘why? you going to tell on me to your commander?’ you snicker, enjoying the way he’s growing more enraged.

your thighs burn a little as his touch softens again, one hand travelling to the hem of your skirt. he’s cold against your skin, and leans in to whisper your ear. his breath tickles, and you find a heavy breath escapes your lips.

‘no, but i do think you need to be taught a lesson,’ he murmurs, hand sliding up against your thigh.

if he hadn’t done it himself, you would’ve spread your legs for him. you can’t deny it, he’s so hot, and the way he’s so determined to maintain his authority—perhaps fuck you into obedience—only makes you want him all the more.

‘mhm,’ you sigh as his palm finds the apex of your thigh, teasingly rubbing the smooth expanse of skin.

‘you’re going to be a good girl, and take my cock,’ he says, pulling away from your ear to see your reaction.

your brows quirk up, as if you are surprised, but your lips reveal that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. as if you had been doing it all on purpose, riling him up so he’ll bury his cock in you.

he unzips his pants, grunting as your eyes settle on his bulge. even in his boxers, you can see how big he is, the outline making your mouth begin to fill with saliva and your palms tingle slightly.

‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asks, palming himself.

‘mhm,’ you nod, letting him use his other hand to shove you to the ground.

you frown, reealising there’s coal dust on the asphalt, but when it coats everything in twelve, you can’t really complain too much. coryo pulls down his boxers, and your cock meets his face. he must be eight inches, bigger than you’ve ever seen before (well, you’ve only ever been with one other man), the tip is red and leaking a little.

‘you’re gonna take me until i come, and you’re gonna swallow it all… then, maybe if you’ve learned your lesson, i’ll fuck you,’ he dictates, and you nod, a little drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth.

you give his head an exploratory lick, earning a groan from his lips, and use the flat of your tongue to swirl around and lick up the little droplets of precum on his tip.

‘so good,’ he moans, rooting his fingers in your curls.

being more inclined to meanness, he pushes himself past your lips, watching as you struggle to take all of him in. when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag, and he chuckles, gaze fixed on your watering eyes.

‘can’t—’ you mutter, unable to speak because he continues to push his cock against your throat.

fat tears roll down your face, and your cheeks burn red, partially with anger, and also because you’re so turned on. you want nothing more than to rub at your clit; it’s throbbing so hard that you have to clench your thighs together.

‘come on, you can take it, can’t you, bunny?’ he inquires, bucking his hips against your mouth.

you attempt to nod, quite bleary, but to you’re determined to please him. you lave your tongue up and down his veiny cock, attempting to fight your gag reflex, clenching your hands into fists because you’ve heard that helps.

‘i think i like you better like this, not so mouthy now… can’t talk back to me,’ he pushes your head down, groaning with delight as your saliva coats his shaft. ‘so fucking obedient now.’

you hum, enjoying the praise, albeit that it’s laced with insults too. you’re nothing to him, really. just another pretty district girl to take his cock, another whore to punish. he revels in the newfound power he can exert over the district citizens, that he can coax the girls into anything all because he’s the highest order and he must be obeyed.

he begins to rut against your throat, feeling himself close already. he doesn’t want to admit that you had gotten him so riled up, and tries to pretend that your tongue is just that good that he is about to come.

the way you gag around him is so pretty, his balls slap against your chin as you clench at his thighs. drool spills from your lips now, like you’re salivating over his cock. he don’t know how much more he can take. he slides himself out for a second, and coaxes you to go back to licking the tip.

you run your hands up and down one half of his shaft, while you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, admiring how good it feels. you can already begin to taste the beginnings of his load; it’s slightly salty but you’re eager to swallow it down. eager to do what the peacekeeper says, because really, you’d been teasing him so much on purpose.

‘fuck, gonna cum,’ coriolanus groans, pushing his cock back down your throat, pumping it back and forth a three times before he feels his balls tense up.

he spills a hot load down your throat, pressing his cock right against the back of your mouth to ensure that you swallow all of it down. when he slides out of your mouth, you take your time to diligently lick up all the cum that dropped down his shaft, and then gaze up at him, with wide, dumb eyes and stick your tongue out. you’ve licked all of his load up, and he groans in delight.

‘good girl,’ he muses, patting your head.

for a moment, he almost seems sweet. that’s until he’s forcing your mouth open again, and he leans down and spits right into it. you gag, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to force it down, the wet stuff not pleasant. you can taste the white liquor he’s downed, and you shudder slightly.

when he sees this indifference, he takes it as defiance, and uses this an excuse to slap you again. this time it stings, and you can’t force the tears away. he sneers, tired of the waterworks. you’re so pathetic, on your knees like this, pleading with him to not hurt you again because oh look, he’s drawn blood. a tiny sliver of it trickles down from your cheekbone. you’re whining over nothing.

‘stop fucking complaining!’ he yells, forcing you back up against the wall.

when you attempt to glance down, terrified of meeting his gaze, he yanks a fistful of your hair and makes sure you can see his icy eyes burning into yours. his lip is curled up in anger, and he tugs at your hair again; scalp prickling.

‘don’t think you’ve earned your right to cum, stupid slut,’ he spits, feeling his cock harden again. your whining, the way you’re so desperate for him even though he’s hurting you, is making him so hard. he just has to do something about it.

he uses his free hand to stroke his cock until it’s fully hardened, and then slides his fingers up your bare thighs until he meets the waistband of your panties. they’re pink lace, and so tiny he’s certain you wore them just for him. what a whore.

‘now, you’re going to take my cock, and if i hear so much as a complaint i won’t hesitate to take my gun out,’ you can see it shining in its holster, so you give a terrified nod, legs trembling as his knee holds you up against the wall.

he slides your panties down, just enough that he can get his cock inside of you, and he presses the tip against your folds. you’re soaking wet; so much so that it’s embarrassing, the slick is coating his head.

‘look at that, can’t even help how fuckin’ wet you are for me, huh?’ he shakes his head in disbelief.

you let out a soft whine as he slaps your pussy, your clit throbbing with the need to be touched. you’re so desperate to just use your hand, but you’re afraid of what he’ll do to you, afraid that he’ll press the cold, hard barrel of the gun into your temple and pull the trigger. you didn’t have anybody to miss you.

coriolanus slides his cock inside of you, groaning as your tight walls stretch around him. he’s big, and for a moment you feel tears brimming in your waterline as you attempt to take him. you have practically soaked his cock now, and he’s not even been inside for five seconds.

‘fuck,’ he mutters, beginning to rut against you.

you toss your head back against the wall, and keep your eyes shut as he pounds into you, pace fastening with every thrust. you can tell he’s only there to chase his release, and to teach you a lesson; make you obey him. you cry out in pleasure as his tip presses against your cervix, but you’re only vocal for fear of what he’ll do to you.

‘so fucking tight, and all for me,’ he grunts, gripping your thighs. his touch causes a painful ache across the skin, and red finger marks where he’s groped you are visible.

‘so good,’ you manage to muster up, head knocking slightly against the brick wall.

coriolanus tugs at your hair again, forcing your eyes open and meet his gaze for a brief moment. he presses a hot kiss against your lips, and then trails them down across your jaw, peppering kisses until he reaches your collarbones. they’re visible from years of malnourishment, and he scrapes his teeth against the outline of the bones as his mouth grazes the delicate skin.

you let out an exasperated sigh. and run your hand across his buzzed hair. he makes a sound between a mewl and a groan, burying his cock so deep inside of you that you can feel his balls slap against your perineum. if anyone is in the alley, the sound of your wet pussy taking his cock can be heard; stretching around him as he presses himself deeper and deeper.

‘oh, fuck!’ you gasp; not nearing your own pleasure, because you don’t dare, not when he’s told you you can’t. but it’s a pleasant warmth that continues to pool inside of you as his tip pokes at your g-spot, almost coaxing you to let yourself unfurl. but you don’t.

coriolanus feels himself nearing his release again. you’re so fucking pliant now, and it’s doing his head in. perhaps if he does this enough times, you’ll be completely docile. do whatever he wants, be his pretty doll to fuck whenever he pleases, to fill her up everytime without complaint.

‘gonna fill you up,’ he groans, bucking with tenacity into you.

it aches a little, how hard he’s going, how big he is. your tightness is becoming unbearable for him, and he feels his vision go white for a moment as he yields to his conclusion. with a final thrust, he buries his cum deep inside of you, tight cunt taking every last drop of his pearly cum.

‘look at that, taking my cum like a little whore,’ he muses, continuing to push his cock into you, ensuring that your cunt is taking it all in, a reminder that you now belong to him.

you purse your lips as he pulls out, and you feel his cum leaking down your thighs. before you can do anything about it, he pulls your panties up and laughs, pearly white teeth showing again. they’re almost too perfect, you think. there’s something terrifying about his face, so noble and dignified, and yet he deigns to fuck you so primally.

‘there you go, bunny,’ he says. ‘gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, hm?’

you want to shake your head, to force out a furious ‘no’ because you don’t belong to anyone but yourself, but you find yourself unable to do anything except nod dumbly. look at that, completely submissive and dumb from his cock. exactly how he wants you. stupid and babbling. not mouthy. no, that’s not allowed.

‘did you learn from your punishment, bunny?’ he strokes your cheek with an eerie gentleness, thumb smoothing the now-dried blood on your cheek.

‘yes, thank you, private,’ you remark, lips twisting prettily into a smile. your mouth is like a rosebud; how fitting.

‘next time, i won’t be so kind.’ he murmurs.

you can't deny that heat pools between your thighs as he mentions next time—as if it's a certainty and not something ambiguous like an unkept promise.

'i'll make sure of that, mr peacekeeper.'

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ramonathinks · 1 month

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BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB

stuck in an elevator with the three elite billionaire sons of Bruce Wayne.

tags: (18+) fingering, squirting, pet names (doll face, baby, sweetheart), dry humping, dirty talk, ripping of clothes, confided spaces, brothers who share, oral (f!receiving), making out, hickies, nipple play, kinda exhibitionism (???), foursome, mention of breeding kinks, praise

notes: i imagine reader as black but i don’t think i used any physical description [repost!]

It was a tight fit. It had you rubbing your thighs together to calm the heat and aching throbbing between your legs. Crossing your ankles together you held your purse tighter and inhaled, trying to think of anything but your three bosses — but their presence was too powerful and overwhelming in this tight and suffocating elevator. Dirty and primal lust filled the air and you swallowed hard trying to ignore it.

They were all so tall, so lean and their muscular bodies took over all of the small space that you were confined in. Awkwardly rolling your hips, trying to ease your aches without being noticed, your body trembled a bit. Your stomach folded in as the mixed aroma of their colognes entered your nose — a musky smell of pine caused you to bite your lip.

The elevator was quiet besides the occasional rumbling but you couldn’t help but feel queasy, feeling as if they all were staring you down.

Quiet yet quick shuffling was heard before you noticed a tanned hand pressing yet another button. You tried to pay no mind to it until all at once the lights flickered and a loud bang started, you gasped aloud and backed back into a hard chest.

“S-sorry,” You stammered, pushing yourself off of whoever was behind you. You tried not to memorize the feeling that your hands felt of the muscular and broadness of his chest, your face felt hot and with the sudden change of temperature it was only worst.

“It’s fine, doll face.” Came the response of the one and only Jason Todd, his voice made you shiver with delight and the ache in your core returned again. Your blazer and tights making you feel stuffy and hot, as if you were wearing too many clothes. “You okay?”

You didn’t trust anymore of your voice but you nodded. Heat pooled between your legs listening to his deep and throaty voice and the nickname he bestowed upon you. Self fanning yourself a bit you looked off to the side, seeing Dick to your side, who winked at you.

“You’re looking pretty hot there,” Dick brought himself closer to your ear and blew a bit near your neck. He chuckled when you jumped back. “I don’t bite baby, you know, unless you like that kind of thing…” His piercing dark blue eyes scanned your face before eyeing your lips.

“No need to be scared.” Tim finally spoke up. You felt a shift in the air before he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in to his chest.

That’s when it clicked for you. Jason pushed the button to halt the elevator. As if reading your expression, their laughter shook the elevator. “Finally figured it out, yeah?” Jason’s eyes were equally piercing as Dick’s but it was the smirk and the white streak of hair that was making you fold.

“She’s been here, what..? About 3 months?” Dick quirked an eyebrow to him, who you felt nod against your shoulder. “Still haven’t noticed us… our stares… our conversations that we always try to rope you in… you just gave us nothing—”

“So we had to do something to get your attention.” Jason finished, bringing his calloused yet soft hands to caress your face, rubbing at your cheeks before removing your glasses from your face.

Grinding his hips against yours, Tim kissed the sides of your neck. Your breathing quickened with every tainting kiss before his mouth opened and then you felt pure wetness dripping down your neck. His thick long tongue licking up a pattern as he grinding himself more against you, you could feel how hard he was, how thick he was and just how big.

“I… I don’t understand…” You muttered, mainly to yourself. Trying to control yourself but your hips were already rutting against Tim’s, quiet moans leaving both of your lips.

“Shh…” Dick pressed a finger to your lips. “It’s nothing for you to understand. Just know… we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“And we plan to make you understand every inch of it, baby.” Tim panted in your ear, you could feel his hands trailing up from your waist leaving a hot trail until he landed on your breast. “Jason, mind giving me a hand?”

It was almost too quick how Jason undid the buttons to your shirt, leaving both the shirt and blazer on, he was tempted to snap a picture. Looking at the position you were in made him want you even more. “So fucking beautiful.” He blew his breath on your nipples, watching them both get hard and erect.

He was never too big on sharing. But with his brothers? It was something different.

You yelped, feeling more heat hit your now bare legs as Dick stretched and ripped the flimsy fabric thighs you were wearing. He turned to look at Jason, “You owe me.”

With hungry eyes, Jason looked between your legs and sucked his teeth. “Fuck.” He groaned. Black lacy panties.

Was it wrong for the brothers to bet what type of panties you wore? Probably. But damn did it pay off.

Bumping his nose against your clothed clit at the same time that Tim tweaked your nipples you tried to move away from them, it was too much. “W-Wait!”

Jason moved closer to you and touched your face again, “Shh. It’s okay.” He cooed before he leaned towards, keeping his eyes on yours.

Everything happened all at once. Your eyes rolled back once you felt his tongue slither inside of your mouth with no warning, his brothers feeling you up it was almost too much for you to focus on — the rhythm of Tim’s hips, Jason’s tongue swirling inside of your mouth and Dick playing with your drooling covered pussy.

Jason applied pressure to your tongue before licking the insides of your mouth, both sides of the cheeks before he sucked on your tongue. Even with your eyes closed, you knew he was still staring at you. Each moan they pulled out of you, another one added pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Feeling Dick pulling your panties to the side and hearing him moan. Your slick wetness sticking to the black Lacy panties you were wearing. “Such a pretty mess down here.” He licked his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, fuck, you like when I say talk to you down here baby?” As if the dripping all over wasn’t enough of an answer, he smiled before dipping his head down.

You held your breath, expecting him to get straight to the point. But instead, he kissed your thighs. Trailing deep kisses up and down, getting closer and closer to your clit every time. Your breathing uneven, Jason moved from your mouth to your breast, his teeth tugging on your dark nipples, still meeting your eyes.

Dick’s muffled moan drew your eyes to him. You watched as his wet tongue tugged at your folds before slurping up the juices that spilled out of you. Your legs were trembling and if it wasn’t for Tim, you would’ve fell over.

“You like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” Tim whispered. “Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m cumming inside of that pussy, you hear me? Matter of fact. When we’re all cumming inside of you, gonna birth a heir to this company, aren’t you?” He sucked on your ear lobe and your pussy tightened up when Dick tried to put his tongue inside of you.

“Don’t scare her off, Tim. He’s just playing around baby.” Jason told you, kissing the valley between your aching breast.

Parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, Dick drove his tongue inside. “Oooh, I…” You we’re babbling. Wetness dripping on his face and even on his expensive shirt as he licked and slurped, nibbling on your puffy clit.

Tim didn’t like how left out he was, the brothers could see it on his face. With another long suck on your clit enough to make you even weaker on your knees, Dick rose up.

“W-wait I didn’t get to—” He covered your mouth with his, holding the sides of your face and massaging the breast that Jason was neglecting.

A sudden intrusion inside of your pussy made you moan aloud. You were so focused that you didn’t feel Tim parting you open for his fingers. “So fucking tight, right here. Such a small pussy. Can’t wait to break her in.” He purred, moving two of his fingers faster inside of you. His hips digging into yours, Jason now sucking on your throat. The gentle fiction from Tim’s slacks driving you even more crazy since his fingers are working too. Using his thumb, he pressed on your clit and dragged his thumb up and down adding pressure each time.

You were struggling to keep your balance. Your voice was hoarse as they had their way with you. Your entire body shaking while you whimpered against them, tightening up on Tim’s fingers and he groaned, stretching them inside of you.

With clenched teeth Tim told you, “Breathe. Fuck, sweetheart. It’s just me, just open up a bit more.” It was feeling good being stretched so good while two other boys felt you up with their hands and their mouths.

You were getting so dizzy. Your orgasm attempting to push through. You didn’t know how you didn’t come yet.

Licking up the pulse on both sides of your neck, Dick and Jason shared a look. You didn’t know what it meant until they both dropped to their knees and eyed your swollen clit.

“Oh you weren’t lying. I knew she’d be pretty. But this is truly a pussy, so smooth and bare.” Jason smirked, pulling your lips open, watching his brother’s fingers dipping inside. Then he moved forward and kissed your aching clit.

Your knees buckled and you threw your head back while Tim continued to hold you up and fuck you with his fingers. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Jason did a deep groan, putting your clit in his mouth and mouthing his head back before letting your clit bounce back before doing it again.

His tongue was putting in work, licking up and down your clit. Feeling another set of wetness you thrusted your hips forward, begging for more, not realized Dick had joined in on the assault of your pussy.

The strokes of their tongues plus Tim’s fingers moving and stretching you so deep, you rode out every feeling you possessed and when Tim pushed in deeper inside of your gummy walls that held him so tight, he pressed and circled your insides until he felt you clench harder than before.

It was the hardest you ever came, your limbs snapping, body shaking hard, babbling words and your pussy squirting out a clear liquid of slick on both of the boys below up, who happily drank it up. You felt drunk as you slid down to the ground.

With wild looks in their eyes, the brothers straightened themselves out, looking over your appearance. Dick pulled your blazer over you and Jason continued to rip the rest of your tights. Tim, got the elevator back on track.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still haven’t faded, your body still twitching and shaking. You could hear them talking to each other, “She’s completely fucked out. She won’t be able to go back to work like this.” Dick said.

“Can’t take her home or Bruce will have our heads for fucking with his best assistant.” Tim replied while Jason just laughed.

“Well,” Jason picked you up as if you weighted nothing. “I can always take her back to my comfy loft.”

Tim and Dick looked at him as if he was crazy. “So you could get started without us? Ha, very funny.” Tim snorted.

“Let’s just find her address on the company—” The elevator dinged and stopped, the doors opening to the person none of you wanted to see.

With wide eyes Bruce Wayne frowned at the sight. Putting a hand over his forehead he did a deep sigh, “Do I even want to know?”

The boys all shook their heads and Tim quickly pressed the button to the company garage. “Let’s just get something to eat first.”

“Works for me.” You yawned, looking dreamily at the three boys.

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imababblekat · 4 months

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TmnT Boy's Reaction To April's Roomie Dressing Nice; Hc's

Anon request, "Hey so I have a quick request- but first ima say that I love your writing style and your spider-person/tmnt AU! It’s so fun to read your work and I say it again, I love it! Anyway tho, can I pls request on how the turtles react to our sleepy roommate, actually looking their best. Such as in a nice outfit and they freshened up. Please don’t feel like you have to write this. And you can skip it if you want. But ya, amazing work! ✨✨✨"

A/N: Aw thank you! sorry i've been dead lately, hopefully i'll be able to get to it tho ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

◍ Previous/Mentioned Post◍

◌ (c,c) = chosen color ◌

~xXx~

Michelangelo:

100% whistles when he comes to pick you and April up for a special NYPD ceremony and gets a look at your nightly outfit

It’s not even anything super sexy; a (c,c) long sleeved, v neck jumper with a simple floral design down one of the open pent legs accompanied with a pair of (c,c) block heals and simple but stylish jewelry

The outfit and your styled up looks are just so different from what Mikey is used to seeing you in, which is usually either comfy sweats or casual clothing depending on the location

He lets you know how stunning you look and doesn’t miss the way you shyly try to hide your blush at his compliments, which only spurs him on some more

At one point in the night he makes a slightly flirtatious comment about how he’s not surprised you pulled off such a look, because he thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, and is promptly met with your very flustered response of shoving your matching orange purse in his face (he regrets nothing!)

Donatello:

This poor turt feels his stomach fluttering when lays eyes upon your outfit for the nights celebration

Accentuating your appearance is a soft (c,c) dress with a sewn on silk cape that covers your upper arms, frilly tights cover your legs and adorable (c,c) flats support your feet, and to top it all off is a simple but very cute pastel purple bow clipped neatly to your hair to pull it all together

Donnie nearly chokes up on his words trying to think of the right thing to say, as he’s so used to seeing you wearing anything else but this type of style

Eventually he settles for just offering you his arm to walk with him into the rented convention center the NYPD is hosting in, to which you appreciatingly take

You’re just so pretty and to be frank the purple bow is definitely throwing him off in the best of ways

Of course, Donnie being too smart for his own good, has a sneaking suspicion the accessory was a purposeful choice based on your little smirk and glinting gaze

Raphael:

All the impatience Raphael felt waiting for you and April to finish getting ready dissipates like water in the Sahara when his golden eyes lay witness to your get up

Enveloping you is a beautiful (c,c) asymmetrical cloak sleeved top that cascades diagonally down your form and to match are a pair of equally flowing wide leg trousers and (c,c) coned heels

The accessory picked to match is a very pretty necklace with a glimmering ruby, a detail that does not escape Raphael’s notice

Speaking of notice, it does not escape you the slightly awkward silence you and April are greeted with from the burly ninja

Raph is quick to fix himself when April ask if he’s okay, hoping no one notices the deep blush upon his cheeks, and he jokingly pretends to not recognize you, saying he’s just focused on trying to see where you’re at

You of course roll your eyes at his antics and smack his arm, Raphael chuckling at your slight feistiness he adores, and commits your un-characteristic appearance to the catalog of memories he has of you

Leonardo:

Much like Raphael, Leonardo is left speechless when the balcony window to your and April’s apartment opens to reveal your chosen attire for the NYPD ceremony

A (c,c) suit blazer tops a neatly ironed dress shirt that’s tucked into matching (c,c) slacks held up by a fastened belt and to match are a pair of (c,c) oxfords to offer your feet comfort as well as added fanciness

The blue tie around your collared shirt is what catches Leo’s eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he steps inside and makes a comment about how the outfit suits you

Ignoring his punny compliment you simply say thanks before adding that you just wish you could get the tie to not be crooked and if he would be okay lending a hand

Leonardo has no issue helping especially when it comes to you and as he closes the gap between you to adjust said troublesome tie, it takes all of his willpower to not get completely enraptured by the deepening blush upon your soft cheeks, that of which always seems to make him equally flush

~xXx~

#bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt x reader #aged up tmnt #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ patience, please, and thank you. tom riddle x reader

summary. you and tom have always sought to best one another in school. it doesn’t help that upon graduating, you work for opposing shops.

tags. rivals to … rivals with benefits? lovers? there’s no real animosity just #flirting so i don’t know, SMUTT minors begone, fluff that may be ooc to some but Not Me, reader literally learns archaic latin for this man, poor boy x rich girl trope if you squint, pureblood reader (and mentions of pureblood marriage politics), explicitly f!reader this time sorry!, fem anatomy, fingering, piv, tldr tom riddle would be turned on by the culminated tension of an eight-year-long academic rivalry.

note. i was 5k words into something else (that is probably better) before this came to me and would not go away so. here it is. don't know where all the smut is coming from. head empty

word count. 6.4k

The bell to Borgin and Burkes knells low and hollow in your ear as you enter, and there he is. Prim waistcoat and perfect hair, tucking books away with a wave of his wand. Far too pretty a thing for a dusty place like this, you think, and you smile with your head held high, pretending to take in the inventory as if that's ever been your reason for coming here.

“You mightn't consider leaving at all," Tom says, regarding you briefly before returning to his books, “if you're going to return this often."

“Oh, Riddle, but then what would you do without my company? Talk to the bones?"

“A tempting offer when considering my alternative.”

He leans against the counter to watch you as you make your way down the aisle, fingers jolting as they brush the shelves of dark paraphernalia, preemptively casting a locking jinx on a particularly nasty skeletal hand that grabbed you once last year.

“Is there anything you're looking for?"

“Nothing in particular,” you hum as you peruse, “Curiosities of your friendly competitors.”

“Friendly,” he repeats, like he’s tasting a strange flavour.

You smile with just enough polished barb that you hope it bothers him. “Most cordial. And I am nothing if not the dutiful volunteer for the task."

It is an objective truth that you are good at many things. Tom is good at all of them and perhaps one more: being pushed significantly and never showing symptoms of breaking. You'd like to be the one to change that.

“I presume you intend to leave with something?" There's a challenge in his voice, clear as day, as he stands straighter, but — not bothered. Not bothered, just intrigued. His hands fold behind his back and his chin comes up, daring you to say a single snarky thing that isn't true — that you're here to taunt him. Not to buy a thing, and not to enjoy his company.

It was such a boring day before this. If he only knew, he might have a tad more sympathy.

“Breathe, Riddle — if you can through all the dust in here — I've plenty of money to spare; there’s no need to fret about me leaving empty-handed." You select a book at random to prove your point, waltzing closer to hand Tom four sickles from your coin purse.

You're pleasantly surprised to see him actually smile, the corners of his mouth stretching with only the slightest degree of mirth. He reaches out and takes the coins, setting both upon the counter before turning up his nose at the book in your hands. “It must be an enthralling read to capture your attention."

You smooth the cover over with manicured hands and shrug at the indecipherable title. “Well, I’m remiss not to have a clue. I believe it's in Latin."

He runs his hand along the book, thumbing the pages with a raised brow. “It’s a history text. Ancient Roman institutes of magic.” His gaze returns to you. “Will that be all?”

You roll your eyes. He would know a dead language — it's such a remarkably Riddle thing to do — probably just for the sake of knowing it.

“Yes, if that's satisfactory enough that I may be permitted to walk the premises without causing offence."

“Of course. Though I do expect a review of it soon," he adds, “to know whether my time hasn't been entirely wasted."

“A review?" You laugh. “And I suppose you ask that of all your customers? Mind the matter of it being in a language I don't know; it would take me a few months for a crude translation at best."

“Only my best customers," he says with a small shrug, as if that isn't a completely arbitrary standard he's just pulled out of nowhere. “In that case, you've the better part of a year to read it," he adds, and the smile on his face is less thin, less restrained, more cocky.

You raise a brow, scanning over the words on the first page as if hoping something will stick out. It's all gibberish. “I'm being timed now, am I? I don't recall accepting the task."

"Do you not?"

You scoff. "Of course I do."

“Or perhaps I could translate for you?" he suggests, “It's really no bother for me."

You should be offended — he's eternally eager to see you fail — but your stomach flips at the premise of a challenge you haven't felt since you were in school together, and most importantly, you never fail. “Give me a date, Riddle.”

“I think by Christmas would be fair. Does that give you enough time, or shall I set it a bit later?"

“Christmas," you agree, shaking his hand with all professionalism you can muster (this is, after all, a very professional exchange), turning away, and smiling to yourself as the shop bell tolls again.

It’s only weeks before Christmas when it occurs to you that this isn’t even for anything. There’s no prize should you win, no one else is aware of it, it’s a great waste of time when what began as a passable weekend hobby has now drowned you in English-Latin dictionaries and histories of Ancient Rome. The shop surpasses last year’s sales and you’re dozing off into your mother’s pastry dish during the family celebration. Even your father telling a rather pitiful tale of his Polyjuiced visit to Borgin and Burkes can’t keep your attention when he drones on about how easily he fooled Mr Borgin into remembering the details of some spat twenty years ago. Your brain is in a half-scattered language. It tugs you to what might be the most depressing December 25th of your life if you’re forced to give Tom the gift of your failure.

So you double-down. Your social life is nonexistent. You’re three quarters through the textbook and dreaming about duelling Tom under the Arch of Constantine, and he wins, and he wins, and he wins each time. It only propels you more. You’re downing Invigoration Draughts like a drunkard with a cradle of firewhisky.

And you do it.

You finish the damn book, you think you might have actually fucking learned Latin with how deep the words have rooted in your skull, and you win.

You win, in your prettiest dinner dress, snow clinging to your hair, wrapped in a brand new coat as the shop bell tolls and you step inside.

You’re grateful you don’t say as much (which you were planning on doing — planning on slamming the door shut behind you and carolling your bloody success) because it’s Mr Burke at the counter this Christmas evening, not Tom.

“...Miss?” He regards you with perplexity behind the counter.

You blink, recollecting yourself and stepping forward to shake his hand. “Mr Burke. My family wished to extend their best wishes for the new year.”

“Quite a gesture," comes a familiar voice from behind you as Tom steps out from the staircase, dressed in a dark suit and overcoat, like he’s just been out. He’s smiling. He looks disgustingly well.

You glance between the two men, and Burke bows curtly as if made aware of something he’d previously been warned of. “To yours as well, miss.” And then he’s off to assist the only other customer, an elderly woman in fur-lined green with so many glittering pins in her hair she resembles a Christmas tree.

“Riddle,” you say, facing him, unable to hide the triumphant grin that digs into your cheeks. You hand him the book, and atop it, your three pages of articulate, edited review.

“You made it. You read it," he acknowledges, though you doubt he’s surprised, and then nods to the stairs. “Come.”

You follow him up the narrow spiral into a short corridor, taking one look back at the old woman, now clasping a shrieking bauble you gladly turn away from. The door Tom opens is unlocked, presumably where he’d just come from, and — you feel a bit overwhelmed if you’re correct, but you have no idea what else it could be — presumably his flat.

When you enter, the door shuts behind you with an empty click of the latch. The room before you is rather sparse, a kitchenette in one corner, a cramped study in the other, with books upon books and scrolls stacked high on shelves along the dark walls. There's only the barest of seating, two armchairs beneath a dim desk lamp, a small table beside the fireplace, and… a bed, of all things, separated only by a thin divider and the courtesy of enough distance not to immediately draw the eye. You, of course, can't quite help it, gaze lingering on the tidy sheets and back to him.

It isn’t a thought you do well to dwell on. Too many directions for your imagination to roam.

“Well then," you say, hanging your coat at the door and trying not to display any overt anticipation as the parchment rustles in his hand, “Shall I just sit and await your evaluation?"

He raises a brow. “I was going to ask if you’d like tea. Do sit, though.”

Oh. Yes, right, you’re rushing things. Hospitality. Decorum. Consideration. You suppose Tom Riddle would extend those things for the sake of posterity if nothing else. “Something black, if you have any, please.”

The water comes to a boil quickly under the steady heat of his magic, and you’re sinking into a shockingly comfortable armchair taking in every shape and blemish of the room while you’re in it. You don’t have to guess that he doesn’t have many guests.

“Darjeeling,” Tom says as he offers you a steaming cup, “if that’s satisfactory.”

You resist a scowl at his mocking tone, placing the tea on a glass coaster and glancing purposefully at your work (your magnum opus, really) once more. “Perfectly.”

Tom notes your look with a smile, settling into the seat opposite yours.

You take a sip of tea and lean back. “Do go on.”

“Eager,” he mutters, but begins.

He skims over the opening line before flipping the book open as if to be sure you haven’t made it all up, and then you think you probably could have made it all up if you wanted. Read one of the hundreds of magical histories of Rome that certainly existed — probably in your own shop, at that — and gathered much the same conclusion. But you did not. Tom must know you did not.

The silence is thick as he reads, waned only by the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional turn of a page. His brows furrow the way you always remember catching in school, like he's concentrating on a particularly hard puzzle, and you have to busy yourself with a nearly empty cup of tea to pretend not to notice the way his beauty is something almost delicate. Framed by firelight and the indigo gloss of the night shining in through the window, you imagine his hair mussed, his long eyelashes speckled with snow, his cheeks pink from the cold. You wonder about him in a nicer suit than this. You could buy him one, if you liked.

And then, at last, he looks up over the parchment, expression carefully measured. “I'm impressed.”

You put your cup down and you can’t help it. You're smiling. You're proud. His approval is like bottling the tail of a rainbow (which you’ve been told is possible), and it's a feeling that’s been absent from you for so long, it's never come from him — Merlin, you've always wanted it to come from him, haven’t you?

“You’re impressed?” you ask, as you love nothing more than to push. “Is that all?”

He loves nothing more than to keep his face impassive, but there’s a twitch there. Something you’re aware you can only spot because of how much attention you pay him.

“I enjoyed your perspective on the Romans’ utilisation of firedrakes. It was well-thought.”

“Well-thought?”

“Quite good, yes.”

“Good," you say, grinning in the bulk of your triumph, “I suppose that means I win."

Win. You’re not winning anything but the implication that Tom is somehow losing. Still he does not break, and you think at seventeen he would have. At nearly twenty his smile just grows. “Have you ever done anything less?”

Is he pushing too? That could be fun.

“Oh, first year tribulations. Nothing since — you wouldn’t remember.”

“Hm, I do recall an unfortunate lesson with a matagot in Beasts, and that must have been, what—” He tilts his head as though to ponder it— “fourth year?”

You narrow your eyes. “Paid an ever-close watch on me, did you, Riddle?”

“As close as anyone else.”

“And by that you mean to say—?”

“Only that it’s a most fascinating custom, the matter of pureblood marriage. It was hard to avoid your name in a common room full of your particular politics.”

“Ah,” you hum, summoning the teapot from the kitchenette to pour another cup, “so my potential marital affairs are what drew your attention. And here I was thinking it was because I was the only person who could ever best you.”

He stops your tea mid-motion, and you still as he sends both the pot and the cup to the table beside you. “Can it not have begun as one and have become the other?”

“Well, your curiosity knows no end; I should be flattered by such multifaceted interest.”

“So you won’t mind my inquiring.”

“Whatever you wish, Riddle.”

“Upon the current status of your betrothal.”

You blink, and then laugh. “There is no betrothal. At present.”

“At present. Is it subject to change?”

“There’s always talk,” you offer, and it offers impressively little.

“Elaborate...”

“I don’t know that you’re in any position to be making demands,” you gibe, “considering I paid four sickles to prove you wrong and I haven’t anything to show for it but my pride.”

He smiles. “Not enough to sate your desire to make me grovel, it seems.”

“You? Grovel?” You gasp, fingers circling your knee idly. “What a fascinating concept… Wait now, I’m trying to paint the picture.”

“Is that not what you came for?” he asks, and it’s odd to see him amused by the idea. You push and push and he just continues to take. “To prove me wrong? To puncture my pride?”

You shrug innocently, even though you’d just said as much. “I’m here to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

He laughs, a warm, quiet laugh — more of a breath than anything — but true if you can read him at all, and that’s a bit alarming. “Of course. Near nine months of exhaustive translation all to bid me a nice holiday. It sounds almost like grovelling, doesn’t it? Wait, now, I’m trying to paint the picture.”

You bite back your smile. Damn him. He’s never been funny before. That’s a problematic development.

“Fine.” Your legs are already crossed and now you’re crossing your arms too, and you look very reserved compared to his relaxed stature. “A match would, of course, need to be of good title.”

“Of course,” Tom says, without even an attempt at masking his amusement.

“And he would need to be rich.”

“Naturally.”

“It would help to be from one of the Sacred Houses.”

“I should not expect anything less.”

“And I suppose age is a factor,” you go on. You push, and push, and push. Tom is impervious. He takes.

“What age would do well?”

“Near enough to my own. For health, of course.”

“For health,” he agrees delightedly.

What the hell are you talking about?

“It would be preferable that he be handsome.”

“And of his character?”

“Most agreeable.”

“Docile?”

“Hm, docile, yes.”

“It is a long list.”

“I’ve been told I’m a difficult woman to sate. Far too prideful, apparently.”

Your fingers are drawing figure-eights on your thigh now, and Tom’s eyes flash briefly to the motion. You stop as though caught, and you aren’t sure why.

“A defamatory accusation,” he says quietly.

You wonder if his voice has always had that tinge to it: the gravel underlining his polish like the crack of the fire, and — that must be why it’s so warm in here, too. It has been that way since you arrived, hasn’t it? Such polarising temperatures between your walk in the snow to this, you must have only just adjusted… an hour after arriving. It’s completely logical.

“So there are talks,” you repeat, if only because you’ve blanked on all else.

“Well,” he says, eyes boring into yours in a way that makes you feel transparent, “I wish you all the best. If it at all helps, you can now add a moderate understanding of Latin to your list of virtues.”

You drape an arm across your chair to match his easy posture. (And how is it he manages to look regal and informal at the same time?) “My list of virtues? Elaborate.”

He shakes his head with a small smile and you point an accusatory finger at him. “Ah, ah, Riddle — I won, remember? And I indulged your inquiring regardless.”

His eyes narrow. “You do want me to grovel.”

“It’s Christmas.”

“I don’t believe that’s the purpose of the day.”

“And that matters to you?”

He leans forward, looking over you as if your supposed virtues will reveal themselves upon scrutiny. It’s a bit offensive, really. You’d hope he could find more than enough with one glance.

He settles, after a long moment where you feel almost bare, on, “Your pride is agonising.”

It’s — not exactly what you were hoping for. Not quite grovelling, by any definition, but then, what did you expect from him?

“Excuse me?”

“Your stockings are ripped at the calf.”

“Riddle—”

“Your lipstick may have stained my teacup. It is a shade I’m rather fond of, but I do not wish to see a trace of it left behind.”

“Quite good,” you say through gritted teeth.

“And I should not be agonised — incautious and unfettered at a sliver of skin or the gesture of your mouth —” You realise with horror that he’s speaking through something constrained too — “and yet I am.”

It’s — is that a confession? Have you broken him? Have you won again? Your stomach flips and it doesn’t feel at all like winning. He certainly doesn’t look like a man who’s lost. In fact, he’s watching you intently, and at your lack of response, the constraint forming a taut line on his lips seems to slip back into something deliberate. Curious.

You recover to the best of your ability. “It is a short list.”

“Shall I go on?” he asks, and it’s an answer, too: no, you have most definitely not broken him. He looks a bit like he’s found a neat pathway to breaking you instead.

“I’d hate to debase you further.”

He leans in, and he might be about to stand, and that might be an irreversible thing to do. “Are you sure? I can’t imagine you’ve painted the picture yet.”

Oh, you’ve painted the picture. You’ve painted a gallery.

“I find the image regrettable half-done. No point finishing it now.”

You do not.

“And besides,” you add, “I know my virtues.”

He smiles, and he’s half orange in the firelight and half blue in the night, green somewhere in the middle, and he should be condemned for being this beautiful. “Elaborate.”

You shouldn’t. “I’m intelligent.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“So I’ve seen,” he agrees, still leaning in.

“I’m good at my job.”

And then he stands.

It is an irreversible thing. Your heart lurches like it knows he’s going to do something that cannot be undone. Your heart lurches because it is a thing you’ve anticipated, quietly, on late nights in scrolls of Latin so you might be able to pretend to mistranslate them — you know, in your first tongue and any other, that you do not want it to be undone.

“Anything else?” he asks. You aren’t sure if you’re resentful of the proximity of his seat to yours or grateful for it, because it takes no time at all for him to be standing before you.

“I’m well-mannered,” you say, and it comes out quieter than you mean for it to. “Lettered in etiquette.”

“Etiquette," he repeats slowly, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, and you don't quite know how he manages an intonation like that, but there it is, dripping with so much contempt you’re surprised he doesn’t fall over.

It wouldn’t be terrible if he did. He’d land right on top of you and put this little game to rest.

Instead he reaches a hand to your cheek — your hair — and brushes it like it’s an absolutely standard thing to do. He pulls away just the same. As if his hand is familiar with the shape of your face because it’s been there before. You'd definitely remember if it had.

“Of course,” you breathe, “patience and pleases and thank yous.”

“In all your manners, you might provide an example.”

Fine. If he’s going to be difficult. “I’d say I’m displaying great patience right now.”

“Hm.” His hands find yours where they sit on either arm of your chair, and his figure is blocking all light now. It shines on his shoulders, casts him like an aura. “That’s one.”

You look at his lips, and don’t bother to look away. You incline forward as much as you can when you’re caged in like this, until his breath is on yours and you can smell his cologne.

“Please,” you say, and for the challenge in it you don’t feel too humbled.

He is most obliging.

His lips just barely brush yours at first, and you did say you were patient — so you wait. The feather-light touch of them stills before it deepens, his hands pressing down on yours. Your open mouth. His tongue. You're kissing him, breathlessly and frantically and completely, and it is all you want.

Tom pulls back and you instinctively push forward. You will your eyes to open and he’s still right there — he hasn’t gone anywhere (what a deranged concern that is) — lips an inch from yours, and he’s smiling.

“That’s two.”

Oh. Oh, he’s an aberration in human variance. There’s something incredibly wrong with him.

There isn’t a way of turning gratitude into a challenge, you think. It doesn’t ask for anything. It appreciates. In this case it would more closely resemble worship. Thank you for your kiss, Riddle, I’d be nothing without it.

So you search to find a way around it that still gets you what you want.

“I’ll need a bit more than a lousy kiss if you want to see me grovel, Riddle." Your voice is a bit rough. You don’t know that your confidence lands the way it typically does.

But you came here to — what was it — puncture his pride? Push him until he breaks? You’ve already made it halfway, and you are, after all, very good at it.

And you suppose he wants to earn the third, because he scowls and then he’s kissing you again and this time his hands are on your face, and perhaps they are somehow familiar with the shape because they fit around you in some inexplicably whole way, like they were made for it. With your hands free, you’re carding your fingers through his hair, hoping for that vision of him you imagined earlier, with thick, messy waves and flushed cheeks.

Tom brings a hand to your waist and tugs you in, and you’re partly pulled from the chair by his insistence and overwhelmingly pushing to get out of it yourself, lips never leaving his as you stumble past the meagre divider to his bed.

The backs of your thighs hit the footboard and your knees buckle, gasping away from Tom’s mouth as you reach for the bedpost. His breath is heavy as his hand curves to the small of your back to keep you steady, your dress bunched in his fist, and there’s a heat in him pressed against you, like a match being held to kindling. And in the flash of fire when it finally strikes, everything in his eyes is clear, singularly focused, and he's pushing you to your back, splayed across his tidy sheets as he kisses you with bruising ferocity.

There's an urgency now to his movements that wasn't there before, and it's a stark contrast to his usual calculated demeanour, but that feels like winning. That feels like breaking Tom Riddle, whittling years of practised constraint to… this. That draws the third: makes you nice and grateful like he asked, because no part of you wants his careful fortitude here. You want to ruin him.

He appears to want the very same from you, which wrecks the whole thing.

Your legs move to wrap around him and he stops you, one hand pinning you by the hip and then down, past where you think he’ll go, as he finds the hem of your dress and lifts it from your calf to your knee. He draws circles over the thinly-clothed skin and you can do nothing but lie there, panting a little, staring at him with less patience than you’d proclaimed to have. And then his fingers move upwards, and they’re drawing figure-eights, and you understand that if this isn’t a taunt, nothing is. He copies your earlier motions. He does not kiss you. His fingers trail higher and higher and they’re soft like the shadows framing his face.

Finally he finds the waistband of your stockings and begins to tug them down your hips, stopping when he reaches that sliver of skin revealed by a tear in the fabric, taking your leg and hiking it up so he can look closely. He smiles, finger sliding down the tear in such a precise, meticulous fashion you can’t help but think he’s doing it on purpose. The moment does not linger when he pulls away, shuffling your stockings down the rest of the way so your legs are unclad before him, your heels already kicked off somewhere across the floor.

He watches your sharp exhale when he ducks down to kiss the skin of your thigh. A shiver runs through you at his softness, another when you see his face, see his eyes go dark with want of you.

His constraint is back, and it’s fucking detrimental. The only silver lining you can find in it, and you hope to be correct (haven’t you been so far?), is that maybe that means Tom Riddle can be broken in litany. Maybe he amends his ruination now but you can carve it out of him again later.

“Come here,” you say, your voice ragged.

Tom frowns, one hand pursuing a dangerous path up the inside of your thigh. “And here I was under the impression you wanted me to grovel.”

“Oh,” you huff, “is that what this is? Not some feeble attempt at winning after I —”

You grip his hair as his fingers curl under the lace of your underwear, as he smiles at the dampness there, the way your argument dissipates beneath his touch. “Winning?” he derides, breathy to match your tone in a way that feels cruel rather than considerate. You nod even as your breathing accelerates and he lifts the skirt of your dress to rest over your thighs, his eyes darting between your legs and your own heavy gaze as if he can't decide which is more intriguing. And then he slides a finger across your heat and you think he’s made his choice. "Is that what you think I want?"

You blink, feeling a bit lost. "What else is there?"

“Will you thank me after this?”

Right. That. You swallow, head falling back on his pillow. “Doubtful.”

“Hm,” he mumbles, some kind of consideration that can only be answered by the movement of his fingers against you, slow as they seek to learn you.

You arrest the moan that rises in your throat, teeth clenching together as Tom climbs over you once more, his body keeping you in place to watch the sustained details of your expression as one of his fingers dips inside you. You hiss, and his gaze burns into you, his mouth parted with a degree of awe and you think perhaps this is the picture he painted — you, under him, eyebrows pinched together as your hands scramble for purchase on his chest, fighting to remain intact.

But then his thumb brushes up against your clit and you let out a sound — half a moan, half a mewl. Tom doesn't give you a second to recover as his lips come down on yours again, hard, desperate, like he's trying to inhale you. And you let him, you take the little bit of ruin he surrenders in the great expanse of yours.

Even if you could quiet your noises you stand to think Tom would feel them, taste them, bite down on them like he does your lower lip, a second finger coiling into you. Your hand smacks at his wrist, clutching his arm with such intensity you can feel every sinew of his movement as he works away at you. Your legs are trembling, pressing around his waist an act of simultaneous resistance and desperation as you push upwards for friction and conquest.

You find both. Undeniable hunger — how he groans softly against your open mouth, how the imprint against your thigh is hard under his trousers, how he wants you.

His ministrations only intensify when your hand searches for the buckle of his belt, gripping your jaw like he needs to watch you fall apart before you can find parity in your desperation. It isn’t an impossible wish; your mind is hazy at the push and pull of his fingers, curving where his thumb draws ceaselessly on the other side, and you think, as much as you’re able right now, that he could succeed. But you force your eyes open to the space where your hand is wedged between your bodies, yanking hastily at his belt and sighing into his shoulder as it unfastens.

His trousers are unbuttoned, unzipped, and you’re arching into him with laboured pants even when your hand slips past them to find skin you've never travelled before.

Tom’s motions stagger when your fingers brush experimentally over his length, and you suddenly understand his ardent focus. You can’t help but stare at the way his jaw ticks, a hiss parting through gritted teeth, and the fact that you’re doing this to him is almost enough to push you over the edge. You grip him in one hand, and his fingers move again like some act of defiance, tightening his hold on your jaw. And then you’re pumping slowly, carefully, the only way you think to with the intention of pleasing him. Of weakening him.

He turns your head so you’re gasping into the pillow, neck exposed for him to press his mouth to. His teeth and tongue are on you and your hand slips from him for a moment as you shudder. Fuck him. This isn’t enough. You won't lose like this.

You tug at his waistcoat now, snapping open the buttons until the last few are clinging on by cheap threads. You’ll buy him that suit, you think. One that you can shrug off as fervently as you like without worrying about tearing the seams.

Your removal of his shirt is not aided by the swelling fire inside you, how the attention of his fingers has remained steady through your squirming and it feels like it’s culminating to something fatal. Your fingers grow shakier but don't stop their pursuit until every button is undone and you can soothe their trembling by pressing your palms against the warm expanse of his chest.

And then they’re back in his trousers, pushing them down his thighs as he continues to chip away at you. You bite back moans and blink through your dizziness.

Tom stops, and it might be more devastating than if he hadn’t. Your body is taut, a fine, thrumming wire spared a moment before snapping.

“More,” is all you say, tracing the shape of him through his briefs.

“More?” he asks. There’s a small mercy in the rasp within in his voice, the uncertainty despite himself. “I suppose that means I win.”

“Win?”

His gall almost, almost pulls you back to reality. But he’s — he’s pulling his trousers further down and your body, like some separate entity to your mind, is flush against him when he’s finally free of all obstructions.

“Mhm,” he hums, and almost-reality dwindles away into fucking nothing — disappears before your eyes when he brings his finger to his tongue and tastes you.

You tear him back to your mouth with a sound that so desperate your humility shouldn’t be able to take it but that's all gone now. His lips are wet and swollen and you’re adjusting yourself so his hips are lined with yours, and your head rolls back when he positions himself against your core and stays there.

“I win,” you breathe. “Everything else is just—”

He moves, hands on your waist as he presses ever-so-slightly inside you. You clutch wildly at his arms, your eyes wrenching shut.

“Look at me,” he says softly. His thumb caresses your cheek as if any act of his acts of tenderness are at all actually tender and not depraved requests for your resignation.

You shake your head. “It’s ju-just—”

He sinks further, unhurried, and you feel like crying, your body clenching around him as the pressure deepens.

“Just what?” he asks, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Just… um, just…”

“Hm?”

“I win... s’just… cheating…”

You feel him smiling against your neck, and then he detaches his lips to observe you, nodding with false sympathy. “You win.”

And he shifts himself forward so he’s pushed to the hilt.

It’s a lie. It’s a lie as Tom holds you against him, carving kisses into your skin that burn, as you shudder a moan into the thick, hot air, as he begins to move rhythmically inside you, your fingers digging crescent moons into his spine and dragging.

You don't win.

If you are steel honed over years, it’s this moment that you melt, and you think if you were to be fused again it would be in a different shape.

And you mean that. You honestly feel liquified when he splits you slow like this, rolling his hips as you cling to him for strength like he isn’t the thing shattering you.

You rock to meet him, you bury your nails in his back, you rest your moans with your teeth in his shoulder — whatever you can think to make this fair. Make true to your word. You are going to break, it's true, but you are going to break Tom Riddle too.

“Fingers,” you mutter, far too much of a demand for the way it almost stumbles into a sob, but Tom makes a strained sound in the back of his throat as if it gratifies him that you want it enough to ask.

“Thank me,” he answers on a harsh exhale.

You bite at his collar, shaking your head, but your legs are starting to shake and you wouldn’t ask if it was something you wanted — you mask it as an order because you need it. Because you imagine what he’s doing now combined with his thumb on your clit and it’s enough to make your abdomen clench just thinking about it.

Instead one of your hands forsakes the sweet curve of his muscles every time he thrusts into you so that it can snake between your own legs, and you mimic his earlier ministrations just long enough to drive a moan from your lips before Tom’s eyes dart from your lips, the rise and fall of your chest, to the hand missing from his back.

He grabs it with a scowl, pinning one wrist and then the other above your head.

“Stubborn,” he hisses, and he buries himself inside you like it's something personal, persistent in his strokes when his fingers finally rub over you how you wanted.

And you know you’ve done it when his head falls on your shoulder and you feel yourself tighten around him. His grip on your wrists is punishing. His mouth on your shoulder is stringent. He’s hard and full inside you and his fingers slide against you in delicate, torturous contrast. You know because it all stutters a bit when you pull him into a kiss, when you know you’re about to plummet into oblivion and he’s gripping you through it like you might steady him — like you aren’t the thing shattering him.

When you do, it’s something visceral. You think you might be spinning, or floating — screaming, maybe — spilling ill-mannered expletives in strings with his name because your hands are still trapped under his and your body can do nothing else. What you know, undoubtedly, is that you’re coming down from it for a long time, in a haze when you manage to breathe the words into his ear. “Thank you.”

Tom breaks. It’s the most beautiful you think he’s ever looked; eyebrows cinched and pink mouth parted, hair mussed like you wanted, neck tense as he stills inside you and you feel every part of him let go.

Your legs are too weak to cling to him through it, and you just pant under him, blinking languidly and in awe.

You stay like that for a long time.

He leans in when he finally pulls out of you, kissing you like one form of contact must be replaced with another. It's the same with his hands. He sinks into the space beside you and releases your wrists just to cup your face instead.

Yours come up instantly and shamelessly to his hair, craving nothing more than to curl your fingers through the dark mess of it. You trace the sharp shape of his cheeks, too, like his did to yours, like you need to memorize the lines of his expression and the heat of his skin before the world outside seeps in and it all goes cold.

But you pull away and you can't imagine it will.

There’s something in his eyes that feels new. Longing like he’s shed all pretence of acting like nine years of treading the lines of this rivalry has ever been anything but a pathetic display, like he knows you've shed it too. It makes you catch your breath to think this is what it feels like to be desired by Tom Riddle; that you desire him all the same; all this time.

“You know,” you say, and your voice sticks dry to your mouth, “I still win.”

He shakes his head. He smiles. You want terribly to kiss him again.

“I’ll just have to find something else to best you in, won’t I?”

You pretend like you’re considering it and not just staring at him.

“I think by Christmas would be fair.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

Hi hi! Thank you for letting me go ahead and send it through! I didn’t want to overwhelm you, that’s absolutely fine still take your time and keep taking those breaks mamas!

I’ve seen a lot of single dilf Miguel x reader but I don’t think I’ve ever read where reader was a single parent. So I was thinking reader is new to spider society and on the day she’s told to join she has to bring her baby because she didn’t have a babysitter. Well Miguel sees her and it’s like he’s instantly drawn to her like sunflowers are to the sun, sunflowers move where the sun goes and when the sun doesn’t shine they face each other (She’s kinda like his day and night if that makes sense) but instead of acting on it he dismisses her but kinda admires her and her baby from a distance.

Well one day she’s having a small part for the main group and she invited Miguel because she always felt the feelings but also dismissed them. Then after the party he stays to help and the end up getting closer and yeah. It can be nsfw I don’t mind, I also hope this makes sense it’s been in my mind for a while and you’d be so good for this!

The rest is all up to you if you decide to write it pretty girl. Just remember to take your time and all the breaks you need. Mental, physical, and emotional health is important don’t overwork yourself 💕

Im so sorry this taken me soo long. Hope this make it justice 😊❤️. Thanks for requesting dear.

If it wasn't for the webs that stopped Rhino as he was about to deliver the last blow to you, you'd be certainly gravely injured or worse.

Another Spiderwoman, clad in a red, yellow and black suit had helped you through. Both of your minds in sync, that soon earned you the win over a now unconscious Rhino.

She introduced herself as Jessica Drew. Another Spiderwoman from another universe. At first her explanation of what the Arachnohumanoid-Polymultiverse was, had your head spinning and confused, but after quite a while of visiting you on duty, and clearing up as much questions you needed, you had been officially 'invited' to join, by Miguel’s orders.

You've never met the man, but the way people talked about him, made you not only curious but excited to meet him. Everyone described him as a good yet scary boss.

----

"Let's go"

"Hope you don't mind?" Your nervous smile reached Jess as you packed in your child's stuff in the baby sling. A couple of diapers, extra clothes and bottles.

"Look at this beautiful boy" Jessica held him as you finished packing up stuff, "Didn't know you had one"

"Oh, well. You never asked. Plus we always met on duty. The babysitter I get for him called in sick and I have none as a back up. Hope Miguel doesn't mind."

"What about his dad?"

Your head shook softly and sighed.

"He decided to not be part of our lives."

Jessica just nodded, lips pursing.

"His loss, really. Anyways, ready to go?"

------

Not even in your wildest dreams you'd imagine something as The Babylon Tower or HQ as most Spiders called it, could exist. Different sort of Spiders paraded around and greeted Jess upon her arrival.

Some even greeted your toddler that cooed and giggled upon the many heroes that came his way.

"Let's get you to Miguel." Jess walked ahead and you followed, you baby's eyes wandered, marveling at the different colors and people. You'd sometimes make hamocs and web playgrounds for him to be more active. Your babysitter was the only person you could actually trust your identity, she had even helped you sometimes by calling the cops, or even fixing your suit.

Another man in a pink bathrobe approached and gasped at your baby

"Please tell me we're getting a Spider Parents exclusive division now."

You chuckled and Jess just rolled her eyes

"Sweetie, this is Peter."

"As in Peter Parker?"

"Nah. As in Peter Benjamin 'B' Parker."

"Oh... And whose that cutie over there?" Your eyes trailed to Mayday as she beamed at you.

"Mayday. A lil spider in growth"

"She has spider powers?! Oh my goodness!"

"It's chaos, I know. What about yours?"

"Normal baby so far. Should I be concerned?"

"Not really, it comes in the least unexpected moment and them BAM! Spider baby. "

You giggled as you made your way through the halls to a much more secluded and dark area.

"Miguel?"

Your baby couldn't help but babble as a hulking figure approached from the furthest corner.

"He's so dramatic" Peter whispered and again, you giggled under your mouth.

Jess introduced you both and explained your progress to him. Apparently they had been observing you for quite the time.

" I apologize for bringing my child. My babysitter called in sick."

"No problem."

Even though his voice was calm, the coldness in it made you recoil to yourself. His scrutinizing gaze fixed on you and your baby. By instinct you held him close.

Red eyes settled on yours, but the subtle stare contest was interrupted by the anomaly alarm.

-----

As your time in the Spider Society advanced, your interactions with Miguel improved significantly, and by that it'd mean longer conversations, a joke here and there and of course moments so subtle between you both that you had to be quite analytical to know that he gave glances your way or lean to you slightly whenever speaking to him.

Not that you were inmune to his looks, but his patience stood proudly among his other virtues. And to your surprise he seemed to handle Mayday well enough. What actually made you to be drawn to him is that in one of your many occasions that you couldn't leave your baby boy alone, and brought him into HQ with you, he'd be instantly looking for Miguel.

Your cheeks would flush impossibly red as your baby clung to his leg and erupted in a bubbly laughter.

"God, I'm so so sorry, he just... seem to like the blue alot."

An airy chuckle was everything that escaped his lips. Of course there was so many questions he'd want to do out of curiosity. He had noticed you didn't wear a ring, neither talked about the baby's father. It was something he never seemed to coax out of you. No matter how subtle he was about it.

Pa pa

You both froze as your baby mumbled and grabbed a few strands of his hair.

"I'm so sorry..." You pried the baby away from him and fled the place as soon as you could. He just watched you leave, the inner turmoil in his heart was surely playing dirty. The way the baby had clung to him, and climbed ontop of his chest made his heart to leap after a long long while.

-----

You had been avoiding him, for sure. Ever since your little incident with the baby mumbling his first words, you had taken your distance with him. Of course you weren't ready for your baby's actions, but the fear of going through all that again, had surely dismissed all possible blooming feelings you had for your boss. Besides he seemed way too busy and aloof to try and pursue anything with anyone.

Not that you blamed him, the multiverse depended basically on him. It was for the best.

----

The moment you were falling asleep, your Spider senses tingled so hard you had a little headache coming your way.

Dread settled on your brain as your baby boy screamed and wailed.

No No No!

You were already darting towards his room, and pulled him with one of your webs towards you, holding onto him for dear life as the creature shredded his crib to bits with its elongated talons.

Your eyes went wide at the sudden action, your baby kept wailing in fear, earning the humanoid like creature to snap it's attention to you. You were fast, but the creature was faster and sliced through your flesh in one of your sides. You fell on your back protecting your son from the impact with a groan.

You needed to get out, or at least put your baby out of danger.

Survival mode kicked in as you dodged and took as much damage as you could from the creature that seemed way too keen into hurting your child.

You fought but exhaustion was taking over, the blows of the creature only seemed harder and powerful, but no matter what your priority was to keep your child safe, even if it costed your life.

The creature pounced on you, but the final blow never came. There was a commotion as you tried to get up, all you could hear was inhuman shrieks, growlings and finally the engine of a too familiar motorcycle revving up.

Your baby was pried away from your hands and you whimpered

"N-No!" even in your injured state, your mother instinct kicked in.

Your name was called, several times until you were held against a sturdy yet warm body with such care and tenderness that stilled your thrashing body. Vision blurred, but the last thing you saw the led lights of a blue and red suit, red eyes staring at you with concern.

-----

You woke up in HQ's medical bay. Pain surging through your body as you tried to sit down, Miguel's hand stopped you. Face with his ever permanent frown and something else. Worry.

"Where's... Where's my baby?"

"He's fine. Out of danger." His hands reached for a new set of bandages, he took your arm gently and began replacing the bandages himself, some were stained in a fresh layer of blood.

The silence fell upon you both until he decided to break it.

"You... were brave. We still don't know what that creature was, yet you didn't hesitate to fight back."

"It was going for my son... If I would've got there a second too late..." Voice broke and eyes filled up with tears.

The knot only tightened around his throat upon remembering the anomaly alarm in your world and saw you fighting for your son's life. He didn't think twice before jumping into action.

"The anomaly was terminated."

Terminated, not contained.

"I see"

"Your safety is all that matters to... this organization"

To me

You nodded

"Thanks."

----

He had learned that you were a single parent thanks to Jessica. Something he had trouble understanding sometimes. How could a man abandon his own family? He'd give everything to have one more chance and at least make things right, he wouldn't interfere with Gabriella, no matter how much he'd like to, just to keep her safe and alive.

But seeing you fighting for your son, made that side of him he thought buried forever to claw back full force on him. You were a great mother that wouldn't hesitate to attack and lash out at everything that menaced your son. It was the last straw for him.

----

A couple of months had gone by since your incident, and as a retribution you had decided to do a small gathering. Not only to say thanks to them, but to also celebrate your son's birthday.

Wounds were properly healed thanks to Miguel's attention and cares. Music echoed through your apartment. You weren't sure he'd show up, but the invitation was delivered to him.

Your son was having the time of his life as Peter and Jess played with him. Mayday was such a great play date and everyone seemed to have a great time. A portal was open to your kitchen and Miguel stepped out. Suit underneath civilian clothes. It was weird to see him out of the blue and red suit you were always used to see.

"Hey" You smiled and he placed a little present in your hands.

"Hope he likes it."

"I'm sure he will, thanks."

Your smile turned bashful as he leaned on the kitchen counter. Your place seemed normal, cozy even. Full with your son and you pictures. One was cut out and the only trace of a man existing in your life was the forgotten hand you were oblivious in cutting out. And even so, he seemed unsure since his fingers were barely touching you or your son.

"Here." You offered a plate full of food, which he took and scarfed down.

"When was the last time you actually ate?"

His eyes locked on yours, wide by the sudden question.

"There is more if you want to."

"I don't want to overstep-"

"The rest already had their portion. And I frankly went a bit overboard with it. So it's fine."

Your baby's laughter roared from the other side, earning you a chuckle.

"I'm... sorry though"

"For?"

"Him, calling you that. I know what happened and I'm sure it's not nice to just-"

"Couldn't blame a baby. Is it... ok for me to ask what happened to the father?"

"He just decided that we weren't enough for him. So he went for a new one. Away from us."

His eyebrows knit deeper and a light scowl drew in his face.

"But, it's fine. It's less of a burden knowing that you don't have to raise another man child."

He chuckled and nodded

"You're a great mother." You served him another plate but stopped when the corner of his mouth was doused in sauce. Giggling you reached for napkin and got in your tip toes.

"Excuse me" You wiped his mouth and smiled, "Sorry, can't help it"

His hand went to the back of your nape and leaned down for a kiss.

"Lo siento..." (Im sorry)

It was something that felt out of his character, he knew much, but it couldn't be helped. You had come like a little storm that turned into a hurricane in his heart. And that harrowing night where he saw you fighting with everything you had, only grounded him into allowing himself to feel and experience for once.

You got in your tip toes again and pulled him down for a kiss. There was no words needed, just a look of mutual understanding and complicity between the both. A kiss in the palm of your hand sealed up the implicit deal.

You were his now.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Spider person reader #t writes✨#miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv angst #miguel atsv

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permanentswaps · 2 months

Text

Nonno’s Globetrotting Adventure

Part One

I sat in my modest apartment, the weight of my years heavy upon my frail shoulders. My once-strong body now betrayed me, confined to a wheelchair as age and illness took their toll. But despite my body, I still felt young at heart. And, more importantly, I had a burning desire to experience the world beyond the confines of my small Italian town before my time was up.

One day, my grandson Nico came to visit. Although it feels weird to say about my grandson, Nico is a very attractive young man.

He’s currently working as a waiter while pursing his dream of getting signed by a modeling agency in Milan. While Nico certainly has the looks to get signed, he seems to lack the discipline and patience needed to succeed. Every time he comes close, he finds a way to sabotage his chances – oversleeping for a final callback, not bothering to dress nice enough, always something.

Seeing that Nico was struggling, I had an idea for how to help us both get what we wanted.

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Nico said. “You want to use my body to travel the world, while I stay here in yours?”

“Exactly,” I replied. “I know it sounds strange, but think about it. You’re young and full of energy, it’s really the only way I could see some sights before I pass.”

“But how would it even work?” he said.

“I have these enchanted necklaces. If we both wear them at the same time, we’ll swap bodies. And then, when the summer is over, we can switch back by both removing the necklaces,” I explained.

“Wow, that’s… That’s a lot to take in, Nonno,” he said.

“I know it’s unconventional, but I would be willing to pay you double what you would make from waiting tables over the summer. That way, you would have a cushion to focus full time on landing a modeling gig when you get back. And I’d be sure to take a bunch of pictures for you while I’m away to help build up your portfolio.”

“I don’t know, that’s a great offer, but I’m still not sure.”

“Well, let’s try now and see how you feel,” I said, quickly clasping the necklace around his neck before he could say anything.

Then I threw on my own. I felt my soul rush out of me and slam into my grandson. Standing up tall and taking a deep breath, I felt my strong muscles. Then I looked down at my hands and saw thick veins. Damn, I hadn’t felt this good in years.

Sensing some reticence from Nico, I quickly said “Oh! Thank you so much Nico, it really means the world to me.” Hoping to guilt trip him before he could say anything.

Clearly still worried, he tried to play it off and said, “Alright Nonno, you’re welcome.”

Taking in this body, I snapped this photo on the way to my new home:

Part Two

The first stop on my world tour was New York City. Since I was a little boy, I had always dreamed of visiting America, but I had never gotten the chance.

As I stepped out of the metro and up to ground level, I couldn’t help but stare at the skyscrapers touring over me. Walking down the street, I could tell that guys and girls were checking me out, which was a new feeling. Sure, I was attractive when I was younger, thats part of where Nico gets it from. But even then, I’d never really gotten these types of looks back in the day, especially not from such hot guys … I think I like it.

At the youth hostel, I met a bunch of really cool guys – we hung out in a crew and went to do all the iconic landmarks like Times Square, Central Park, and the Statue of Liberty.

Walking through Midtown one of the guys, Adi, shouted to me, “Hey Sal, check this out!” as we turned a corner, revealing a perfect view of the Empire State Building. I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight, feeling a sense of awe wash over me.

Adi slapped me on the back, grinning widely. "Pretty awesome, huh?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's incredible. I never thought I'd get to see it in person."

We bar-hopped around the city together, sharing stories and laughter late into the night. At one point, we stumbled upon a street performer playing the guitar, his soulful melodies filling the air with a sense of nostalgia. Adi nudged me with his elbow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sal, you ever played an instrument?"

I shook my head. "No, never had the chance."

Adi grinned. "Well, there's no time like the present. Grab that guitar and let's see what you've got!"

With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, I hesitantly approached the street performer, who handed me his guitar with a friendly smile. As I strummed the strings and attempted to mimic the chords he had been playing, I felt a sense of exhilaration wash over me. Despite my lack of experience, the music flowed through me, filling me with a sense of joy and freedom I had never known before.

The guys cheered me on, clapping and cheering as I played. In that moment, I felt alive in a way I hadn't in years. It was a feeling I never wanted to end.

I made sure to snap some more selfies of myself, and get my new bros to take some shots for my modeling portfolio too:

After bidding farewell to the bustling streets of New York, I traveled westward. From the majestic mountains of the Rockies to the tranquil plains of the Midwest, each destination had its own unique charm.

But it was in California, with its sun-kissed beaches and sprawling landscapes, that I truly felt at home. As I walked for what seemed like endless miles along the rugged coastline, the salty breeze tousling my hair and the warmth of the sun on my skin, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded me.

With each step, I felt the strength and vitality of Nico's body coursing through me. I would’ve never been able to do this trip in my own body. Gone were the aches and pains of old age, replaced by a sense of boundless energy. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow meant to be, me in Nico's youthful body.

Part Three

After about a month of traveling, I found myself in India. While I hadn’t really though about traveling there before, so many people had recommended it to me as my next stop. So I decided, why not check it out.

Arriving in Mumbai, I checked into my hostel and made a conscious decision to introduce myself as Nico, not Salvatore, this time. While my fellow travelers were none the wiser, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement every time someone addressed me by my new name. It made feel even more at home in this body than I had in California.

Among the eclectic group at the hostel, one stood out to me – Emilio. Another Italian adventurer like myself, Emilio had a warm smile and an easy charm that immediately put me at ease. With his curly hair and striking green eyes, Emilio was undeniably handsome, and I found myself drawn to him in a way I hadn't expected. We spent our days exploring the bustling streets of Mumbai, immersing ourselves in the sights, sounds, and flavors of the city, and going to some nearby hotsprings.

One fateful night, after returning from a night out on the town, Emilio found himself locked out of his bunk. Immediately, I offered him a spot in my private room, and to my delight, he accepted without hesitation.

Since it was so hot in Mumbai, we decided to strip down to just our underwear. As we lay sharing my small bed, I feel his hand trace up my inner thigh. My breathing getting heavier, Emilio decides to increase the pressure of his strokes. In reponse, I reach over to his thigh and work my way up to his cock, which I can feel is massive. That was all the sign he needed.

Emilio gets up and splits my legs, now rubbing both of them and playing with my waistband. As he does that, he also leans over and begins sucking my nipples. While this wouldn’t have done anything for my old body, Nico’s nipples are sensitive as hell.

“Fuckkkk” I said in a low grunting whisper.

As he switched over from one nipple to the other, Emilio then reached into my trunks and began jerking my uncut dick. Eventually, he flips me over and pulls down my underwear before taking off his own. I can feel his cock now teasing between my ass cheeks. The anticipation is agonizing as I wait for him to put it in.

He reaches underneath me and pulls up my chest so that I am on my hands and knees. Nibbling on my ear he whispers “you’re the fucking sexiest guy i’ve ever seen,” as he shoves his 25cm cock inside me.

Thrusting in and out of me, he uses the hand that he has across my waist to play with my nipples again, which drives me crazy. Before long, I feel pressure growing, and without him even touching my cock, I feel myself shoot my load across the bed.

Smirking at me as I turn my head around, Emilio takes his fingers, runs it through my seed, before then showing those same fingers into his mouth. He then lifts up his arm, flexes his biceps for me, which makes me tigthen my hole. The tighthness is too much for him and he shoots his entire load inside me. We collapse onto the bed, his cock still inside, where it stays for the rest of the night.

From that night on, Emilio and I became inseparable. We decided to travel together for the rest of our journey, visiting South Africa, Kenya, and Egypt before finally finding ourselves in Greece at the end of the summer.

The beaches of Greece were a paradise. We spent our days basking in the warm Mediterranean sun, swimming in the azure sea, and indulging in leisurely walks along the shore. In the evenings, we treated ourselves to sumptuous dinners at quaint seaside tavernas, savoring the flavors of Greek cuisine and the company of each other.

One night towards the end of our time in Greece, over a sunset dinner, Emilio turned to me with a serious expression.

“These past few weeks have been beyond anything I could have imagined,” Emilio began, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “I've had the time of my life, Nico, and I don't want it to end when we return to Italy.”

His words echoed the sentiments that had been swirling in my own mind, and I felt a rush of anticipation at what he might say next. Meeting his gaze, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this man who had become so dear to me.

"Me neither," I replied, my heart pounding in my chest as I gazed longingly into his eyes.

With a determined look, Emilio took a deep breath before continuing, "Will you be my boyfriend?"

The question hung in the air between us, charged with the weight of all that we had shared and all that was yet to come. And in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty what my answer would be.

“Yes, of course,” I replied, a smile spreading across my face as I reached out to take his hand in mine. “I've been waiting for you to ask since the night we met in India.”

He looked at me, his eyes glistening, before pulling me in for a deep, passionate kiss.

Part Four

Eventually, Emilio and I made our way back to Italy. We'd been back about a week, and I was eager to share my adventures and introduce Emilio to the rest of my family, which I planned to do at dinner tonight. However, there was a significant problem: none of them knew about the body swap. I hadn’t spoken to the real Nico since I'd left three months ago, but I'd see him tonight. I knew what I was going to do, but I didn’t know how it would go over.

Walking hand in hand, we approached the familiar doorstep of my family's house. I could feel Emilio’s nerves radiating, but I squeezed his hand reassuringly, confident that my family would adore him as much as I did. Stepping into the warm embrace of my family, I proudly introduced Emilio to each and every one of them.

My mother’s (formerly my daughter) eyes lit up with delight as she embraced Emilio warmly. "Oh, it's so wonderful to finally meet you, Emilio! Nico has spoken so highly of you."

Emilio returned her embrace, a smile playing on his lips. "Grazie, signora. It's truly an honor to meet you all."

My father clapped Emilio on the back, a jovial twinkle in his eye. "Welcome to the family, Emilio! Nico here has been a bit of a handful lately, but it seems like you've got him under control."

We all shared a laugh at my father's jest, and Emilio's cheeks flushed with warmth. "I'm doing my best, signore," he replied, earning a nod of approval from my father.

As we sat around the dinner table, sharing stories of our travels and adventures, Emilio chimed in with anecdotes of his own, effortlessly weaving himself into the fabric of our family dynamic. With each passing moment, I could see my family growing fonder of him.

As we sat around the dinner table, I asked, "Hey, where’s Nonno?"

My mother's expression softened with concern as she replied, "He's in bed, nico. He's been resting a lot lately."

A pang of guilt tugged at my heart as I excused myself from the table, my footsteps heavy with apprehension as I made my way upstairs. "Nonno," I said softly, approaching his bedside with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I need to talk to you."

"I am so relieved you’re back," he replied weakly, his voice raspy with exhaustion, "but, why did you call me that?"

Taking a deep breath, I summoned the courage to tell him. "I... I met a guy," I began, my words faltering slightly as I struggled to find the right way to express myself. "I've never felt such a deep connection before, and I need to see where it leads."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "But... what about our agreement?" he asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"I know, Nonno, and I'm sorry," I replied, my heart heavy with guilt. "But I can't ignore how I feel. I hope you understand."

Anger flared in his eyes. "You can’t do this to me," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's not fair."

With a sudden surge of frustration, Nico ripped off his necklace, the enchanted chain clattering to the floor with a finality that echoed through the room. "I want to swap back right now," he demanded, his gaze locking onto the necklace that now hung around my neck.

I leaned in towards my old body, my guilt giving way to slight confidence as I made my declaration. "I understand it's hard to accept, Nonno, but this is my life now," I asserted, my tone laced with a sense of superiority.

With a swift motion, he reached for the necklace around my neck, his fingers trembling with desperation. But as he tore it away, his expression twisted with shock as he realized that nothing happened.

I looked at him with a face of pity. “It’s not going to work,” I said.

"I melted down the necklace and had it made it into a bunch of different pieces of jewelry while I was in India," I confessed.

His eyes widened in disbelief, his feeble grasp on the situation slipping away with each passing moment. "You... you did what?" he stammered, his voice tinged with incredulity.

"I wanted an insurance policy so that I could ensure nothing would stop me from pursuing Emilio," I continued, my resolve unwavering.

"I knew you probably wouldn’t think to take off the necklace until I cam back. So I took the opportunity to melt mine down into jewelry that I can wear all the time and nobody can just accidentally take off or force me to take off – earrings, bracelets … cock piercing. Emilio thought they were so hot."

"You couldn't get them off me even if you were in the best shape of your life – and well, now I am in the best shape of your life and you’re in the worst shape of mine," I added with a touch of irony.

"I’m sorry, but this is my life now," I concluded, my voice firm. "I hope you can understand."

With that, I turned and walked back downstairs to rejoin my family and my beautiful boyfriend, leaving behind a bewildered Nico in my former body, grappling with the weight of my decisions.

Epilogue:

A week later, I get a call from my mom early in the morning while I am still in bed. Nonno passed away in his sleep. I feel a pang of sorrow mixed with relief, this body was officially mine forever.

I roll back over to see Emilio sleeping peacefully beside me. Leaning over, I gently kiss him on the lips, waking him from his slumber. He stirs and without opening his sleepy eyes, a soft smile graces his lips and he pulls me down into a big hug. In that moment, as I feel his skin on mine, I know with absolute certainty that this is exactly where I belong.

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lovebugism · 10 months

Note

I would love to request a drabble for punchy x Steve where maybe they're hanging out together with the group for the first time and punchys a little nervous to see how they'll react to see seeing as her whole vibe is so different from every other of Steves exes basically lol

i had so much fun with this request!! hope you like it, anon! from the punchy x steve universe — the one where steve comforts you when you're too scared to tell his friends about your relationship (1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Steve’s been waiting all night to kiss you.

He knew inviting the whole gang over for a swim would put a wrench in his plans to love on you all night, but he didn’t think it would be this hard. Not holding you feels a little like a knife in his side. It hurts worse than every beating he’s ever taken, combined.

So he doesn’t waste a second to sneak out behind you when you leave for a smoke break. He waits exactly five minutes before following you out through the front gate. He finds you sitting on the hood of your car — a pretty little thing in all black sat upon a rusted tin can.

You’re wearing a knit coverup over a one-piece bathing suit. It's about three sizes too big for you. The puffy sleeve falls to your elbow when you take a drag of your cigarette, then crawls back up to your wrist when you flick the end of it. The staunch smell of nicotine contrasts with the warmer scent of a dewy summer night.

“Think I can bum a smoke from you… buddy?” Steve asks when he climbs the hood to sit next to you.

The nickname is so obviously pointed. You laugh, high and airy. Smoke billows from your lips as you giggle.

Dustin asked if you were dating earlier that night — deep blue eyes twinkling with hopeful embers you hated to snuff out. “Sorry, kid, but we’re not dating,” you fibbed in response, patting Steve on his shoulder. “We’re just a couple of best buds, aren’t we, bab— I mean, Steve?”

It wasn’t your best work by any means, but it got everyone off your back. That was all you really wanted to do, anyway.

“Always, Stevie,” you singsong as you pass him the lit cigarette between your fingers.

“Think it would be too much to ask for a kiss, too?” the boy wonders with raised brows and sparkling honey eyes.

You melt.

“Never,” you hum with a shake of your head, already gravitating towards him. You had a tendency to do that a lot — to drift his way like he was a magnet compared to the metal of you. He welcomes you just the same, pressing his mouth to yours like his lips were made to do it.

The kiss is chaste and innocuous, gentle with the makings of a man who’s wanted to kiss you for several agonizing hours.

Your lips click in protest when they part. He smiles as he watches your heavy eyes flutter slowly open. You’re met with his pretty pink lopsided smile. “Think we should tell ‘em tonight?”

You lean away from him, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth as you ponder his question.

You’d love to tell everyone about Steve, more than just your core group of friends. You want to shout your adoration for him from the rooftops, let it sing across the universe and back. But love was more complex than simple words, and the implication of that terrified you.

After a few moments, you shake your head — lazily and with your nose scrunched.

“What do you mean?” Steve laughs. The sound is bright enough to illuminate the starry evening. It’s bright yellow compared to the velvet blue sky. The boy rests his weight on one of his arms and gestures with the other. “We’ve gotta tell ‘em sometime, babe. ‘Cause if they find out on their own, I’m gonna be the one dealing with the bitching.”

“I just like not having to talk about it,” you confess with a quiet shrug. Your chin turns to your shoulder when you look over at him, meeting his glittering gaze with a meeker one. “I like just being with you and not having to talk about the… gross, icky, lovey stuff.”

“The gross icky lovey stuff?” Steve echoes with jettisoned brows.

“Yeah.”

“Like what?” he deadpans, bringing the lit cigarette to his mouth. “How in love with you I am?”

“Exactly,” you joke back with a feigned disgust.

Steve scoffs out a laugh as he hands the stick back to you. Smoke leaves his mouth in a wispy grey cloud.

You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, but don’t move to take a hit of it. He knows it’s something deeper, then — something more you want to say. You keep it inside and get all in your head about it, though. Your eyes glaze over as you look off into the distance. Steve can read you like a damn book.

“What else?” the boy blurts.

Your eyes go wide as they flit back to his. “Huh?”

“You look like you wanna say something else.”

You blink at him for a moment, then shake your head innocently.

Steve reaches out a hand to nudge your shoulder. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his pink lips. “Come on. Just say it,” he urges gently. “Lay it on me, babe. I can take it.”

You laugh in response. It’s halfhearted, though, and your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you sigh with the same barely-there grin. Your eyes turn away from his, gaze going glassy as your stare turns to the darkening sky. “It’s just… The last person your friends saw you with was Nancy. And I know Robin is well up to date with all your other flings, ‘cause she said, and I quote, ‘he certainly has a type.’”

“Well, that’s just Robin,” the boy shrugs with pinched brows. “She’s an idiot. Sometimes she just kinda says stuff.”

“I’m just saying that… I’m not your type, you know?” you confess sheepishly, like it’s some deeply hidden secret. You have no idea it’s why Steve loves you so much — not despite how different you are, but because of it.

“I know,” the boy nods, meeting your timid glance with a bright grin.

“And I’m just scared that… that they’ll think it’s weird. You know, that we’re… together.”

“It is weird,” Steve affirms with a chuckle. “That’s why it’s so cool!”

Your brows pinch. “…Really?”

“Yeah! I fucking love being your boyfriend, babe! And they’re gonna love you being my girlfriend!”

He says it all with wide eyes and pink smiles, so confident like it’s all obvious to him. He makes it sound so simple, smoothing out all your buzzing, complex insecurities with ease.

You scrunch your nose in response. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he scoffs with a firm nod, then tilts his head to his shoulder. “Well... Robin will be a little jealous, probably. Dustin, too. And Eddie’s already got a whole complex about it, so…”

“So they’ll hate it,” you summarize with a smile.

“They'll hate all the gooey, icky, lovey stuff, sure. But they’ll love you— I mean, they already do. Way more than they love me.”

“You sound very sure about all this, Harrington.”

“It’s impossible not to love you, Punchy,” Steve confesses, growing suddenly very tender. “Everything you do— it’s like you’re made of, fucking— flowers or something.”

“Flowers?” you giggle.

The boy huffs. “I’m just saying that you’re too perfect not to fall in love with, okay? They’re gonna love you because it’s against human nature not to, you know?”

You don’t believe him.

You know he’s not lying, but you don’t believe him.

But rather than arguing, you reach out a hand for the one propping up his weight. You rest your palm along his knuckles and smile. Your skin buzzes when you touch him — Love? Euphoria? A schoolgirl giddiness? You’re not sure.

You just know happiness when you see him, touch him.

Steve Harrington is a happily ever after.

Yours, hopefully.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #punchy x steve #bug's summer fic fest!

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 11 months

Text

WORK CRUSH

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you work at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and George realizes he fancies you Warnings: mention of kissing? Note: bit long

you had been working at the twin's shop for a few month now, ever since you got fired from your last job at a café.

you had gone into the shop and started talking to the Fred, seen as though you knew each other from school, but you were in the year below them.

you were an accidental victim to one of their pranks that was meant for Flitwick. they saw very apologetic and made sure you were alright and made it their mission to make it up to you, which they did.

so when you were talking, the subjects of jobs were unavoidable

"this shop is amazing, you should be very proud of yourself" you laughed

"thank you, I am, It's the best job. what did you get up to?" he asked politely

"I got a small job at a café in Hogsmeade" you smiled awkwardly

"how's that going?"

you shook your head, pursing your lips "to be honest, not good, I got fired a week ago" you looked down sheepishly

"really?" he gasped lightly, you looked up at him and saw his big smile, his eyebrows raised.

"yeah." you nodded your head, your eyes closed

"you know, George and I were thinking lately that there isn't enough of us working here, it's sort of.. understaffed, i mean it's only the two of us, and most days we don't get lunch breaks" he explained, his smile widening

"if you want, I would -and I'm sure George too- would love to have you work here with us" he informed

"really? you would hire me?" you raised your eyebrows

"yeah" he nodded enthusiastically "you know what, you meet me and George tomorrow at three broomsticks and we'll talk more about it"

"yeah, of course, thank you!" you replied quickly.

the next day you went to meet with them and it went great, George seemed happy to hire you as much as Fred did and at the end they said you'd start Monday, and you did

George watched you as your worked, he was helping a kid figure out what he wanted as you stood at the cash register, taking money and giving change and smiling at the little kids faces when they laughed at their products

he found himself staring at you a lot, you were a distraction from his job, but he wouldn't rather anyone else work there.

"mister? will these turn me into a death eater?" the little kid by his side asked him, making him look away from you and down to the boy.

he looked down at what he was holding, seeing the edible dark marks

"no buddy, it won't make you into a death eater" he answered amused by his soft voice

the boy smiled and seemed to relax "well I want this then"

"ok well go down to the counter and the pretty lady at the front will check that out for you, ok?" George told the boy.

the boy nodded and went off, running to the counter to join the long line.

"pretty lady at the front, ay?" he heard Fred say from behind him

George turned to his brother and rolled his eyes at his smirk.

"what? can't I call my friend pretty?" he questioned

"oh but is she really just a friend to you George?" Fred smirked

"yes" George responded quickly

Fred glared at him knowingly the grin on his face growing

"shove off Fred" George grumbled, walking off to go help other customers.

Fred snickered to himself before going to help a kid get something off a shelf.

George often found himself watching you as you worked, he told himself it was to make sure you weren't making mistakes or if you needed help.

Fred, Of course knew it was more than that, he knew his twin brother fancied you.

but Fred also knows that George is helpless when it came to realising and acting upon his feelings, you weren't the only girl he's seemed to like.

but you were definitely the girl he's liked the most, how does Fred know this?

first of all, it's a twin thing

but it's the way he looks at you, it's the way he asks you for help even when you've finished for the day, the way he laughs when he's with you when nothing is funny.

it's the way George's face turns red when he's around you and the way he fiddles with things when you're there.

and Fred saw the way you looked at George too, you would steal glances at him when he's not looking and smile up at him when he's distracted.

Fred saw the way you fixed yourself when you saw George coming, you would straighten your posture and pat down your clothes.

so Fred wanted to help, he wanted George to notice and acknowledge his feelings for you.

so when closing up the shop that night, George was at the counter, counting the money and splitting it while you talked to him, your elbow on the desk, using it to hold up your chin as you leaned

Fred was out the back- the workshop, they called it. figuring out what they needed to brew up.

"alright, here you go" he heard George sigh

"thanks, see you in the morning," you said "bye Fred!" you called out

Fred popped out to say bye to you and you left, George locked the door and Fred looked over at the love potions, an idea popping into his head.

"hey can you finish up back, I gotta head up and order some things" Fred asked George, making him turn to him and nod

Fred headed for the stairs and waited until George went into the workshop, the door staying open.

Fred smirked and snuck over to the love potions, opening a few bottles before running upstairs to order ingredients

George was finished up in the back when he felt a particular scent hit his nose, making it tingle

it was the smell he loved and craved, it smelt exactly like you.

he turned around as the scent of your perfume filled the room.

he knew you left, but you might've snuck in because you forgot something

he called out your name, heading to the door to head back in the shop, the smell getting stronger

"Y/n?" he called out again, looking around the shop

he didn't see you anywhere, and the door was still locked. leaving him puzzled. he looked around again and brushed it off, thinking he imagined it.

he turned off the lights and head for the stairs, passing the glowing pink flower display that held the love potions, the smell of your perfume almost burning his nose.

he looked down at the bottles and noticed some of them were open.

George picked them up and smelt it, smelling you. he closed it and read the back

smell what attracts you! he read in the pretty pink font.

it clicked it his head, it hit him hard. he fancied you? he began to feel dizzy as the smell intoxicated him.

he closed the rest of the bottles that were open and the small seemed to fade away, letting George breath

he stood there for a while, deep in thought,

deep in thought about you

he blinked and decided to get sleep. he laid down and as soon as his head hit his pillow he was drowned in a deep sleep, dreaming about you, with him

the next morning he got ready for work, yearning for your arrival

and Fred could sense it, he smiled as he saw George's grin stay on his face all morning.

"what are you smiling at?" he questioned his twin, making George's grin falter, not realising his upturned lips.

"nothing" he shook his head

"really?" he smirked, giving George a knowing look

"just in a good mood" George shrugged

"Y/n just arrived" Fred lied, seeing the way George immediately turned to the front door, a look of anticipation in his eyes

"shove off Fred" George grumbled before going to the back to brew up some products

everything was ready for opening so he decided to go up to the flat to make himself tea.

George heard the door open and he left the potion, casting a spell to make it pour in the vials itself

he walked out to the front to see you with your bag

"good morning George" you smiled.

a lump formed in his throat and he failed to speak

his faced turned red and went hot as he felt his hands get clammy

you noticed his flushed state and went closer to him

"George? are you ok?" you asked

he swallowed the lump and nodded his head

"yeah sorry, Good morning" he replied

you smiled and went to the back to hang up your bag. you came out and went to him

"what do you want me to do?" you questioned, looking around the shop

"you can help help me stock up the love potions" Fred spoke as he walked down the stairs.

you smiled and looked up at George who grinned crookedly

you walked to the back, Fred right behind you. he shut the door behind you and you looked for the boxes of love potions

"so, do you like working here?" he interrogated curiously

you turned to him and beamed

"yeah, It's great" you answered happily

"what do you think of George?" he smirked

"He's fine?" you frowned, puzzled by his words

Fred grabbed a bottle and accidentally dropped it, making the fumes fill the room.

while Fred didn't smell anything, you on the other hand got overwhelmed by the scent of George's cologne

"bloody hell" he sighed "you go stock up, I'll clean this up"

your gaze stayed on the liquid, the pink heart bubbles flowing up to reach your nose. the scent making you feel dizzy.

"Y/n? you alright?" Fred asked, knowing exactly what's going on.

you averted your eyes from the spill to Fred.

"yeah, sorry, just frightened me" you responded quickly. the smell still chasing your nose. you picked up the box and headed to the front to stock them on the display.

George stared as you talked to a few male customers, ones that seem to be around your age.

it annoyed George and distracted him from his job. And Fred, who was walking past leaned into George

"You should tell her" he whispered before walking away, not letting George get the Chance to protest against the idea

George sighed as he looked back at you smiling at the boys.one of them getting a little too close for George's liking.

He clenched his jaw before turning away to get back to work

he heard your laugh from across the shop and fought the urge to interfere.

you were allowed to talk to other guys, you didn't belong to George, you weren't even his girlfriend.

you were his employee.

so he had no right to feel the jealousy bubbling in his stomach or the pain in his heart when he heard your little squeal.

he went to the other side of the shop, to the back to occupy himself until the boys would leave

George has been trying his best to flirt with you the rest of the week, he would go up to you and make you laugh with stories from school.

he would go out of his way to make sure he was by your side and help you when you seemed to struggle

he knew he wasn't the best at talking to women he likes but the way you smiled and laughed at him made him believe he had a chance.

it was a quiet day in the shop, the weather was cold and wet, the rain from the night before dripping from the pipes.

so George didn't have to worry about having to help anyone, by the time you started working there, most people already knew where everything was, except when things moved or they had never been there before.

so George stayed with you the whole day, making you laugh between scanning the products.

"then me and Fred decided that we just wanted to make the dream real, people thought it was a bit childish but we knew that this was what we wanted to do" George jabbered

"well I'm very proud of you two, not many people have the guts to chase their dreams, I admire your ambitions"

that made George happy, you were proud of him, you admired him.

in that moment George thought you might've liked him the same why he did you.

"thank you" he replied softly, his smile widening as he looked down at you

it was nearing closing time and it began pouring with rain, the thunder and lightning soon after.

the shop got even quieter as parents ushered their kids to hurry up and buy their products so they can get home.

you were at the register scanning the last few products, while George watched from behind you

when Fred came out from the workshop

"George I need help" he yelled out to him

George groaned quietly before going to his brother.

Fred pulled George in, shutting the door behind them

"are you gonna tell her?" he asked his younger twin

"tell who what?" George scratched the back of his neck

"don't play that game" Fred crossed his arms

"I don't know what your talking about" George shrugged

"really? so I can go out there and ask her out on a date?" Fred huffed with a coy smile

George swallowed deeply, his hand subconsciously balling up to make a fist

"go ahead then" George blinked, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried not to curse his brother out

"fine" Fred rolled his eyes, walking to the door slowly, waiting for George to stop him, but he didn't

Fred walked through the door and shut it behind him, waiting a second before opening it again, seeing George by the cauldron, probably wanting to start brewing something

Fred shut the door and marched up to him, looking at him like he has two heads

"what was that?" Fred spat

"what did she say?" George questioned quietly

"I didn't ask her you idiot," Fred answered "why didn't you try to stop me?"

"why would her? if you like her then ask her" George spoke softly

"I don't like her" Fred sighed in disappointment

George turned to his twin with a deadpan expression "then what was the point of this, Fred?"

"for you to stop me? I know you fancy her so why didn't you try to stop me?" Fred slapped his arm

"what do you want from me?" George took a deep breath, looking at the ground

"to tell her, I know she fancies you too so what's stopping you?" Fred lied.

"how would you know that?"

Fred didn't know, he assumed

"she told me. we were talking yesterday and she told me" the older twin blinked

George believed him, and he was excited, Fred could see the redness rising on his brothers cheeks and smiled, leaving to room, going to the flat leaving it to you and George to close the shop

George stood there, thinking when he heard the rain and thunder from outside starting again, he came out and looked out the window. no one was in the shop other than you and him.

you were cleaning up the counter, getting ready to leave

the first lightning strike of the night had flashed and didn't stop

he went up to you and cleared his throat

he stood behind you, waiting for you to turn around.

you did, and you were met with his frame towering over your own, making you jump, not knowing he was right there.

"merlin, George, don't do that" you squealed

you made your way past him to the back to get your bag, but he stopped you

"you're really pretty" he informed you. you looked up at him with a smile, feeing the heat rise to your cheeks as he complimented you

"thank you, George" you beamed

you continued to go to the back, you took your bag off the hook on the wall and turned around to him cornering you.

he leaned his hand against the wall and stopped you from moving

his gaze moved down to your lips and stayed there, you stared at him while he slightly licked his lips.

he took your time to examine his face, it was more defined than Fred's. he also had more freckles and his eyes were softer, holding more emotion.

you counted the dots on his face that decorated his face, going through his cheeks and across his nose.

he was gorgeous, and the close proximity he forced you into made you feel weak

he continued staring at you. his gaze was gentle and held a sense of longing.

"hello" you broke the silence awkwardly, it made him chuckle

it was a deep and cocky chuckle. it was sexy

he reached up and stroked your hair, looking at you with pure love and care.

"you're so pretty" he whispered

that was the second time he said that in the span of almost 4 minutes.

"George" you muttered when he inclined closer to you

"yes?" he murmured, you gulped down a lump in your throat and looked down at his lips for a second before looking away from him all together

he took a step closer to you, and you could feel body heat radiating against yours

when he realised you had nothing to say he spoke up himself

"you should stay the night, wouldn't want you walking home in this weather" he mumbled

his head bent down to rest of yours, the warmth of his breath blowing onto your lips

"we have a guest room" he breathed, he seemed to be panting

he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips on yours, you could barely call it a kiss.

his he sunk his teeth gently into your bottom lip before letting go.

he groaned almost inaudible

you felt heat rise between your legs as he grabbed your hips

"ok" you replied, almost silently, afraid that if you speak to loud he'll disappear and this would all be a dream

he smiled before smashing his lips on yours, as if he was hungry for you.

he held your hand and held it against the wall.

he hummed against your lips before letting go, taking your hand off the wall and dragging you upstairs.

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

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley x fem #george weasley #fluff #imagines #oneshot #fred and george #x fem!reader #please request #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

Note

skz taking off their jacket to put on ur lap bc u look uncomfortable headcannon pls

them taking off their jacket because you’re uncomfortable ♡

a/n. i hope you enjoy it and sorry you had to wait for so long. however, don’t send multiple people the same request. it’s rude;; writers are not vending machines ;p

also while you’re here please take a look at this and vote, i’d truly appreciate if you did <3

warnings. people (mostly men) being weird :(

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

this man has spidey senses, i don’t know how to explain it any other way

you were accompanying him to one of the events and your stylist decided it’s a great idea to give you a short skirt

i mean, you looked good in it so you didn’t complain

but once the photos were over and as soon as you sat down, you felt something warm on your lap

chan took off his blazer and sent you a warm smile

“your skirt would definitely roll up, so here you go” he hummed and you just couldn’t help but grin how thoughtful he is <3

because of that you were also a bit warmer

and!! and!! this is a perfect opportunity to hold hands under his blazer because no one will see it :D

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you had the cutest outfit for your date with minho since the weather was warm and sunny :D

cute top, little purse, mini skirt, mary janes in matching colors ofc <3

you could see there was something on lino’s mind once he saw you but he said you look very pretty and you headed off to the café

well, unfortunately it was filled with teenage boys because it was saturday.

while minho went to the bathroom you stood in the line wondering what to order, you heard some mean comments coming from the boys :(

you ordered something for you and your boyfriend, your mood a bit down

and let me tell you minho sensed that the moment he stepped into the room

before he sat down next to you, he took off his jacket and put it on your lap whilst glaring at the young boys

they actually looked frightened tbh and i’m not even surprised

you forgot about the situation because of lino, he kept cheering you up and genuinely you just had fun

and got a bit flustered because of his gesture

but when you were about to leave, minho excused you and walked to the boys saying a word or two

you’ll never know what that was because your boyfriend said - and i quote - “it was just a free lesson for them that might be helpful in the future”

whatever that was…

you kept his jacket wrapped around your waist (and his hand on it too)

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

going with bin to the gym became a normal thing in your relationship (because let’s be real, who wouldn’t want to go with him)

so everyone knew that they shouldn’t act inappropriate because 1) you’re dating 2) changbin is pretty terrifying 3) he’s their gym bro how could they act like that??

but one day there was a newbie

and you were casually looking cute with your ponytail and gym shorts

you kept glancing at binnie through the mirror when you noticed the guy was staring at you and once your bf saw him…

you could swear the whole gym went quiet

changbin walked up to you, handing you his hoodie and putting it on you

it smelled like him so you didn’t mind teehee

you continued your workout whilst looking in the mirror… changbin had a talk with the guy, his hand squeezing the man’s shoulder a little too tightly

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

date in a park with hyunjin = perfection

the weather was perfect so you decided to wear shorts

and you were just sitting on a bench, head resting on your boyfriend’s shoulder and watching the dogs play in a distance when an older lady passed you by

she made some mean comments about your outfit >:(

you pretended to ignore her, however your hands instantly covered your knees

hyunjin sighed, taking off his jacket

“i will never understand those old ladies. she’s just jealous, don’t listen to her” he scoffed and you grinned upon seeing her turning around

“she heard that, hyunnie” you whined and playfully punched his shoulder

he just let out a giggle and put his jacket on your lap, wrapping his arm around you

“so what? no one is allowed to talk bad about my beautiful girlfriend” he hummed and placed a soft kiss on your forehead :(

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

honestly he doesn’t really know what to do at first

because there’s you looking smoking’ hot in this cute skirt and he knows you felt confident at home, loving your outfit

but also there’s strong wind and even though you’re sitting down, you’re nervously holding your skirt unable to enjoy the dinner :(

“y/n, do you want my jacket? i don’t want to ruin your outfit but…” jisung stops in his track when you nod softly, warm smile on your lips

even if his jacket didn’t match the aesthetic of your clothes, at least you could hold his hand right now <3

┆彡 YONGBOK [ 용복 ]

it was supposed to be a careless day on a beach with lixie

so after having your fun in the sea you went to dry off

you laid on your back, next to felix and we’re about to doze off when you heard some girls gossiping about you

“…look at her boyfriend though! ah, i wouldn’t even think about wearing a bathing suit if i had…”

you pouted, trying your best not to burst out crying when felix suddenly leaned on his elbow reaching for something

“you’ll dry faster that way” he whispered and put his hoodie over your body, then pulled you closer into a hug

“thank you” you mumbled into his chest as he drew comforting shapes on your skin

after you two got home, felix gave you a whole ass lecture about how beautiful you are <3

(not to mention that he said a word or two to the girls when you took a nap on the beach)

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

“it’s not that warm y/n, take a jacket” was what came out of his mouth the second he saw you in shorts

well uh you didn’t take one

so minnie wanted to tease you (“i told you so🙄🙄” “now you’ll suffer i’m not giving you mine” etc etc)

he’s such a gentleman

but when you started shivering a bit, pulling your shorts down because people were staring

someone even murmured something about being an attention seeker to go out in shorts in such weather >:(

seungmin is mean but not THAT mean

he tsked and put his jacket over your lap, tucking a loose strand behind your ear

“aren’t you a little cold?” he asked, teasing smile on his lips

he placed a quick peck on your nose before pulling away

and you felt warmer (totally not due to the fact that you cheeks turned warmer after his gesture teehee) instantly

and after going on another dates where you accidentally forgot to take your jacket, seungmin started having his suspicions

but he will stay quiet just to continue flustering you <3

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

oh he’s pissed

not only your group had audio problems during your performance

but there was not enough blankets for everyone??

and so it happened you didn’t have one and it was freezing cold in your mini skirt :(

and whilst your leader offered you theirs, you shook your head as a no

suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder and before you could turn around, jeongin leaned down and placed his jacket on your lap

“you did amazing, angel. don’t worry about the difficulties, i’ll talk to them with our manager” i.n whispered and gave you a quick squeeze on the shoulder before leaving

he did in fact had a friendly chat with the venue manager but also complained abt on bubble

and he didn’t ask you to return his jacket, so some of your fans started getting suspicious after seeing you in it one day 🤭

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddenoudepression ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

Text

Distance: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @anyamcdonald @elizabeththebat

Roy isn’t looking forward to seeing your name pop up on his phone. He dreads the conversation the two of you are about to have because he knows you’ve seen the papers. He pauses in the corridor that leads to the locker room, his thumb hovering over the button to receive your call. This is not discussion he wants to have in front of all the other shitheads. He grasps the doorknob of the Boot Room instead, steeling himself for the stench before he steps inside.

The screen lights up and he sees your face. It makes something ache in his chest because despite the fact it’s only been a week, he misses you ferociously. You’re in Ireland at the current moment, researching one of the episodes for your true crime podcast and his bed has never felt so empty. He sleeps with his face pressed into your pillow. It’s pathetic.

For a moment he forgets about last night, about his bad behaviour at yet another charity event, that he was forced to attend to appease one of his endorsements. Something about Saving the Pandas or that shit. Instead, he focuses on you and how fucking beautiful you look in a peach coloured robe that leaves very little to his imagination. He wishes he was there with you, fingers untying that knot, the one that holds the whole thing together.

“Hey.” He says softly as he sits down upon the bench.

“Hi.” You return, tucking your damp hair back behind your ear. “I think you forgot to mention something when you called last night.”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?” He asks you half-heartedly.

“I’ve seen the pictures.” You inform him, your chin coming to rest upon your hand.

“You know they don’t tell the whole story.” He reminds you.

“Roy,” You say in that tone of yours, the one he fucking hates because it makes him feel like he’s being completely irrational. “You headbutted a Booker Prize Winner at a Save the Polar Bear event.”

Polar Bears, not Pandas. He fucking knew it was some kind of bear.

“No.” He corrects you. “I headbutted your ex-boyfriend because he was being a little prick.”

There’s silence between the two of you, he sees you purse your lips together and he sighs because he knows what’s coming, you’re going to ask what he said, and Roy does not want to repeat it. He would rather endure a thousand laps of the fucking pitch that recount the words that came out of that dickhead’s mouth. He doesn’t give a shit that he lost his sponsor, that he made a scene and now he’s the nation’s bad boy. All that matters is you, you knowing that he has your back no matter what.

“You’re not going to tell me what he said are you?”

“No, I’m fucking not.” He tells you, shaking his head.

To be fair he had tried to walk away, he really had but Martin just couldn’t fucking help himself. Of course, your ex had seen that picture of the two of you, the one that the papers had run of him kissing you on the doorstep. You’d managed to keep it on the downlow up until that point. He hadn’t wanted your life to get any more complicated. He had gotten pretty good at dodging the paparazzi but there must have been one camped out.

That kiss…

It had been fucking filthy. You’d ended up coming back into the house and fucking him in the hallway, you didn’t even take your dress off. It had been the day you were travelling to Ireland, and he knows you felt the same way as he did, like you were losing something. You were only going away for a few weeks but you both hate the distance. You’ve become a fixture in his life, a grounding force and Roy’s not afraid to admit that.

“Fuck Roy, I’m sorry…” You begin and he holds his hand up to cut you off because he will not tolerate you apologising for something that wasn’t your fault.

“I’m a big boy.” He tells you forcefully. “I make my own decisions and my decision was to headbutt that gobshite.”

He sees your lips twitch up into a smile and he knows he’s won you over. You know as well as he does what a prick Martin is, it’s why you broke up with him in the first place. That and the fact you caught him fucking a page three model in your bed. Some people really are just cunts.

“Now I need to know yea? Did the nun really burn down the orphanage or was it someone else?” He asks you, referring back to the case you’re working on. “Because that shit has been playing on my mind all morning.”

“You wanna hear what I have so far?” You ask him, picking up your notepad and flicking through the pages. Roy leans back against the shelves, shifting on the bench so he can get a little more comfortable because he is dying to hear the rest of this story. When he hung up with you last night, you were still working on the narrative and refused to share anything after the ad break because it was too raw.

“Yes.” He tells you. “I fucking would.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#roy kent x you #roy kent x reader #roy kent #ted lasso

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muertawrites · 2 years

Note

Bandanna anon back again, different thought this time. Ok so Eddie lives (obviously, why wouldn’t he?) but he has to go to the hospital where they shave his head in order to give him stitches and just Eddie with a buzz cut 😌 convincing Eddie you still love him without his hair 😊 Eddie growing it out and having these little ringlets that you fight him to not tease out 😍 Eddie’s hair growing back as a reminder of him healing 🥰

bandana anon i love youuuu *mluah* 😛

as a traumatized and healing bitch i love this. i 👏🏻 love 👏🏻 this 👏🏻

eddie x hopper!reader bc parallels 🥺

Your father is up before anyone else in the house, as always. You roll out of bed to find him at the kitchen table, reading the day's newspaper and nursing his second cup of coffee. Instead of saying good morning, he just grunts at you.

"How's he doing?" he asks as you help yourself to what's left in the pot.

It's an odd question, coming from him.

Jim Hopper had always hated the "him" he was referring to - the scruffy miscreant who he'd busted multiple times for vandalism, petty theft, public intoxication, possession...

He hated him even more when he found out his eldest child had fallen hard for him.

Even more when the way he found out was walking into your room one evening after he'd snuck in, finding the boy in a precarious position between your legs.

But since the earthquake, he'd softened. He saw the way Eddie looked at you, the way he risked his life to protect you, and suddenly a criminal history didn't matter as much.

He was troubled, sure. But he was good to you. He made you happy. And that was enough for Jim.

"He's okay," you reply. "Nightmares again last night. Couldn't sleep."

Your dad hums, sympathetic.

"Those'll stick around for a while."

As if on cue, the man in question emerges from your bedroom, looking as ragged and sleep deprived as he feels. He wears a gray beanie over his newly shaven head, hiding the ugly gash that lies beneath. He doesn't meet your eye, popping a cigarette into his mouth and slipping onto the back porch. You sigh.

"Still upset over his hair, huh?" Jim comments.

"Yeah," you confirm. "It, um... It reminds him of his dad, I think. How he used to make him shave it."

Your father is also familiar with the elder Munson, the crime that got him thrown into prison with a life sentence. More so with the abuse he used to inflict upon his son, since he was the one who answered many of those calls.

"Munson was a scumbag," Jim grumbles. "Hard to believe a kid as good as Eddie came from him."

You smile at the compliment, which your dad shares over the edge of his paper, pursing his lips together to try and hide it. Coffee in hand, you open the back door and join Eddie, sinking down beside him on the porch steps.

"Mornin', angel," he greets you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, keeping you warm against the spring chill. In the distance, what remains of downtown Hawkins smolders, sending ribbons of black smoke into the clear blue sky.

"How's your head doing today?" you ask.

He doesn't answer, opting instead to take a long drag of his cigarette.

"... You've gotta show me at some point."

Eddie huffs, flicking ash into the tray your father keeps on the back porch.

"You don't wanna see it," he mumbles. " 's pretty bad."

"So are the ones on your neck," you remind him. "But you let me kiss those."

He side eyes you, and you can tell he's trying to argue the sense you somehow manage to talk into him. You were the one who dragged him back through the portal when he tried to be a hero, after all.

"... You're not gonna like it," he finally admits. "I'm not... I'm not me anymore."

"You still eat Froot Loops for dinner," you contest. "That's pretty you."

He tries to fight the laugh that bubbles in his chest, the resulting smile warming your heart with just how genuine it is. You haven't seen him smile like that in far too long.

"I'm just worried you're not... You're like, serially into guys with long hair," he continues. "My hair was what got you to notice me in the first place. What if... What if you're not... What if I'm not attractive to you anymore?"

You sit up, taking his face in your hands; almost a little too aggressively, because he flinches the slightest bit in surprise.

"Eddie," you say. "Do you know what the sexiest thing about you is?"

He stares at you blankly.

"That stupid demon voice you do when you're playing a villain in a campaign," you tell him. "The over the top, snarly, borderline feral voice that comes out of you when you get really into it. It's ridiculous. And I'd be lying to you if I told you I didn't cum so hard the couple times it's come out during sex."

Eddie's eyes pop, mortified.

"I've used it during sex?"

You laugh, nodding as you lean forward to peck his lips.

"Yes. But my point is that you're goofy, and dramatic, and clever, and sweet, and so shamelessly you that this-" you pat the beanie covering his head "- doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you're safe. That you're still with me."

Eddie raises a hand to your cheek, gently running his thumb over the high point of the bone. He gazes lovingly, dreamily down at you, a bemused smile curling his lips.

"I don't deserve you," he murmurs.

"You deserve me more than anyone."

---

"Stop."

You lift the comb out of Eddie's hand, kissing him on the cheek as you do.

"They're cute. Leave them."

He tsks, snatching the comb back up when you set it on the bathroom counter, resuming the process of teasing out the ringlets his hair has started to grow into.

"It looks better longer," he growls, frustrated. "I hate my fuckin' hair."

"Can I have help?"

El appears in the doorway, holding her own set of styling tools. Her hair has also grown out quite a bit, now at the awkward length where it has to be styled every day or else look totally unpresentable. You gesture her inside, perching on the closed lid of the toilet as she sits on the floor in front of you, letting you work your older sibling magic. In a matter of minutes, her locks have been tamed; she bounds up to the mirror beside Eddie to inspect your work.

"It's coming back," she notices, looking up at him. "Your scar is almost gone."

He hums, running a contemplative finger over the raised, darkened bit of flesh peeking from his hairline. The scar runs all the way around his skull, down the back of his neck, but it's disappeared under the nest of dark brown curls that have grown in since his stint in the hospital.

He grins at her in the mirror, pointing to her wrist.

"So's yours," he notes, indicating her tattoo. "Ink's fading."

El smiles back, positively beaming. Her hand lifts to trace the bats etched above his elbow, a habit she's picked up in the months since Eddie moved in. She loves him like a brother. It makes your heart want to explode.

"I like your hair like this," she admits. "You look better than before. You're healing."

Eddie pauses, his face crumpling like he's about to start sobbing. You hide your smile behind your hand as he takes a deep breath, regaining his composure, then takes one of El's own curls between two fingers, pulling and releasing so it bounces like a spring. She giggles at him, playfully smacking his hand away.

"You're lookin' better too, short stack," he says. "Guess we're both gonna be okay."

#eddie munson #eddie asks #muerta's works #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #i had to have an eddie and el interaction i just HAD to #he'd love her #they'd adopt each other as siblings #ugh el my sweet baby angel #also eddie and hopper interactions????#i need more of them #eddie munson x hopper!reader

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Text

no doubts - jb

ೃ⁀➷ special note ❤️‍🩹 this is dedicated as a pre-birthday gift for the wonderful @808heartz ! you’re amazing and loved! happy birthday 🫶🏻

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

requested phrases:

1. “time to go home. now.”

20. “only you can make me feel like this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Getting wasted wasn’t part of your plans; at least not at the beginning of the night. You were okay with staying sober most of the times you went out with your boyfriend and his friends, but today was a bit different.

You didn’t know if it was because he was around his teammates from the England team (whom he didn’t see much due to him living abroad) or the fact that he was just having fun by himself, but you felt like Jude was slightly pushing you away from the circle that his group formed in the center of the VIP area.

You recognized it might be a bit silly to get mad at it, since you were an independent person and could have fun without him… But you were pissed off anyway. So you took it upon yourself to make the night a memorable one.

First, you started a pretty nice chat with one of the sweetest guys around, Declan. He wasn’t very excited about dancing or chatting around a lot, so it was natural for the both of you, who were sitting on the sofas, to start a conversation; then, as the hours passed by and you were still like almost furniture to your boyfriend, you accepted the first of the night from Declan’s hands. From there, you let go.

Maybe it was the music, or how fun it was to just meet new people, but you ended up dancing with not only Declan, but a bunch of girls and boys that just joined along the way. This wasn’t your usual self, but dancing between a gorgeous girl and Declan was the most fun you ever had in a while. At least from your drunken perspective.

“Babe?!” Jude’s voice sounded like an echo at first, which you ignored while the girl named Sarah was still holding your hips. “Babe!”

After a few seconds, your eyes landed on your boyfriend’s face, which wasn’t showing a very happy expression. You smiled at him anyways, unaware of how many times he had been calling your name while standing right next to you.

“Hey!” You said without stopping your little dance next to your new friends. “What’s up?”

That question alone seemed to liberate whatever reason he had to be mad at you. He took your wrist with no actual force, separating you from Sarah, who groaned in annoyance.

“Hey! I was dancing with her!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m leaving with her.” Jude replied in a dry tone that surprised you.

“But I was having fun! She’s a very good dancer.”

“I don’t care about that. Time to go home, now.”

Something about his tone and his eyes made you kinda sober up. You stared at him for a few seconds that actually felt like an eternity, your brain trying to focus on what was going on. Nonetheless, you nodded, giving Sarah a last smile before letting Jude guide you towards the exit.

The cold weather slammed through your very uncovered body with such force that you started to tremble. Jude noticed right away, and while waiting for the car that was supposed to take you home, he took off his jacket, embracing you in a hug despite his seriousness.

“What’s wrong?” You dared to ask after a while, feeling intimidated by his unusual silence.

“Nothing.” He murmured back, not looking at you, but at the street.

You pursed your lips but decided to not do anything about it. You knew better than to push Jude when he was in a mood. He would just close more to himself.

Finally, the car arrived, and without a word, he guided you inside with the same care he always gave you. You half-smiled at the driver before pushing the button that made the thick glass that separated him from the back seat appear.

“Okay...” You slightly blurred out the words, sitting almost on top of your boyfriend, who seemed very concentrated on the street rather than on you.

Of course you noticed something was wrong. He was upset, but you didn’t know why. It didn’t make sense, you just were having fun on your own. He wasn’t that type of jealous, wasn’t he?

“Baby... Talk to me.” If you had to use the big guns to your favor, then you would. Without any shame, you let your body fall on top of his lap, making you smile when he gave you a surprised look before giving your hips a little squish while helping you stabilize yourself. “Are you mad at me?” You carefully touched his cheek, wanting his eyes on yours no matter what.

“I’m not mad at you.” He said almost immediately. “It’s just that... You seemed to be having a lot of fun back there with Declan and that girl.” His eyes were still anywhere but on your face, and you started to slowly realize what was happening.

Oh my god.

“Jude, there’s no reason to feel jealous.” You kept caressing his cheek, biting your lip to stop the smile that was creeping on your face. “I was just dancing with them because you were busy with your friends, that’s it.” With little force, you made him look at you. “Look at me, you know I’ll choose you over anyone without a second thought.” You gave him a long peck, and when you backed up, he was smiling a bit. Progress. “I thought you knew I had the most gorgeous boyfriend on the entire planet.” This time, you fully kissed him, making sure that your body was fully aligned with his.

He returned the kiss with the same force, making you whimper as low as you could. You were still in a car with a driver, for god’s sake.

His hands traveled across your back, landing on your ass so carefully that you thought he was scared of your reaction. But that was impossible. In exchange, you let your nails make a slow trail from his jawline to his neck, taking a hiss from his lips that made you smile.

“Baby...” He whispered against your lips. The look on his face alone made you almost forget why you were holding back.

“Don’t ever doubt what we have.” You kissed his lips one more time, not feeling the need to retrieve yourself from his lap. “Only you can make me feel like this, got it?”

He nodded, still looking at you with a drunken expression that wasn’t there before. You wondered if you had the same expression while looking back at him. You sure felt drunk from his smell and touch.

“I love you.” He finally said before grabbing you for another kiss.

Oh, and how you loved him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE’S TAGLIST

#footballer blurb #footballer fanfiction #footballer fics #footballer fic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #footballfics #jude #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #bellingham #jb22 #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfiction

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layla4567 · 5 months

Text

OPLA (Monster trio) WILD WEST AU

The hat rule (nsfw drabbles, fem): Sanji, Luffy, Zoro

Warnings: well smut, p in v sex, suggestive (the smut is just at the end), everyone is of legal age, beta read, I don't know much about cowboys or the wild west so don't expect this to be very accurate.

wc: sanji- 1.606, zoro- 1.583. luffy- 1.917

Zoro

You entered the saloon with your chaps on well and a red scarf around your neck. Upon entering the double door collided with the walls and the noise caught the attention of those present. A boy with green hair hidden in his beige hat was sitting at the bar drinking beer, he turned his head and when he saw you a frown crossed his forehead and he wrinkled it slightly. You were Zoro's declared enemy since you were the daughter of a famous rival gunman of the green-haired man's father. You rejoiced at the looks of fear and respect that were directed at you, you looked everywhere analyzing the local people until your eyes met Zoro's, at which point he rolled his eyes and looked away. You were thinking of having fun today and that consisted of making the cowboy angry, so you confidently walked towards the bar and sat down next to him. He ran you up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"Hello pretty boy, did you miss me?"

In response he snorted and drank his beer, ignoring you.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I see that you are still a man of few words as always."

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally said, looking at you a little upset.

"Aww don't pretend you're not happy to see me Zoro, it's adorable"

Zoro rolled his eyes again in annoyance and your smile widened, you loved making him angry.

"And apparently you're still as irritating and talkative as always, or am I wrong? Look, if you don't mind, I'd rather be alone and keep drinking, I don't want to fight."

"Ooo the cat took out his claws" You said raising your hands in surrender without stopping smiling "Easy cowboy, I just wanted to chat with you"

"And what made you think that I want to talk to you?"

You rested your elbow on the table, approaching him and put your chin in your fist "Well, I think you'll want to talk to me when I tell you what I heard out there…"

Zoro still wasn't paying attention to you so you decided to double the bet.

"About you..."

This seemed to pique the cowboy's curiosity because he stopped drinking and stood still holding the glass suspended in the air. You smiled from ear to ear

"I'm not interested, they must be rumors anyway" he said downplaying it

"Mmmh okay, but then don't say I didn't warn you when they call you chicken"

You stood up from your seat to leave when a hand grabbed you firmly and quickly by the arm. You jumped a little but then looked at him trying to hide your smile. Zoro's look was more serious than usual.

"What's that chicken thing, huh?"

You sat back down, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "Oh nothing, it's just that people comment that I'm not only a better gunfighter than you, but I'm also a better horseback rider, and that you are a chicken for not daring to challenge me"

Zoro's hand squeezed the glass until his fingers turned white. Your satisfied face said it all, you had set a trap for him and he had fallen like a rabbit. Zoro pretended to look at the contents of his glass.

"For me, let them say what they want.."

"Oh, are you sure? Because I think they're right. Now that I remember, you've never challenged me to a horse race."

The green-haired man closed his eyes and pursed his lips, he was trying with all his might to control his frustration. Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his eyes and raised one corner of his lips in a small smile.

"If I haven't done that before it's because I know I'm guaranteed victory." he said looking at you

You shrugged your shoulders. "That's what those who don't dare to lose always say. Anyway, it's a shame, I think you'll have to get used to the nickname."

Now you got up from your seat without him stopping you. You turned your back to him and although you couldn't see him you felt his eyes on you. You were heading towards the exit when his voice called you.

"Wait, not so fast"

You turned around and saw Zoro stood up and walked towards you. His walk was similar to that of a hunched and angry gorilla. When he was in front of you he gave you a look cold as steel.

"How do I know you don't say those things just to make me angry?"

You giggled. “Oh so it really bothers you? Is your ego so fragile?”

The other people gathered in the saloon were now paying attention to their conversation, some soft laughter and murmurs could be heard. People smelled the fight and now they didn't want to miss anything. Zoro looked around now without hiding his discomfort. You decided to play with him a little although you knew you were taking too much risk. Zoro wasn't stupid and he was really good with a gun (although you would never tell him that) and if he wanted he could threaten you. But the game had started and it was too late to back out.

"What's wrong? You don't like being called chicken?" You said and then shamelessly imitated the sound of a chicken while you waved your arms pretending to be wings.

The people began to laugh louder while Zoro's frown grew until his gaze darkened.

"Hey, enough is enough"

You didn't obey him and continued making fun of him, laughing while the others looked at you funny. You only stopped when his fingers closed on your arm, firm enough that you couldn't escape but not so tight that it hurt you. The cowboy's face had gotten very close to yours and his eyes fixed on yours were intimidating.

“Y/N I said stop.”

His voice was deep and brooked no reply, your smile faded a little and you became serious. But you wouldn't let him threaten you or make you afraid. Roughly you broke free of his grip and moved closer to him until your noses almost collided.

"Fine, then what are you waiting for? Challenge me to a horse racing duel, and you'll see who wins." you said under your breath, sliding your gaze from one eye to the other.

He tilted his head slightly without flinching. "I won't do that, I already told you."

There was a boo from the crowd and a shout "What are you so afraid of?" But the green-haired boy ignored him, he only looked at you.

"Ok then I'm the best at riding…" You said with a shrug and walking away a little.

"No, I am" he said irritably

You rolled your eyes in frustration, he looked like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum. At this rate neither you nor he would agree. Suddenly you had an idea that will surely leave him speechless. If you couldn't beat him by making him angry, you would beat him by making him nervous. You took a step forward, smiling proudly.

"I'm the best at riding and I'm going to prove it to you" You said, slapping off his cowboy hat and putting it on your head.

The people at the bar gasped, but the best reaction was the one in front of you. Zoro had turned red and swallowed loudly. His face was so deadly serious that you wanted to laugh. You placed your hands on your hips, looking at him victoriously. He noticed your impudence and smiled sideways, hiding his embarrassment. He was also willing to play that game so he approached your ear.

"Are you sure? I can't guarantee your safety, I'm a bit wild"

Now the one who swallowed saliva to calm the confusion was you. You looked into his eyes whose pupils were now dilated. You nodded several times and he smiled walking away. And that was the beginning of everything, it will be a long night, you thought.

Just as you predicted that night in your bed Zoro was sitting up and you were straddling him. The green-haired boy hungrily kissed your neck, causing the temperature to rise.

"Zoro～ ohh.."

He smiled against the skin of your neck. "We haven't even started and you're already melting like butter in the sun."

As best you could, you grabbed the hat that was resting on the mattress and put it on your head. "We'll see who melts first."

You grabbed onto Zoro's shoulders and began to move your hips back and forth, making the cowboy grab your waist tightly, digging his fingers into it. You let out a moan as you felt his hand squeeze your flesh. His face was in the crook of your neck near your shoulder, that way he muffled his gasps and moans.

"Keep it up, ngh d-don't stop" he gasped against your shoulder

But it was difficult. Zoro wasn't lying when he said he was wild. His fingers on your skin would surely leave a red mark the next day. And from time to time he moved his own pelvis upwards to sink you deeper into him. Your nails dug into their shoulders and their torsos were beaded with sweat. But at no point did you stop or drop your hat. In the end they both collapsed exhausted on top of each other. It seems like there were no winners or losers this time, but Zoro's satisfied moans and sweaty face were your consolation prize.

Sanji

Sanji was outside the saloon taking care of his horse. With one hand he groomed the animal's head while with the other he brushed its back. His fingers traced soft scribbles on the horse's skin. You were waiting from afar for your father to finish unloading the suitcases full of clothes and belongings from the carriage, and you took the opportunity to see the cute cowboy. Almost without wanting to, you started playing with your braid, wrapping it around your finger. The blonde boy was focused on taking care of his horse but he was not stupid and he felt a look of intense eyes on the back of his neck. When he turned to see you, you looked away, biting your lower lip in embarrassment. For his part, Sanji just smiled amused and returned to his task.

You turned to see your father struggling with the luggage, you thought it would take him a while to get all the suitcases out so, nervously wrinkling the hem of your dress, you headed towards where the blue-eyed cowboy was.

"*clears throat* Good afternoon, sir."

The cowboy with a bright smile and tender gaze turned his head to see you and found a little girl with a sweet and affable look. Soon he couldn't help but let his gaze slide over your figure. Your tight skirt and corset marked your best attributes.

"Well, well, good afternoon to you missus"

His voice was even better than you imagined, syrupy like honey and soft like a feather pillow. Suddenly your legs felt a little weak.

"What's a cute little princess like you doing talking to a cowboy like me?"

You swore that your cheeks began to color and to hide it you covered your mouth slightly with your fingers and smiled while you looked at his horse. Would he always talk like that to all the women he saw? Sanji knew he had hit the nail on the head so he kept looking at you with that flirtatious smile of his.

"Umm, I just wanted to admire your horse more closely, if you don't mind, gentleman"

"Oh, so you're attracted to horses?"

"Very, sir. I always wanted to learn how to ride one."

The blonde cowboy laughed at your good manners.

"Please, my name is Sanji. And you must have a name too..."

"I'm Y/N"

You held out your hand to him and he kissed it gently on the knuckles. His lips against your skin tickled your lower belly.

"If you want, I can teach you how to ride Crystal," he said, stroking the horse's mane.

"Oh, Crystal? That's her name? it's adorable!" you said smiling pleased and caressing the animal

Sanji couldn't stop looking at you and smiling, you seemed cute to him.

"So? What do you say Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to ride?"

You were about to answer yes with a big smile but suddenly your father screamed calling your name, he seemed upset. You turned around and saw that he was walking towards you, clenching his fists.

"I'm sorry but I can't now, maybe another day-..!"

Your voice sounded disappointed but you couldn't say anything else because your father had already reached you and grabbed your wrist to pull you away from Sanji. The blonde boy watched with some annoyance and disappointment as you left, but not for you but for your father who didn't think it was right that he dragged you like that just because you had moved a few meters away from him. And it made him even more angry when he heard the exclamations he threw at you "Y/N, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?! Those filthy cowboys only flirt with girls and then leave them stranded!" The days passed without Sanji hearing from you until one day he had taken a walk in the countryside and saw you there alone and looking at the forget-me-not flowers and then collecting some. He got off Crystal and approached you, when you turned around you had a big smile that made his heart melt.

"Hello princess, have you decided to ride Crystal yet?"

You blushed to the roots of your hair and said shyly "I'm not a princess.."

Sanji loved to make you nervous "Really? But you do have a very pretty face, a sweet voice and good manners. Yes, I think you are one…at least for me"

You lowered your head, trying not to look at his perfect smile that seemed to mock you. "T-thank you, but you're right, I want you to teach me how to ride."

The blonde boy smiled satisfied and took you by the hand to get you closer to the horse. "You'll see, you'll learn quickly. Crystal may seem intimidating at first but she's a good girl."

The warmth of his hand sent shivers down your spine, you tried to hide it as best as possible, smiling confidently. Suddenly Sanji grabbed you by the waist firmly to sit on the horse, in surprise you let out a moan that made the blue-eyed boy laugh. Already on top of the honey-colored horse, Sanji told you to find a comfortable but upright position, he guided your hands towards the reins of the animal and told you to hold them firmly but without pulling. After several more explanations to which you listened attentively and looked at her beautiful dreamy eyes trying not to drool, Crystal began to walk. Sanji was at your side all the time with one hand on the horse's back to give you courage. After you had mastered Crystal, she began to trot until you were riding faster. After walking around a few times you came to Sanji who was applauding you happily.

"Bravo doll, that was perfect. You have a natural talent" He said grabbing your waist to make you get off the horse, completely ignoring your rosy cheeks.

"Well, give Crystal credit, she was very good to me" you timidly tucked a strand behind your ear.

"Oh and you're also modest, how adorable."

Damn, why was he flirting with you so much? Did I do it on purpose? It was making you nervous and making something grow in your belly that you didn't want to find out what it was. When you saw him again he was staring at you biting his lip with a smile, oh so he did it on purpose. Hiding your embarrassment you directed your gaze towards his brown hat.

"I like your hat, it's pretty" you pointed your finger

He took it out and looked at it "This one? Really? Oh but it's quite old… do you want to see it?"

You nodded excitedly and grabbed the hat in your hands. It was a little big and the fabric was worn on one side. You happily made a gesture to put it on your head when Sanji interrupted you, smiling mischievously.

"What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to try it on"

He laughed shaking his head "I wouldn't do that if I were you…"

You frowned in confusion, you didn't understand why he was laughing. "Why not? What's so funny?"

"So you don't know the hat rule?" Sanji said, coming a little closer to you, with slow steps.

You shook your head, somewhat intimidated, you felt that this rule was something important…or something that would humiliate you.

He laughed at your confusion "Then it's better that you don't know, forget it."

You put your hands on your hips in frustration. "Oh come on! Tell me, I want to know!"

The blonde cowboy leaned close to your ear and whispered "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

Sanji moved a little away from you just in time to see your eyes looking down and your face turning red. You didn't expect it to be something like this, with an innocent mind you could say that you had never been intimate with someone like that. But Sanji really seemed attractive to you, what if this was the time to complete something you had been thinking and feeling for a while? Somewhat hesitantly, you slowly placed your hat on until the brim covered your eyes. Sanji looked at you surprised and now he was the one feeling a little nervous and blushing. Even so, he smiled confidently again and took your chin to lift it and see your eyes that were covered by the hat.

"It seems that you are not as shy as I thought, Missus." he purred

That night without your father knowing, Sanji invited you to his house, he was so considerate and kind to you, he made sure that you were comfortable at all times and calmed you down when you didn't feel safe doing so.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to, sweetheart" He told you compassionately

In response, you held the hat with one hand and leaned over Sanji's body to kiss him lovingly.

"I'll be fine, do not worry"

You settled your pelvis above his. From his position Sanji enjoyed the view of your body bouncing on top of his and how your eyes turned white as you held the hat with one hand and with the other you touched his well-formed abs.

"Ohh～you feel so good..." The words slipped out of your mouth like pomaded butter.

"That's it, gorgeous. You're doing incredible"

The blonde couldn't stop praising you and guiding your movements by holding your thighs and raising his pelvis. And your moans of pleasure and satisfaction were his best reward. Without knowing it, he had not only taught you how to ride a horse…

Luffy

Luffy was in the tavern sitting at a table playing poker, although he tried to keep his face serious in his mind he was celebrating and jumping since he had been dealt a good hand of cards. Sitting in front of him was you, you weren't that good at hiding your facial expressions as you were frowning slightly because you didn't have such good cards. From time to time Luffy looked at you and smiled, he knew you were about to lose. The brat would even stretch out his arm to tickle you or push you with his foot under the table making you laugh. After a couple of minutes Luffy put his cards on the table, being the clear winner. You pouted and threw your cards on the table in anger. The boy, laughing mischievously, grabbed his chips and his prize, happy. You crossed your arms around your eyes and smiled. Since you were children you could never beat Luffy, you were inseparable friends and he had taught you how to play and in turn Shanks had taught Luffy how to play.

Luffy stood up from the table with his bottle of sarsaparilla and his dried meat. A smile crossed his face from ear to ear, he looked like a child. You looked at him and laughed happily, it was impossible to get angry with him, you loved him so much. Luffy approached you with his food.

"I promise to share my food with you… at least a little"

You laughed, patting his shoulder, if something characterized the brown-haired boy it was his gluttony. You grabbed the bottle and bringing it to your lips, you took a few sips while he looked at you. When you finished you sighed contentedly and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Hey, what do you say we go shooting practice?" You said giving him the bottle back.

He chuckled. "You mean YOU practice shooting."

You laughed. It was true, he didn't know how to use the gun very well but you always offered to teach him, but he preferred to see you and that's it (and if he could eat while looking at you, the better)

"Ok little cowboy, you'll watch me practice and you can also bring your food" You said pointing to the bottle and the beef jerky.

He smiled from ear to ear and gave a small shake of happiness. He hugged the meat and the bottle of sarsaparilla and followed you like a puppy towards the exit. They both rode until they reached an open field where only dry, yellow grass could be seen and a few oak trees casting shade. On one side there was a wooden board with a few bottles ready to shoot, you always went to that place to practice. You two got off the horse, leaving them tied to a nearby tree. You stood a few meters away from the bottles and Luffy stood next to you adjusting his black hat. You took out your gun and while the boy put a dried meat in his mouth, looking at you, you smiled and looked at the first bottle, winking. The first shot had been successful, the bottle had shattered as Luffy looked from you to the bottle in amazement and admiration while still chewing. With the other subsequent bottles it had been the same, just a little concentration on your part and the bottles would fall into pieces. Only one was missing

“Wow Y/N you are so good at this!!”

I smiled warmly, thanking him for the compliment. Suddenly you looked at the last bottle and when you were about to shoot you changed your mind and looked at your friend who was looking at you expectantly.

"How about I teach you how to break that bottle, huh?"

He looked at you doubtfully thinking about an answer, before he responded you said "Don't worry, it's easier than it seems, I'll help you."

Luffy looked at the bottle for a while and then looked at you "Okay, if you say it's easy, I'll do it" He said smiling.

Smiling, you offered to take care of his food and gave him the gun. You placed your hand over hers to guide her fingers and lock them over the trigger. At the slightest touch of yours on his skin, Luffy smiled widely and stared at you while you dedicated yourself to explaining the movements he had to do to avoid missing the shot. When you finally looked at him you found his gaze penetrating yours and you blushed slightly.

"Alright I hope you understood, come on shoot the bottle" You cleared your throat nervously.

The cowboy nodded and winking while sticking out his tongue in concentration, he pointed the gun and fired. The shot wasn't perfect but he managed to break the glass bottle that fell to the ground. You brought your hand to your mouth shouting and cheering him on.

"See? I told you you'd do it right!"

He blushed with joy and smiled "Well that's just because I have a good teacher."

You rolled your eyes in amusement and gave him a gentle, loving blow to the jaw with your fist. He laughed and suddenly hugged you tightly and spun you around lifting you into the air. You opened your mouth in surprise, squealing and laughing happily. So you spent a long time playing and chasing each other like cats and dogs, playing hide-and-seek or tickling each other, until the sun went down over the horizon and it became dark.

"How about we go to my house? It's too late to go to yours, and we can have dinner too if you want"

You laughed thinking that he was always eating, but he was right. Your house was further away from his so you nodded and riding away from the place. Along the way they were chatting happily and commenting on childhood anecdotes. When you arrived at Luffy's ranch you saw that there was a light on, he lived alone but he always left a light on just in case. You both entered, the interior was cozy, there wasn't much but it was comfortable, it had just what was necessary. Luffy put his food on a table and you took off your jacket to place it on a nearby coat rack. As you did so you couldn't help but admire a painting that had hung on the wall. It was a passage where you could see a cliff and a river. Everything had a perspective from the heights and distance, in the background a beautiful sunset full of purple and pink colors.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

You gave a little scream and jumped in place when you heard Luffy's voice so close to you. When you turned your head the brown haired boy was standing right behind you, so close that he could almost put his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The painting, is pretty, isn't it? I won it at an auction. I don't know who painted it and I don't know much about art but I liked this one."

While he was talking he looked at the painting and you couldn't help but see his brown eyes, they seemed prettier than you remembered. When he finished speaking he looked you in the eyes with his typical happy smile. Oh, you felt like the world around you was freezing and only you two mattered. You stayed like that for a few seconds until you found the courage to turn around and face him completely.

"Yeah I, uh..!"

You couldn't finish your sentence because when you went to take a step your foot got tangled in the leg of the coat rack and you tripped and fell on top of Luffy. The blow was so strong that he ended up with his back to the floor and you on top of him with your cheek on his chest. Luffy began to giggle softly that grew until it ended in laughter, you raised your head embarrassed and confused while he looked at you laughing. You frowned and blushed heavily. He touched your cheek with a finger.

"You look like a red apple, you look cute like that" he said laughing

You looked away embarrassed, Luffy made fun of everyone in a friendly way and sometimes said things innocently without bad intentions. But your shame was so much that you became angry at his words. You were going to respond with a mild rudeness when he opened his mouth before you.

"But I think you're missing something…" And then he took off his cowboy hat to put it on. "There! Now you look like a cowboy apple!" He said smiling and laughing innocently

Oh no. Didn't he know? It seemed not. Was he so naive as not to know the hat rule? Luffy thought his action was innocent and happy, he didn't mean anything bad by placing his hat on you but you knew that meant something else and now he really wanted the earth to swallow you.

"Uhh Luffy? Do you even know what the hat rule is?" You asked cautiously, controlling your nervousness.

He frowned in confusion and then his face changed in a few seconds to one of raised eyebrows and wild eyes. He quickly walked away from you and sat on the ground a short distance from you.

"OH NO NO NO, I'M SORRY I DIDN'T REMEMBER IT!!!"

He covered his hands a little embarrassed while you smiled shyly. It made you laugh that he was more embarrassed than you. At least he knew what it meant after all. You crawled closer to him slowly and removed his hands from his face, looking at him amused, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to which he looked at you surprised, who was the red apple now?

"We don't have to if you don't want to-"

In response Luffy gave you a kiss on the lips. It was fast and tender but that was the beginning of everything. Later, at night in his room, Luffy was lying face up on his bed and you were straddling him, leaning over and kissing him while you grabbed his cheeks. You asked him if he was ready and he nodded several times, quite excited you could say. You stood up and he placed his hands on your butt, squeezing and kneading your buttocks as if you were sourdough and he was the baker. You gasped in surprise and he smiled. It doesn't matter, you'd give it back. Because when you started bouncing on him, Luffy dissolved into purrs and gasps, he was a mess. You thanked heaven that Luffy lived alone because soon the room and the entire house were filled with moans.

"AhHh Y/N～ keep moving like that…"

The naughty cowboy liked to touch, too much. Now his hands were clinging to your breasts, trying to hold on to something and not crumble like a block of ice in an oven. A couple more bounces, some more moans from there and you two had ended up exhausted. You wrapped an arm around his torso as he circled your shoulders and caressed them. You smiled happily and were about to close your eyes when you suddenly opened them and looked at him worried.

"This won't ruin our friendship, will it?"

He laughed "Of course not, bad apple."

“Oh shut up you whiny brat” You rolled your eyes smiling.

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 1 year

Text

Baby names

This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally decided to finish it. It’s short but I love it

Summary: you and the moon knight boys try to think of names for your baby

Parings: Steven x reader, Marc x reader, Jake x reader

“How about Baset?” Steven proposed, looking over at you from the rim of his glasses. You lowered your book of baby names, resting in on your growing bump, an eyebrow raising. Steven took this as a opportunity to move from his place at his desk, books in hand as he made his way over to the bed where you were sitting.

He took a moment to look upon the books he had brought, trying to think which would help his case the most. He settled on a children’s book that he had bought from the gift shop as a while back, at the time he had said it was never too early to teach your baby about ancient egypt.

He opened a children’s book of Egyptian gods flipping to the page with the goddess Baset, showing you the colored image. He held it for you, looking over the top as he spoke again. “See she’s the goddess of beauty and the protector of evil. Lovely ain’t it.” He mused, his hand coming to rub affectionately over your belly. “Cause I know our little bugger here is going to be as pretty as her mother.” You smiled as his praise before rolling your eyes, knowing that behind his sentimental compliments he was trying to convince you to name your baby after an Egyptian god yet again.

“Steven.” You chided laying your hand over his.

“Yea?” He asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“We’re not naming our daughter after an Egyptian goddess.”

“What if it’s a boy? Cause I think Horus is quite fitting.”

You shook your head laughing. “Steven no.” He gave you a pout as he crawled between your legs, gently resting his weight on your belly as he ran his hands up and down your sides. His lips were pursed, all huffy from your denial at his suggestion for your guys baby’s name.

He tried again, looking up at you through his eyelashes. A look that always made your heart melt. “What about for a middle name.” He mumbled against your exposed skin, eyes wide and pleading. You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to trace the contours of his face.

“I’ll think about it.” He gave your a victorious smile as he pressed a kiss to your belly, eyes fluttering closed as Marc took over.

“Hey baby.” He mused, crawling up to kiss you, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I missed you.”

You hummed, looping your arms around his neck. “I missed you too.” You let him roll you into your side so you with your back to his chest, his arms coming to cup your belly.

“You’re not really going to let out baby have a name associated with an Egyptian god are you?” He grumbled, head laying in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t know. I think it could be cute.” You mused, thinking of how happy it would make Steven. “Besides I haven’t been able to think of anything better, I’m too tired.” You yawned, closing your eyes for a moment. “Do you have any ideas honey?”

Marc thought for a moment, hands coming to softly caress your baby bump. “As long as our baby’s healthy I’m okay with whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.” You smiled at his sentiment and laid your hands over his. You laid that that for a while just enjoying the moment before Jake finally made an appearance.

“Mi amor.” He cooed, nestling his face into you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “Amalia, for a girl.” He said continuing to kiss your neck and lovingly rubbing your belly. “Benito for a boy.” You smiled to yourself, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of his hand.

“I like Benito.” You turned in his arms and he gave you a rare smile. “Benito Horus.” You joked, earning a snort from Jake as he rolled his eyes. “It’s cute.” You smiled up at him and he could hear Steven in his head giving a cheer. But you knew most likely Jake and Marco would use their veto on Horus

#moon knight x reader #moon knight headcanon #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff

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azsazz · 2 years

Text

After Hours

Modern!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Multiple Request(s) for this one: @moony-thoughts : "i LOVE your modern bat boys... maybe we could get a fic??" & "Oh my god would you ever write a modern au with those jobs? I can’t get Az in the suit and glasses out of my head"

In other words: You and Az work in the same office and you've been crushing on each other for quite some time. Late at the office one night, he decides to do something about it.

Warnings: SMUT! NSFW!

Word Count: 6,922

Notes: I wanted to do something very special for my 1,000th post on Tumblr...can't believe how far this blog has gone and it's thanks to each and every single one of you. The Modern!Az we've been yearning for 🥵 I think I need a vacation after writing this 😮‍💨💙

_________________________________________

Azriel had been staring at his computer for far too long.

But he wasn’t liking the numbers he was seeing and he was sure that his clients wouldn’t either, which is why he’d opted to stay at the office hours after he was supposed to go home.

He knew that he could fix it, make the most money for his client, as he didn’t get paid the big bucks for nothing.

He’d had many nights like this before, sitting at his large desk, both of his computer monitors opened with what seemed like hundreds of tabs, eyes burning and fingers cramping from the amount of time he’d spent typing.

Empty coffee cups nearly spilled out of the small trash can beside his desk, the Starbucks app perpetually open on his phone. He’d ordered from the coffee shop at least six times since he’d gotten in after an intense training session at the gym with his roommate this morning.

Nothing but black coffee for him. Well, there might be an empty frappuccino cup shoved under the mass of the others, the remnants of whipped cream on the lid poking out between the holders and lids, the man having a secret sweet tooth.

But even the strong black coffee couldn’t help his fried brain now.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, preparing to leave for the night. You’d stayed later than you liked to prepare everything for an upcoming conference: itineraries, flights, hotels, the whole lot. You’re exhausted, back aching from your new bra and feet hurting from the heels you chose to wear on a whim that maybe your office crush might finally notice you.

You want nothing more than to go home and peel yourself out of your work clothing and pig out on the couch with a box of takeaway from your favorite restaurant with a shitty reality show playing in the background before you drag yourself to bed just to do it all over again Monday.

It’s not that bad, your job. You love it most days, especially those when you see Azriel.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever set your pretty eyes upon. With his midnight dark hair, hazel eyes that seemed to glow golden even under the unflattering fluorescent lighting, framed occasionally by his tortoise shell glasses.

He towers over most of your coworkers, and you’d might’ve gotten a glimpse of how large his cock was through his thin dress pants at an office party where you’d had one too many drinks to be considered appropriate.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since.

You’d had light conversation with him before, mostly about work, and you could hardly respond to him, found yourself blushing over nothing and stuttering through your words due to his intimidating beauty.

He was so out of your league.

Sighing, you dig your keys from your purse as you begin your trek to the elevators, pausing when you hear the music, soft and calming, coming from Azriel’s office. You thought you’d been the only one left for the night, well, you and the nice janitor who always seemed to find the time to stop you before you could slip out into the elevator.

Heels clicking softly on the tile as you approach, you peek around the corner into his office and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him at his desk.

You never truly had interacted with Azriel besides the light talk at the coffee machine when he was desperate enough to drink the watered down drinks your office provided. He was a busy man with an important job and although you would have loved to get to know him, his silent and serious demeanor had you more nervous than you’d ever been before to talk to such an attractive man.

His office is large, spacious with the minimal amount of furniture inside. His desk is enormous, made of dark wood, double monitors set up on top for optimal working conditions. The papers he’s perusing are both strewn about the work surface but in an orderly way that you knew would make sense to his calculated mind.

You nearly found it funny, how large he looked sitting in his office chair, and you expected the flimsy plastic to give out at any moment as he leaned as far back as he could, stretching his spine with a breathy exhale, the bottom of his shirt lifting to show that defined set of muscles and dark hair disappearing into his pants.

He hasn’t noticed you yet but you can’t help but watch. You always seemed to find yourself observing him, even when you weren’t consciously thinking about doing so. It was like something inside of you gravitated towards him, and you’d admire him from afar as he walked to his meetings in his finely pressed trousers that wonderfully showcased his thick thighs and tight ass.

Azriel sighs softly, removing his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Not even the blue light tint on his spectacles could save his sight now, having poured over numbers and articles from morning till night. He looks different than he had when you’d seen him earlier, dark hair now tousled out of its style in a way that you know he’s been musing his hands through it frustratedly.

You let your eyes trail to those luscious pink lips, glistening in the fluorescent light of his office like he’d just run his tongue over them before you’d entered. Down across his loosened tie, hanging limply around his neck, the first few buttons of his collar undone and showing the perfectly tanned skin you’d only dreamt of seeing.

Your gaze drifts over his strong arms, barely contained within the expensive fabric of his shirt, to the cuffs of his sleeves, rolled into the crooks of his elbows and showing off his impressive forearms. Veins bulging and moving beneath his skin like typing on his computer had been a workout all of its own.

His long fingers, the ones you had thought of so many times while pleasuring yourself. You’d imagined how they would feel, twisting and turning inside of you, the way that his expensive silver ring would burn ice cold pressed against your heated core.

You swallow, throat dry.

You’re frozen, unsure if you should interrupt or head straight home for the toy you’d left sitting on your bedside table, thoughts of this Godly male before you imprinted on the backs of your eyelids from how much you think of him.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” he hums, finally setting loose those piercing hazel eyes from his work up to meet yours, a shadow of a smirk across his lips.

Fuck. He’d caught you staring at him.

The heat in your cheeks is nearly enough to make you melt.

“Sorry,” you stutter, gripping the straps of your purse tighter for something to do. “I was headed home for the night and I heard your music.”

“Do you like it?” he asks, eyes looking you up and down, taking in those heels, that skirt, that button down stretched across your breasts like they’re about to burst…

You’re frozen in your spot, lightning zipping up your spine as he drags his gaze down and back up again, leaning back in his seat and quirking an eyebrow, waiting for your response like he hadn’t just undressed you with his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, clearing your throat to speak louder, “It’s nice.”

“You know what else is nice?” he asks, and the way that he does has you wanting to lean on the doorframe for support, legs wobbly in your heels from that shadow of a smirk gracing his lips.

You don’t dare ask, the heat crawling up your chest and neck. You want to hear the answer oh so badly but you don’t know how you’d be able to keep yourself from jumping him should his answer by you. Glancing towards his overstuffed trash can, you respond with, “Starbucks?”

His upturned lip turns into a wolfish grin and he pushes up from his chair. He trails a fingertip across the top of his monitor as he casually stalks around to the front of his desk. Not a trace of dust, just as he thought. He stuff his hands into his pockets and rests on the edge of the dark wood, sizing you up.

“Come here, (Y/N),” his voice is low, filled with mirth, like a predator watching his prey, eyes glued to you every shaky step closer you take.

Each stride forward is difficult, shoving yourself through the tension in the room as he waits. Your heart pounds in your chest, loud in your ears and you’re afraid if he speaks again you’ll miss it. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be alone in Azriel’s office while he flirts with you.

You may as well be naked with the amount of nervousness you feel standing before him. You’re nearly the same height now, and he’d tower over you should he stand.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about being alone with you?” he murmurs, watching, waiting.

Fuck. You could fall to the floor with utter happiness right now. He’s thought about you? He’s thought about you! You bite your lip, trying to contain the splitting grin forcing its way onto your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flicker down to watch and the hazel turns molten.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about being alone with you?” you counter with a burst of confidence.

Your bag falls to the side as he slides from the desk, closing the gap between the two of you in one long stride. He presses himself completely against you, his tall, lithe figure overpowering you, causing you to yield a step.

He pulls you back into him, large hands settling on your waist as yours clamp around his neck. Every inch of your skin is on fire where he’s touching you. You stare up at him and he stares back at you, trying to read your expression, if you want this as badly as he does.

You absolutely do.

His breath fans across your face as he speaks, eyelashes fluttering. He smells of coffee and mint and the leather from his desk chair. His voice is so low, a rumble of a question that you nearly miss. “What do you do when you think of me?”

You blush, looking down. And if that isn’t answer enough for this gorgeous male holding you tightly–

The glide of his hand against your clothed skin nearly makes you moan as he moves slowly up, feeling his way up and up and up until he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back ever so slightly so he can drink in the delicious rosiness of your cheeks.

And there’s that fucking smirk again. God, you’re so wet right now, if you lean in just slightly maybe you’d be able to feel his excitement too.

“Tell me,” he demands, though it’s a pant, a beg, like he needs to know just what it is that you do with that little toy on the table next to your bed. You can see the wildness in his gaze, the primal urge to know.

Inhaling a breath, you steady yourself, letting the anticipation and the tension wash over the both of you, and you speak.

“I touch myself to the thought of you, Azriel.”

“Fuck,” he groans and he can no longer contain himself, dipping down to catch your lips with his.

There isn’t anything delicate about it. You gasp into it, pulling him closer to you with the hands you have slipped around him, and he takes the opportunity to work his tongue inside, tasting you completely.

Azriel steps into you and yes. Exactly as you thought.

Your body is thrumming with a brilliant kind of heat that you’ve never experienced before, kissing him back just as hungrily as he’s kissing you. You bury your fingers into the long hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly, and it earns you a debauched sound that tastes as absolutely delightful as it sounds.

His hand traces around your front, blazing a trial as he goes, shoving it between the two of you. You falter for a moment but he’s using it to slide up under your shirt, needing to feel your soft flesh beneath his fingers.

You break the kiss with a gasp, positive that he’ll reach his other hand around and rip your shirt open should you give him the chance.

His roaming hand stills. Faces mere inches apart, his brows twitch together in confusion. His chest heaves perfectly in time with yours, still pressed tightly to each other.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Azriel,” you puff, trying to calm your breathing.

He tries to step away, clearly he’d gotten the wrong impression and God does he feel horrible now but you’re stepping back with him, stopping him by wrapping your arms around his waist instead.

“Why not?” he whispers like he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“I just…” you trail off, his thumb stroking patterns on your skin that leaves you dizzy. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?” he counters softly, keeping your gaze locked with his own when you try to look away again. You don’t know why but you’re nervous. This is everything you’ve been dreaming of, but what if it’s too good to be true?

“I want you.”

He releases a breath you didn't know he’d been holding. His hand snakes from your shirt and both of his hands come up to cradle your face.

The coldness of his ring grounds you, looking up into those soft flaxen eyes.

“And I want you, (Y/N). Have since the first day you started.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Two years. He’d wanted you for two years and hadn’t ever made a move?

You kiss him again because you can’t help yourself.

He pulls you backwards, walking slowly back toward the edge of his desk. When he sits down it’s much easier to glide your fingers across his chest to his buttons and Azriel shivers beneath your touch.

Thankfully, the first few buttons are already undone for you.

Your hands are trembling with arousal and excitement as you try your best to undo his buttons while he kisses the brains out of you.

Sensing your growing frustration he chuckles against your lips, coming to your aid and finishing the job with deft fingers.

You don’t hesitate, shoving the silky fabric aside to press up against him fully, standing between his legs.

His cock is rock hard where it’s trapped against his thigh and he groans when you brush up against it. You throw your head back as he latches onto your neck, kissing and biting every inch of free skin he sees, a blank canvas for him to work.

You moan, fingers gliding down the planes of his chest, every muscle pulled taut with excitement, suspense, and it makes you grind your hips against his.

“We can’t fuck on my desk,” he pants, kissing you between each word. He can’t get enough of you. “How about yours?”

“What about Brian?” you whine, though he’s not the only reason you wouldn’t want to fuck on your desk. It’s in the middle of the damn lobby for fucks sake.

Azriel pulls away and gone is the feral look of hunger from his face, replaced by slight amusement. “The janitor?” he questions and you nod. His grin is a slash across his lips and you smack his chest as he chuckles. “I’ll pay him off, or I can pay him to watch if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Ew, you pervert,” you hiss, kissing him again because that smile is too handsome to resist. He laughs and your knees nearly give out at the rich sound. You try to take a step away from him but his arms are wrapped firmly around your waist and he pulls you closer instead.

“Well then I guess I’m taking you home.”

Home.

You and him. Him and you. At his house. Alone.

You can barely comprehend his words as he stands, turning off his monitors before snagging his keys off of the desk and picking up your purse from where you’d abandoned it on the ground, all while his other hand stays tucked in your own.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You’re nervous, trailing after him with your hand clasped in his warm one. It's marred and pink and you find yourself wondering what happened but you tear your eyes away just as he looks over his shoulder at you with a raised brow.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t have any extra clothes,” you blurt, cheeks tinting pink once more.

“You won’t be needing any.”

You shoot him a look and he laughs. The pureness of it sends your heart fluttering in your chest. You’d never heard him laugh so freely before, hell, you’d barely even seen him smile in the two years you’d worked with him. “You can borrow some of mine.”

“What about tomorrow? I have to come back to the office.” You protest, and you scold yourself for not shutting up. You want this.

“It’s Friday,” he responds bluntly.

“I know that, dumbass,” you groan at his smirk. God, that smirk. You swear your heart nearly beats out of your chest everytime you see it.

“Do you not want to come over to my place?” he asks as the doors to the elevator slide open. He punches the button and turns to you, caressing your face so gently you find yourself fighting not to lean into the soft touch. “Because I’m not forcing you. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. We can order some dinner or watch a movie, I’ll even leave you be, you can go home if that’s what you want. I don’t want anything you don’t want.”

“You’re what I want, Azriel,” you assure, grabbing his collar for a steamy kiss, “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” he thumbs over your cheek caringly.

You shrug, “I don’t know, because I can’t believe this is happening? Because you’re so intimidatingly beautiful, how can I compare? Because–”

He silences you with a kiss that lasts ten floors, you can tell by how close the glowing number is to the lower levels when he pulls away.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, I can promise you that. If anything, I’m the one who’s nervous. I’m in the presence of a literal angel, after all.”

You roll your eyes but blush at his comment, “Am not.”

His smile makes you grin and he leans down to whisper, “You are everything that I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N), so I think you are my angel.”

You shiver, pulling back to look him in the eyes. You find nothing but raw truth in those hazel eyes, and you find yourself leaning in ever so slowly when the elevator doors slide open.

The cool breeze of the parking garage and Azriel’s lips on your neck send shivers up your spine. He ushers you off of the elevator with a hand on your lower back and it nearly spreads across the entire width, warm and reassuring.

“This is your car?” you question, eyes going wide at the sight of the sleek, expensive car before you. It must be brand spanking new because it looks like it has less miles on it than the pristine shoes he’s wearing.

“Yes, why?” The locks disable with hardly a sound and Azriel opens the door for you.

Such a gentleman.

“I certainly do not get paid enough,” you mutter under your breath, tucking yourself into the passenger seat. He hands you your purse and shuts the door lightly. The leather is soft beneath your thighs and you inhale deeply as he walks around to the other side, letting the scent of the new car wash over you.

“Which one is yours?” he questions once he’s settled into the driver’s seat beside you.

You flush, cringing slightly. Your eyes betray you, flicking over to where your car is parked amongst the few others left in the lot. It’s not terrible but it’s certainly not comparable to his.

“It’s not bad,” he comments and you snort.

“I know it’s not. We’re clearly not in the same tax bracket.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he hums, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he pushes the ignition button, the car roaring to life with an expensive purr, backing his words.

You’re glad that your cheeks are already red because you’re full on blushing now, hot with his intentions. You have to bite back the grin threatening to split your face in two.

Azriel eases off the clutch, pulling out of his reserved parking spot. You can’t help but watch as he shifts the car into another gear, his large hand smothering the shifter. You swallow harshly, the slight jolt of the car as he moves into a higher gear awakens your senses.

Once you’ve exited the parking garage and are out on the street does he really kick things into gear, gassing it down the road.

“Az,” you gasp, hand clamping to his forearm. In fear or excitement you’re unsure as you melt back into the seat from the speed.

There’s that fucking perfect laugh again, music to your ears. You were completely unaware of the dangerous streak the normally stoic man before you had.

And you quite like it.

He slows the sports car once you turn off onto a busier street, making your way towards his home. Azriel takes your hand into his, guiding yours to the shifter and covering it with his own warm one.

God, this man. So surprisingly unexpected from what you’d known of him. Everything you’re finding out about him only makes you slip further into your attraction for him.

You clench your legs together as the noises and the vibrations of the car are the only sounds between the two of you. It’s not awkward though, not in the slightest, and every shift of the gears with your hand pinned beneath his is so hot. His scarred hands are soft but firm, his thumb stroking your skin mindlessly as he drives, like this is a normal everyday thing for the both of you.

You want those hands all over you.

“Do you like driving a manual in the city?” you ask once you’ve hit a bout of traffic. You’re not asking because you feel the need to break the silence, only because you’re curious.

He shrugs, giving you his undivided attention easily. “It’s a bitch sometimes, especially in traffic. People seem to think that every car is an automatic these days so they’ll get right up on my ass and get pissed at me when my car rolls an inch backwards.”

You hitch an eyebrow, picturing how he might react being tailgated by an asshole driver. Would he flip them off? Maybe slow down to a snail-like pace just to piss them off further, all while wearing that gorgeous smirk that’s burned into your memory. Or would he gas it, leaving the tailgater in his dust?

Is it getting hot in here?

“I’ll probably sell it,” he continues when you don’t respond. You question his admission immediately, watching as he bites back his smile. “Like it, do you?”

“I just don’t see why you’d sell this nice of a car,” you comment, averting your gaze out the window so that he can’t see your pink cheeks and you can’t see his grin. “Don’t think I can come up with a single idea as to why you’d do so.”

“I’d sell it that I can have a free hand to tease you with,” his silky voice sends shivers down your spine and you wonder if he’d notice you fully crossing your legs should you choose to move them from where they’re trembling from being pressed so tightly together for so long.

Cruel, wicked man.

And fuck if he doesn’t love the way you blush with everything he says.

The rest of the relatively short trip is filled with teasing touches and cheeky remarks that have you nearly bursting at the seams. You hope Azriel doesn’t mind the indents in the leather your nails had made when he trailed a delicate finger up your thigh at a stoplight.

He pulls into the driveway of a lavish home. Modern with dark woods and stone, expensive like all things that surrounded this man.

Azriel opens the door for you, helping you out of the car. You can’t help but drink in the sight of him, the light from the moon washing over him and he looks ethereal, like he was born to thrive in the darkness.

“As much as I love when you look at me like that,” his voice is gentle, like if he’s too loud he might shatter the moon, “I would like to show you inside. That is, if you still want to?”

You nod graciously, following him up the pathway to the heavy looking front door, “Of course.”

The inside is as luxurious as the out, straight edges and expensive fixtures. The couch is the only piece that looks somewhat different, large and plush and comfortable looking. Loved.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he waves around, much more than ready to show you to the best part of the house, his room.

Azriel lets you linger where you’d like, asking all of the questions that pop into your head on the way, admiring his home. It suits him, you think, running your fingers across the thick slab of stone countertop as you pass.

When the door shuts behind you with a click, all of the feelings and passion and tension return full force.

Azriel turns from the door, prowling a step closer. You yield beneath his touch, his soft lips so achingly familiar already and you clutch to him, never wanting to let go.

He backs you towards the large bed that basks in the moonlight from the open window, letting your lips fall apart when your knees bump the back of the bed and you sit down.

He wastes no time pulling the shirt over his head. He doesn’t have time to undo all of the buttons he’d had to at the office. You’d so teasingly helped him do so, your fingers brushing across his chest and leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. He swears he can still feel exactly where you’d touched him.

You kick off your shoes as you wait and he leans over you, eyes dark and pupils blown. You want nothing more than him inside of you right now.

He guides you backwards, slowly, encouraging you with kisses down the column of your neck and down into the collar of your shirt until you’re resting against his pillows, pliant and ready for him to do as he pleases.

Your legs fall apart for him and he settles against you. A flush of heat slides through your body and it’s not only because of his body pressed tightly into yours. The way he’s looking down at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen makes your heart race, and you find yourself soothing your fingers through his hair, urging him down to kiss you.

Every kiss takes your breath away. The slow, teasing exploring, the caress of his tongue against yours turns hotter as you hold the back of his head.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds his hips softly, gauging your reaction. By the noise, he takes it as a good sign.

You’re ready for him, the hot ache between your legs is just begging for him. You buck up against him and he kisses you deeper, caressing your face and Azriel jerks his hips against yours more harshly this time, his cock heavy and dripping in his trousers.

You startle against his lips as you hear a door slam shut and a voice call out, “Az? You home?”

Azriel sighs against your lips, pressing his forehead into yours as he lets out a soft groan. His golden eyes are gleaming with lust and amusement as he answers your unspoken question, “It’s just my roommate. I figured he’d be out for the night, I’m sorry.”

In reality he’d been so distracted by your reciprocated feelings and immense beauty that he’d forgotten to text his roommate – Cassian, a friend from his college days – to disappear from the house for a while, most likely until late in the afternoon tomorrow.

“Let me just,” he starts, sliding his phone out of his pocket. The light from the screen illuminates his face and you’re awestruck once again at just how handsome he is. His perfectly straight nose, midnight painted hair hung low across his face as he texts, licking at his bruised lips.

It makes you ache.

He sends off the message and within moments you hear deep laughter from downstairs, barking out a bellowing “Wrap it before you tap it,” that causes Azriel to groan before the door opens and closes again with a slam and a car starts up in the drive.

You quirk an eyebrow, “You have a roommate?”

He shrugs, showing you his crooked grin. “He won’t leave.”

“Didn’t seem that difficult to get him to leave just now,” you muse, carding your fingers through his thick hair.

His golden eyes sparkle, “That’s because dear old Cassian would do anything to get me laid.”

Your nose scrunches up as you joke, “Been that long has it? Hopefully you’re not out of practice.”

Azriel’s smile turns positively wicked, dipping down to nip at your lips, “Would you like to find out, (Y/N)?” It’s paired with a jerk of his hips that sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, arching up into his muscular body. “Been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too baby,” he grunts, “All I think about is you in those tight little skirts,” he sucks a mark onto your neck, mouthing his way down the column of it, pulling away to stare down at your shirt with dark eyes. “These shirts you don’t button up all the way, God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He tears open the front of your shirt and you gasp with pleasure as the buttons go flying and you’re exposed before him, golden gaze raking up and down your body.

Azriel wastes no time, suckling on the delicate skin of your breasts, his hands sliding between you and the bed to unclasp your bra. He does so easily, watching you with a hungry gaze as he slowly removes the fabric from your body, drinking you all in.

His exhale is shuddering and you nearly sigh at the freedom. Trailing your hands lightly up his strong arms, you tug him gently. He goes easily, pressing his chest up against yours, both bare, and you gasp at the feeling of his muscle brushing across your nipples.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, “So fucking perfect, (Y/N). Do you realize that?”

You keen in response, squirming up into him. The way your body brushes across his has him in a frenzy, he wants you. To lick you, to taste you, to smell you, to be near you all of the time. His mind screams at him to never leave your side.

“Can I taste you?” It’s guttural, nearly a growl, desperate like his senses are completely overcome with you. His golden eyes glow in the moonlight, burning and alight with desire as he fingers at the waistband of your skirt.

Your eyes roll back, head falling into the fluffy pillow as you beg, “Please, Azriel.”

With a bruising kiss he works his way down your body, teeth and tongue and lips. It’s nearly overwhelming, the way he’s stimulating your senses with every caress, stroke, touch, all you can think is Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.

You can feel his every breath, shivering at the cool wisps against the wet skin around your navel he’d just been sucking on.

He’s torn between shoving his head up the bottom of your skirt because he’s eager to taste, or drag it off of you so he doesn’t have to worry about it later. He does the latter, helping you out of the piece of fabric and letting it fall from his grasp.

“Leave it,” he stops you from pulling down your panties with a gentle hand on your arm, “For now.”

He guides your hands up into his hair, a dark smirk on his face as he does so. “You’re going to want your hands up here, sweetheart.”

You press your lips together in a line, tugging on his hair, squinting your eyes at him like you’re unamused. His grin only widens, the gleaming ring of his iris’ around his dilated pupils looking like an eclipse.

Before you can respond he’s nuzzling his nose into your clothed cunt, drawing a gasp from deep within you.

Azriel ruts against the bed, barely containing his moan. You’ve soaked through the thin fabric, he can nearly taste you as he digs his tongue through the fabric, working his way through your folds.

“Mm, Az,” you plead, grinding against his face.

He’s never been so happy in his entire life.

He teases you for as long as he can take, his cock throbbing, aching in his pants, before he’s snagging the waistband in his teeth, dragging the pretty fabric off of you.

You’re thrumming with need, begging him for anything, hands snaking down to touch yourself when he pulls away because you need some sort of relief.

But of course, the ever watching male catches your wrist, tutting as he removes your hand, “Not yet.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, trying to twist your hand from his grip. He grabs your free hand, collecting both of your wrists in his grip, pinning them to the bed.

You cunt clenches with need.

With his free hand he undoes his own pants and you go slack when his large, leaking cock springs out.

Your mouth waters at the sight and you stifle your moan. It’s perfect, thick and long, pink at the tip and glistening, ready for you.

Oh how you’d love to wrap your lips around it one day.

He climbs back onto the bed, ducking down to swipe his tongue through your folds and you can’t hold back the noise that escapes at the feeling.

Azriel likes how you sound, all needy and whining for him, and he goes down for another lick because the taste of you exploding on his tongue is something he wants to taste everyday for the rest of his life.

“Azriel,” your tone has him freezing immediately, lifting his gaze to yours, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He thought you were enjoying this. Maybe you’d changed your mind?

“Save it for round two,” you whimper, and he nearly comes at the sound, the sight before him as you squirm, needy for his cock. “Please.”

“As you wish,” he whispers in your ear, licking at the shell of it. Your hand finds the back of his head and you turn to kiss him, hand snaking down to where his cock is rubbing against your dripping core.

It’s exactly like you thought, silky smooth and so large your hand can barely wrap around. He hums into your mouth as you tug it a few times, lining it up with your hole.

“Eager are we?” he smirks, though it sounds strained because all he wants to do is fuck into you.

“You’ve waited for this for two years–” he bucks and it elicits a filthy moan from you, “And you want to drag this out?”

“If it means keeping you in my bed I’ll do anything,” he pants.

“Show me what you’ve got and maybe I’ll stay,” you respond as innocently as you can but he’s pressing in all too slowly.

You wiggle your hips, silently begging him for more as your breath catches in your throat from the sheer size of him. Azriel watches you worriedly, hoping that he’s not hurting you, but the incoherent sentences and hips wrapping around his waist tell him you’re enjoying this.

Raking your nails down his back, his hips settle against yours with a soft groan.

He kisses your red cheeks, murmuring, “Breathe, darling.”

You do, barely, Holy fuck, Azriel. You feel incredible.”

He preens, hiding his grin in the crook of your neck. Your hand slides up the length of his back, stopping at the nape of his neck so you can keep him there, kissing harshly at your throat.

Waves of pleasure wrack your body as he begins moving, clutching him tightly, tugging on his hair.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, moving back form your neck to your lips, kissing you deeply.

His cheeks are flushed, hair definitely mused from where you’re pulling on it, his eyes soft but blazing with lust as he watches you become a mess beneath him. His pink lips curve into a smile at the sight.

You can hardly catch your breath as he pushes the air from your lungs with each thrust, filling you completely.

“So pretty,” he hums when you cry his name, “So fucking incredible.”

His voice is so deep you barely catch what he’s saying, reveling in the feel of his body against yours, his cock in your cunt as he picks up his pace a little, catching your mouth against his and pushing his tongue inside at the first opportunity.

You moan into his mouth, pliant in his arms. You’ll do anything he wants, if he asks. His hands are everywhere, his body is everywhere, his compliments wash over your body and all of it combined are working you closer to that familiar feeling.

Azriel fucks you, harder and faster until you’re moving backwards up the bed. He moves with you sometimes, a hand placed atop your head so he’s not rutting you right up into the headboard, other times he’s sitting up, grabbing you around the thighs, his cold ring branding your flesh everywhere he touches, pulling you down onto his cock.

You’re both slicked with each other’s sweat as he leans down so your hips, stomachs, chests are pressed together, his inky hair falling over his eyes.

He looks like fucking heaven. You can barely contain yourself, feeling the need to come seeping through your body, grinding up into him.

“Azriel, I’m going to–”

After a particularly hard thrust he snakes his hand between the two of you, finding your sensitive clit with ease. His calloused fingers know exactly what to do, and you can only picture him in the gym, perfecting this body, knowing his fingers hadn’t gotten tough from typing.

Each swirl of his fingers, thrust of his hips has you half moaning, half screaming as you grip him harder.

“That’s right (Y/N), good girl,” he praises and your eyes roll back in your head. You whine, needing to feel his lips against yours as you come and Azriel complies with a tender kiss that pushes you over the edge.

You’d never been fucks this good in your entire life.

Moaning his name loudly he works you through your orgasm, hips stuttering against yours as the wetness, your cunt convulsing, tightening around his cock sends him into a mind-numbing orgasmm of his own.

His forehead presses into yours and you moan his name over and over again because he won’t stop flicking over your sensitive clit. It feels amazing and you want to sob with pleasure, hips bucking up in a sharp movement that has his gasping against your neck.

You turn to him when he stills, kissing him like he’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

Everything in your head is muddled, your focus only on everything Azriel.

He hums softly in your mouth and it makes your lip and tongue tingle. His body is hot where it’s pressed against yours but you don’t care, would rather be hot with him pressed against you than cold and alone.

Azriel holds you gently, slowly decreasing the pace of your movements until his lips are soft and light, almost tired. You sigh, curling a piece of his hair around your finger as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“That was…” he trails off because there are no words to describe just how amazing that was.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, kissing him once more because you can’t help yourself, “Yeah, it was.”

His hold on you doesn’t ease once and your heart swells with happiness.

You don’t know how long you lie like that, tucked into his side, and you’re the first to break the silence.

“Az?” You trace your finger down his chest.

He looks down at you, kissing your forehead softly, “Yes?”

You peek up at him through your lashes and the sight of him stirs something hot in your gut.

“Can we order some food?”

The corners of his swollen lips twitch and he looks beyond perfect, molten caramel eyes crinkling at the corners as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s get some food, get some energy back for round two.”

#azrielxreader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz #azriel/reader #modern!azriel #fuck me 😮‍💨#idk what came over me

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