#and to be clear: i do not mind if she touches me!! i am incredibly touch starved!! i crave physical contact but i'm afraid to initiate it!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

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TYSM FOR THE LADY GAGA FIC!!!!

I have another song fic request...

Alastor (or anyone else really lmao) has to find reader in order to patch up like a deal or smth idk and he finds them in this jazz club thing performing on the stage to 'Noel's lament' from 'ride the cyclone'? Like she's draped across a piano singing abt when she was living she was nobody but in her dreams she was this absolute femme fatale and alastor just watches her from the back of the crowd??

So niche but I was thinking abt it all night

Lots of love 🤍

i actually loveeee this song eeeee i’m so happy to do this, and i am so glad you liked the last one it means so much to me teehee sorry this took awhile i’ve been busier lately but i hope you enjoyed this, maybe i’ll do a part two but if i do it may be real delayed until i clear my plate lol!

song referenced; noel’s lament

warnings: implied to be succubus reader but their not really to standards of succubus, i don’t believe there are feminine pronouns here but there are certain feminine things (dress wearing, feminine terms like suductresd etc), no psychical descriptions of reader as per usual, minor gore and death, reader is sneaky and slipper, alastor is weird about love as he should king, but he still feels emotion, possible cringe parts idk it’s a songfic and sometimes they can be 50/50. LMK if i missed any!

word count: 2.7K

You had a debt to pay, you had to have known this. Alastors mind reeled as he toyed with the pen in his hand, occasionally scribbling nonsense down as he thought. You were always quite the slippery sinner, never being tied down to one place in the pentagram, but this was just ridiculous. Since he’d been back, and warmed up to the hotel, he’d been searching for you, but no sign. No demon has said a word about you either had he still been in touch with Vox he may have had you found by now.

You weren’t dead, and that’s as much as he knew; he would’ve felt your souls absence if you’d died, the fickle fun of making such contracts. There was little he knew about you personally, he new superficial things but nothing that would give him a clue on where you’d hide, a silly mistake on his part. He knew Mimzy would be were the cash or party was, Husk wherever there was a gamble and Nifty, well, normally she never strayed far anyways. As for other souls they were about the same in simplicity, whether they were murderous or cannibals they always had something keen to them that would lead him to where they were.

Alastor failed that with you, unfortunately he’d found himself a little at loss with you, in more ways than one you boggled his mind. He was used to women and men alike hitting on him or being incredibly provocative, but there was some way you did it that made him speechless. Not like when Angel would hit on him, where Alastor felt that sensation of being caught off guard with disgust and shock. No, on the night you made the deal, you were stalking around the back of his sofa inside his radio tower, your hands caressing his shoulders as you passed, sweetly and mischievously offering a pleasurable favour in return for his help. That was something else, that was unique to you.

He still recalls the memory as if he was still right there on the couch, engulfed in your scent, entranced by your siren-like voice, it made him hot under the collar and tight around the waist. Thankfully Alastor was a gentleman and a businessman and there was no way you were getting out of a soul contract through some silly sexual favours. It was definitely trying to keep his composure as your lidded eyes watched his lips move, but he managed as he always does. The deal was fairly boring on your part- you wanted to be his friend.

Red flags appeared in Alastors mind about the validity of that but shook on it nonetheless, however that was all before he disappeared. He’d not held up his end of the bargain but then again neither did you; you didn’t show when he called on you to the hotel and try as he may, couldn’t seem to summon you the way he could with Husk.

Dropping the pen, Alastor stood from his seat and shadowed into the floor, stalking out the window like a snake. Alastor decided a little stroll couldn’t hurt, after all his mind couldn’t rest and perhaps he could happen upon you out in sin city. Alastor enjoyed his time walking, humming and basking in all the horrors that happened around, however he grew bored fairly quickly, and decided to take a detour into Mimzy’s favourite joint.

Alastor walked in like he owned the place and seated himself at the bar waiting for his dear friend. “Mimzy dear, how’ve you been?” Alastor spoke out excitedly and loudly, catching the attention of his fellow demon who had appeared from the back of the bar. Mimzy squeaked and ran up to Alastor on the other side of the bar, shooing off the other demons trying to pull at her, the trim of her dress flying in all directions as she hopped and scuttled. “Alastor! What brings ya here, big man? Coming for a dance?” His smile was indifferent as she spoke but he was quite pleased to see the doll, someone of routine. He watched the demon plop herself down on the seat beside him, his hand fiddling with the whisky in his cup that he magicked up. “Yes dear, afraid I have quite the slippery soul in my hands.”

With both elbows on the table Mimzy leaned in, an excited smile on her face. Alastors head fell to the side, sighing at her desire for gossip, Alastor pushed up his monocle and explained the situation with you briefly. He probably went into too many details about how you looked, or smelt, or perhaps how he thought of you in his absence because the whole time Mimzy was coy and giggles. “Wow Al, sounds like you’re carryin’ a torch for this gal’,” Mimzy teased, walking her fingers across the table in his direction. Alastor stiffened at that watching her do her silly tease wide eyed. What a juvenile thing to assume, that he had feelings for some sinner. “Mimzy, don't be ridiculous!” Alastor scoffed grin still present as he threw his limp hand her way, head tossed back. “There’s no such thing! Besides she’s nothing more than some sensuous succubus, it’s what those types of demons do. Seduce.”

Crossing her arms Mimzy let out a flat ‘mhm’ clearly not convinced by what was being said. “Well Al, tell ya what! You have my back next time some nasty loan sharks come, and i’ll tell ya where your pretty seductress is.” Alastors nails tapped against the table rhythmically as he silently pondered, it’s not like he’d say no to her, just as she wouldn’t say no to him. Fixing his posture from his more lesuride position, he agreed with a nod, gulping back the last of his liquor.

This club Alastor stepped into was very reminiscent of a wealthy man’s speakeasy, something that was nestled safely in the depth of the pentagram in an unassuming alley, as if it were hiding from something or someone. It was nostalgic for him, in a sickening way, Alastor didn’t enjoy remembering mortal life as it seemed so detached from him and who he is now. His red eyes danced across the room manically, his static following in suit with every glance he gave. Searching for his little succubus. Low amber lighting, that stuffy smell of smoke in the air, the velvet chairs, surrounding chatter and the piano playing smooth jazz; Alastors body subconsciously relaxed into the familiar environment, as much as he hated his mortal life there were such aspects like this he missed.

He dragged himself inside and sat in a red velvet chair, immediately he slumped onto the table, his elbows on the table, his chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with the fire from the candle, bringing it up, around, and high and low. His eyes dragged over to the stage as the piano rifted into a new tune, the lights in the room dimming and brightening toward the stage. Inwardly, Alastors frustrations imploded making his skin hot and his antlers grow in size; all the light to see you with now focused on the stage for a performance he couldn’t care less about.

Standing to his feet, Alastor gripped his microphone like it was his life line. With a strained smile he began towards the door as the music began, and a voice started introducing themselves and talking about their dreams, however he was too busy being frustrated, and scanning the room for you to fully pay attention to the voice. That was until- “A hooker with a heart of black charcoal.” A breathy voice finally sang out, grabbing the attention of Alastor as he neared the exit. Freezing the static sounds of radio station channels sounded out from him, his eyes widening at the sound of you.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he looked over the crowd of seated heads and at the stage where you were walking on. There was a light focused down on you as you slunk out from behind a curtain furthest from the piano. Straightening his back, Alastor slipped into the shadows and behind a pillar near the bar, just to wait for you of course, to come off. “I write poems to burn by fire light, drink champagne and guzzle gin, good girls call me ‘The Town Bicycle’- don't knock it til you’ve tried my life of sin,” Alastor watched enchanted as you dragged your heels across the stage as you sung, making your way over the piano with seductive grace, something Alastor wasn’t used to being so hooked by.

“Oh, Claude, my pimp knows neva mess with me,” Your voice, once serene and beautiful now, was demonic and harsh, capturing the audience's attention. “Last prick did that faded quick to black,” Like a switch your voice returned to its sweetness, your arms outstretched just slightly, fingers twinkling to emphasise the ‘fade’ you sang of. Alastor couldn’t look away from how you manuerved your body, how your voice carried through the room, and how the lights sparkled against your jewellery. You were a sight for sore eyes as you teasingly brought yourself closer to the piano, that regular soft bedroom look in your eyes. “I have no idea where to find him officers,”

Alastors brow quirked at that, as your hands came up to cup your face with false naïveté. “But if you do, please mention that I’d like to have returned that pretty knife, that I stuck, ten. times. in his, back!” You grit out, sweet façade falling once more making Alastors tail wag, unbeknownst to him. There was something about the way you pulled and pushed the narrative in the song that made him antsy, excited even, and the fact that this was something you stated you dreamed to be, meaning whilst alive you dreamt of killing, of being bad, oh that made Alastors blood rush.. You waltzed around as you continued to sing the lyrics to the chores, Alastors eyes watched closely as you slithered your body effortlessly up onto the piano.

It was like you were made for performing, singing, and he had the brief fantasy of you in his studio singing on air, sat on his lap as you sung through his microphone for the folks of hell to hear, but he pulled himself out of it quickly, scolding himself for indulging in silliness. Now your body was draped across the obsidian piano that shone the reflections of the light, you sat on your hips, legs folded behind you, hands over your heart. “He said ‘I think I am in love with you’- I’ve heard that lie a million times before,” Your posture fell slightly as did your tone, it seemed that there was some truth and sombre in the lyrics you sang, and in a way Alastor felt like he could relate to that; after all what even was love?

It made him feel weak to pity you, to attempt to empathise with your pain, but there was barely any time to think about his thoughts because just as he did, you’d recapture his attention entirely. “Oh, tonight I give into the fantasy,” Your head fell back, sorrow in your tone as your hand caressed your shoulder, pulling down the strap of your dress. “Take love when you can, when you’re a whore.” After a silent moment the chorus picked up, as did you, sliding yourself off the piano and dancing around with a smile. Unfortunately Alastors mind lagged behind, something was just too vulnerable in the way you sang about love, and considering it wasn’t something he often thought about, it peaked his curiosity just slightly.

It wasn’t until the end of the performance when you sung about your death that Alastors attention zeroed back in on you, his eyes catching yours as the song fell out, your head turned in his direction. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth fell slightly ajar before you sang out one last word: a ‘hey’ coincidentally directed toward Alastor. After that the lights on stage shut off instantly, and the crowd applause began.

Alastor watched you be dragged off stage by two larger demons through the darkness, your legs flailing as your arms were restrained, at the sight the purpose of him being here returned. Pushing himself off the pillar he was leant against, he brushed himself off and straightened the crimps in his pants, before picking up his microphone and making his way towards where you’d been dragged. It was a cruddy little backstage area, he’s under the assumption the performers here weren’t treated as kindly as the guests. Throwing the door open he was greeted by the sight of you, the two demons who dragged you off, and some other third one.

You sat on an ottoman in the middle of the room, your entire essence changed as you curled into yourself, your head hung low. Humming, Alastor adjusted his monocle. “Am I interrupting something?” Oh how Alastor loved to play dumb, he watched the third demon, seemingly imp, stand straight anger evident and radiating off of him. “Yeah you really fuckin are red, get outta here now.” The imp barked throwing his hands up in a shooing motion. Your eyes met Alastors, begging silently to stay. “I’m afraid i can’t do that you silly lug,” Alastor tutted joyfully stepping into the room throwing his microphone around like it was a toy. His shadows crawled out from beneath his feet, sneaking up the walls and across the ceilings making the three men anxious. “This little canary happens to me mine, soul and all.” His voice shifted to a more demonic one as the hues in the room shifted.

You sat speechless, watching the mysterious deer defend you after seven long years of being on hold with him. You were surprised he came at such a time, convenient for you. The two muscle demons were quick to puff their chests and step toward Alastor, but before they could properly swing, tentacles emerged from the shadows gripping the torso and hips of the men and pulling them in two. The screams were horrific, and the sounds of squelch and ripping nearly made you yourself sick, however it did the job for the littler imp as he immediately caved. “Oh okay okay, alright buddy, take the siren, no problem take em! Go!” The imp stressed while pulling you from your seat and toward Alastor hurriedly.

You stumbled against his pushing and found yourself falling accidentally into Alastors arms, tripping over your own heel. Alastor caught you without even looking down, arms wrapping instinctively around you as he glared at the imp with a smile. “Oh good, I would have hated to have caused a scene! Ha ha.” Alastor laughed humorously, although he was the only one finding any joy from this as the imp cowered away from the two of you. Pulling you closer to his body, Alastor fell into the ground with you, your body feeling freezing and damp for a moment before normalcy returned.

You didn’t realise you had your hands over your eyes until you felt Alastors hands grip your wrists, and pull your hands away. You blinked up at him before glancing around the room, it was indeed a room, one you’d never seen. “We're at the Hazbin Hotel dear, time for you to see to your deal.” Alastor said calmly, his tone even and his voice soft, his even his static was at a minimum. “Of course,” You say clearing your throat and backing up from his grasp. He didn’t fight against your distance, letting his arms fall and wrap behind his back as they normally would. “Why did you help me back there? I mean you could’ve just poofed us away?” You ask, rubbing the places on your arms where the demons dragged you.

“Why, thats what friends are for my dear! That was our deal, no? To scare off the threats and protect each other?” Alastor coyly hummed, bending slightly at the waist. Looking down slightly you nodded, hands coming up to sit on your waist. Sighing you shook your head, you should’ve known that this would come back to bite you in the ass eventually. “Alright slick, what is it that i’m doing for you?”

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fatecantstopme · 2 years

Text

Let Me Remind You

Pairing: Morpheus x reader

Summary: Morpheus believes you have forgotten how much you mean to him, so he endeavors to remind you…

Warnings: A little bit of angst, a moderate amount of fluff, and a whole lot of smut.

You wandered around the library aimlessly, gently running your fingers along the spines of the books you passed, your mind somewhere very far away. You'd been doing this every day for some time now, and others had begun to take notice.

"My lady?" Lucienne asked cautiously from behind you.

"Hmm?" you hummed in response.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked gently. "You have been spending much of your time in the library as of late."

You turned to face her and offered a soft smile. "I am quite alright, but I appreciate your concern, Lucienne."

The librarian nodded, but was not quite ready to back down. "If I may speak freely, my lady..."

"You may always speak freely, Lucienne. You know that."

She cleared her throat softly. "It is just--I have noticed you have not seemed quite like yourself these past few weeks."

"What do you mean?" You knew exactly what she meant, but you weren't sure if you wanted to admit it to her, or even yourself.

"You have seemed, pardon me for saying, but lonely, perhaps?"

You released a gentle sigh. "How could I possibly be lonely when I am surrounded by the lovely dream folk? By your kind presence?"

Lucienne nodded. "Of course, my lady. I only meant to say that I know Lord Morpheus has been quite busy--"

"Indeed he has, Lucienne," you said gently, but firmly. "He is a king, and as such he has duties he must attend to. I cannot, in good conscience, fault him for that."

Lucienne bowed slightly. "As you say, my lady. I did not wish to offend."

Your expression remained soft as you observed your husband's librarian. "Do not worry yourself, Lucienne. You have not offended me." You selected a random book from the shelf in front of you, not even bothering to observe the title. "I think I shall retire to my chambers to read."

Lucienne bowed again. "Of course, my lady."

You did return to your chambers, but you had no desire to read the book you'd picked up. In truth, Lucienne's uncanny ability to notice your emotions had simply made you uncomfortable. She was not wrong, however. You missed your husband dearly. He had been incredibly busy since he'd returned from his time in captivity, and you understood completely. Although, you could admit to yourself that you craved his presence, his authoritative voice, his loving touch. You had not spent more than 10 minutes with Morpheus in weeks, let alone made love to him. While his distance caused you pain, you would not, could not, tell him. It would not be fair, to him or to the realm.

**********

Morpheus was standing in his throne room, bent over a table littered with various papers and books. What appeared to be utter chaos to the untrained eye, was completely logical to him. He was deep in thought, eyes glued to the page in front of him, when he felt the presence of a certain librarian. "What can I do for you, Lucienne?" he asked without looking up.

Lucienne cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, my lord. I wished to speak with you about something rather personal."

That got his attention. He straightened up and his eyes met hers, confusion evident in his gaze. "Personal?"

"Indeed, sir. It is about the Queen."

Morpheus quickly stamped down the panic that threatened to rise within him. "Is something wrong? Is she unwell?"

Lucienne shook her head quickly, wishing to dispel her master's concern. "Nothing of that sort, my lord," she paused. "May I speak freely?"

"Always, Lucienne."

"Well, sir, I believe the Queen may, perhaps, be a bit...melancholy."

His brow furrowed. "Melancholy? In what way? She has been most pleasant around me."

"When was that, my lord?"

Much to the dream lord's surprise, he found it difficult to answer her question. It dawned on him that he could not remember the last time he had really spent more than a few minutes with his wife. His starry eyes met Lucienne's, her own eyes confirming his fear. "She is lonely," he said softly.

"It is not my place to say, my lord, but I do believe you should speak with her."

Morpheus closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out into The Dreaming, seeking your presence. When he found you, he opened his eyes and said in a hushed voice, "I must go, Lucienne. You are in charge until I return."

Lucienne knew he intended to be away for more than a few hours. She simply inclined her head and offered him a knowing smile. "Of course, sir."

Before his librarian was even finished speaking, Morpheus had disappeared from the throne room, leaving his work behind.

**********

You were sitting on the window bench in your room, gazing out at The Dreaming below. The sun had begun to set, casting a beautiful pink and gold glow across the land. You wondered where Morpheus was, as you often had in recent weeks.

As if the dream lord had heard your thoughts, he materialized just inside the closed door. "My lady," he said softly.

You turned your head to look at him, giving him a warm smile. "Do you have time to sit with me for a moment, my love?" you asked.

It almost pained him to hear you voice such a question. As if he could ever not have time for you. "I always have time for you," he said softly, crossing the room to sit across from you, his back against the window.

You sensed his mood, but you were unsure of the cause. "You are upset, my lord. Has something happened?"

He shook his head. "I spoke with Lucienne just now. She helped me realize that I have not been the best husband as of late."

You looked surprised. "You are an amazing husband, Morpheus. I could not ask for a better partner."

He looked at your face and saw nothing but sincerity. "My love, have I not been distant? Have I not left you alone for far too long?"

"None of that is true, my lord. Yes, you have been busy these past weeks, but that is the nature of your role. You are the ruler of this realm, its most vital piece, the essence that keeps The Dreaming alive. Your role as king will always come first. I have understood and accepted that from the very beginning."

Your words brought pain to your lover's eyes, pain you did not understand. “Have I truly failed you so terribly, my love?”

“You haven’t failed me, Morpheus," you answered in confusion.

“I must have, for you to believe, for even the slightest moment, that anything could possibly come before you in my heart.”

You shook your head. “The Dreaming is your creation, my lord. It must come first.”

“You are my love, my heart, nothing will ever be more important. No duty, no kingdom, could ever compare.” His eyes seemed to burn as he spoke, passion igniting deep within them.

You were silent, words failing to come to you. Your husband had changed during his time in captivity, but it was evident his love for you had only grown.

“It seems, my beloved, I must remind you of your importance.” His eyes darkened as he spoke and you realized how he intended to remind you.

“Morpheus,” you said cautiously.

“You deserve to be worshipped, my Queen, and that is exactly what I plan to do.” Morpheus stood up and slowly removed his coat before taking your hand to guide you to the bed. His touch was gentle and warm, as it always was with you. "Lay down, darling."

You did as he asked, as you always did, but there was something different about this moment. He was always authoritative with everyone, even you, but his voice had a gentle, loving quality that you had missed dearly, long before his absence. "Morpheus?" you asked softly.

His eyes met yours and you almost gasped at their beauty. It had been ages since you'd seen them shine so brightly, like stars against a velvet sky. "Yes, my love?"

"You have changed," you whispered, unsure of whether you should utter those words aloud.

His brow furrowed slightly, and a look of sorrow clouded his face. "I have loved you for ages long since passed, though I did not always treat you with the love and tenderness you deserve." He seemed almost heartbroken as he spoke. "I wish to remedy my mistakes. I wish to ensure you know how my heart craves you, how my soul relishes in your very essence, how my body craves the touch of your gentle hands. I wish to worship you, beloved, as you deserve to be worshipped."

Your lips parted and your breath caught in your chest. Never, in your hundreds of years of marriage, had he ever spoken to you in such a way. The loneliness you had felt suddenly turned to desperation. You needed him, just as he needed you. You reached out a hand, silently pleading with him to join you.

Morpheus climbed onto the bed, taking your outstretched hand in his, kissing it gently before placing it against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath his skin. "My heart beats only for you, my love."

You were unsure where the romantic words were coming from, but you were not going to complain. "I love you, Morpheus," you murmured softly.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against your soft lips. "I know, as I have always known." He kissed you again, a little slower this time. "My love for you is as endless as I myself, am."

You let out a heavy breath, desire sinking into every fiber of your being. "Please, my lord. I need to feel you."

"As you wish, my lady." He kissed you deeply, holding your body close as he pressed down against you. Your clothes faded away into nothingness, as did his; a wonderful trick of his you had always appreciated.

The moment you felt the smooth silk of his skin against yours, you released a soft moan against his lips. He responded by tightening his grip on you, long fingers digging into your flesh. Your own fingers clung to his shoulders before finding their way into his unruly hair. You gripped his black locks tightly, earning a pleasured groan from your lover. You had not forgotten how much he appreciated your fingers in his hair.

His lips trailed down to your neck, seeking your most sensitive spot, nipping gently at your pulse point. It seemed the dream lord had not forgotten what you appreciated.

Your moans were soft, but your hands were firm against his skin, a stark contrast to the way his fingers gripped your soft curves. He held on tightly, as if you would simply melt away in his hands if he let you go.

He was more gentle with you than he had ever been, more adoring than you knew him capable of. Each movement, each caress, each kiss was reverent in a way you did not expect from the King of Dreams.

It was not, however, his touch, nor his affection, that made you breathless. It was the way he looked at you, eyes deeper than the deepest oceans, as vast as the universe itself, and brighter than all the stars in the sky. Those beautiful eyes of his never left yours. It did not matter where he strayed, he could not tear his gaze away from your face. It made you feel like a goddess, to be so clearly worshipped by an Endless in this way.

His lips came back up to yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. When he pulled away, allowing you a moment to breathe, he whispered against your ear, "What is on your mind, beloved?"

"You," you whispered in return, hands snaking up his torso, appreciating every muscle and curve of his body.

"Hmmm," he hummed quietly, sending shivers up your spine. "What about me has captured your thoughts?"

His hot breath and soft lips against your ear sent waves of desire through your body. "Your eyes, my lord," you murmured. "It is your eyes."

"My eyes?" he asked in slight confusion, lifting his head to look at you.

Yet again, his gaze took your breath away, but this time he took notice of it. He saw the way your pupils dilated, the way your body reacted to his presence, the halt of your breaths...but what he noticed most of all was the way you looked at him. As if he'd personally hung the moon for you and you alone.

"Your eyes hold the universe within their beautiful depths, an endless universe filled with wonders beyond my imagination. They have a beauty to them, and a softness, that I have not seen in many years." You sighed. "They speak without words, my lord. They tell of your admiration, your affection, and your love...all for a woman who had long since forgotten how it felt to be under your gaze."

His eyes turned glossy with unshed tears as he listened to your words. He truly had neglected you for far too long, even before he was captured by Burgess. He had loved you from the beginning, but he had not known how to express that love, but in this moment, he somehow felt as if he knew, as if he had always known, somewhere deep inside himself. "You deserve more than I can ever give you, my love, but I promise to try. I make this vow to you, that I shall always, for the rest of my days, endeavor to show you the love, affection, and admiration I have always held for you."

You laid beneath him, silent and still, afraid that if you moved even an inch, you would awaken to find this had all been a dream. But the way he looked at you, the way his fingers grazed your skin, the way his deep, velvet voice covered your mind and body, all told you this was real. As real as the man hovering over you with nothing but an expression of deep, passionate love on his face. As real as the endless love you had for him. As real as the feeling of his flesh against yours and the beating of his heart matching the tempo of your own. This was love in its purest form. A love from which you would never recover, not that you wished to.

"Morpheus," you said quietly, gentle hands rising to touch his handsome face. "It has been ages since we truly made love. That is what I wish for this night."

He moved closer to you, pressing his body into yours. "Beloved, there is nothing I would rather do, no pleasure I would rather give."

This man, who of course was no mere man, made you desperate in a way you never imagined, and when he touched your body in your most sensitive spots, he made you see stars.

His lips and tongue were gentle at first against your core, a teasing sensation more than anything. You whimpered at the feeling, hips pushing towards him, begging for more.

Morpheus could not help but indulge you (and perhaps, himself). His mouth was expert-level perfection as he feasted upon you. Every flick, every swirl of his tongue, each time he sucked or licked, gave you incredible pleasure. You made the sweetest sounds for him, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. He loved the feeling of your hand in his hair, fingers tangled in the messy locks; your other hand gripping onto his forearm, the only other part of him you could reach.

The whines and moans he tore from your throat began to increase in volume and pitch, an indicator of your impending release. The dream lord tightened his grip on your hips, forcing his face even deeper into you, his own moans sending vibrations through your core. He was as desperate to feel your release as you were to have it.

You chanted his name like a prayer as he took you to the highest heights before calling out his name as you fell over the edge. Your fingers dug into his flesh and tugged on his hair even harder than before, eliciting a groan from deep inside of him. His gentle mouth worked you through your spasms of pleasure, only ceasing when you gave his hair a gentle tug and squirmed away from his lips.

He rose up to look at you, mouth covered in your slick. He licked his lips as he stared at you, enjoying the lingering taste of you. "You taste so sweet, beloved. I could stay here all night, if you were to let me."

You chuckled lightly. "I do think I would pass out from sheer pleasure long before the night was over, my lord."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, my lady?"

You smacked his arm affectionately, a gesture you had not done since the early days of your marriage. For a moment, you worried you had crossed a line, but your concern was quickly dissuaded when the dream lord gave you a warm smile. "Perhaps another night, then," he said softly.

He crawled up your body, placing soft kisses on your skin as he moved.

"Mmm, perhaps," you responded, desire already digging its claws into you once more.

He paid special attention to each of your breasts, ensuring neither one felt neglected. "I have missed touching your body in this way," he said, almost to himself.

"Hmm?"

He seemed to realize he had spoken out loud. "I simply mean, I have not showed your beautiful body the respect it deserves in a very long time."

You sighed softly, hand slipping under his chin and gripping tightly. You gently pulled him towards you until his lips were mere inches away from yours. "Hear this, Morpheus, and hear it clearly. You have never shown me anything but love and respect in all our years together. Even when we grew apart, I always knew you cared."

He laid his forehead against yours, brilliant blue eyes swimming with emotion as they met yours. "I do like when you call me by my name," he murmured.

You turned your head to the side as you observed him. "As opposed to?"

"Words of formality or titles. I have always loved to hear my name on your beautiful lips."

You smiled and tilted your head up so your lips brushed against his. "Morpheus," you whispered against them.

He groaned softly and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss began as a gentle expression of his love, but quickly morphed into a passionate fire he could not douse.

There was something beautiful and new about this moment, this feeling between you both. Thousands of years of marriage, and yet neither of you had ever felt this before. It was a feeling you did not want to ever lose, nor would Morpheus ever let it die.

The kiss was all-consuming, a passion burning so bright it blinded you. You felt his hands caress your body, every inch of your skin set ablaze by his touch. Your own hands danced across his skin, sending ripples of pleasure through him.

Morpheus sat up, giving you a look you understood. You simply nodded and he wordlessly entered you in one slow movement. You sighed happily, the fullness a welcoming feeling you craved. As his hips began to rock, you moaned against the skin of his chest, teeth digging into his flesh gently as the pleasure overtook you.

He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and murmured his love for you against the sensitive skin. When your nails dug into his back, he gasped your name against your skin.

Everything about it was beautiful and raw, from the way he moved, to the way sweet sounds glided past your lips. Neither of you could breathe, the pleasure too great for any other sensation.

It did not take long for you both to reach your breaking point. The King of Dreams, however, was an exceptionally proud man, and he would never allow himself to feel his release before you. Your pleasure was paramount in his mind, nothing else mattered.

"I can feel you tightening, my love," he said softly. "I know you are close."

You nodded, unable to speak.

"I need to feel your pleasure, my darling, please. Let go for me."

As if all you needed was his permission, you suddenly tumbled into an ocean of pleasure, each movement sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body until your mind was clouded with nothing but him. "Morpheus," you gasped.

Your husband groaned loudly, the love-drunk way you spoke his name enough to give him his own release. His hips faltered and his breath caught in his chest as he emptied within you, giving you all he had to offer.

When he was done, he collapsed on top of you, covering your body in his own. Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, holding him close to you, one hand gently running your fingers through his hair. You kissed the top of his head and closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his skin against yours.

"I could stay here until the end of time," he whispered.

You smiled. "I would allow it."

He chuckled and kissed your skin softly. He seemed to realize suddenly that his full body weight was on top of you and he lifted himself up slightly. "Am I hurting you, my love?"

"No," you insisted, tightening your grip on him. "I quite like this feeling."

He smiled and settled back down against you, content to let you hold him close. He preferred to be the one holding you, to always be the one in charge, but in the comfort of his own room, he dropped his guard and let you take the reins. It was yet another way he reminded you of his love. There was no one else in existence with whom he would show such vulnerability, and it was a gift you cherished more than anything else he could ever give you.

#Morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #dream of the endless #the sandman #morpheus smut #sandman smut

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tsumtsumrry · 1 year

Note

Hey! It would be so nice if you could write something I had in mind for a while. Ceo Harry who’s like always in control of everything but behind closed doors with his girlfriend he gets all shy and submissive. (If you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t wanna write it it’s alright :) 🫶🏼)

apologies for this being so short, migraines are kicking my butt but i didn't want to go so long without posting/answering your request :(. please don't hesitate to let me know if you'd like a part two though <3

There’s a small knowing grin on your face as you watch him through the large window of his office as he berates one of his employees. You roll your eyes at his tone and chuckle softly to yourself. You turn around when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder and a smile is brought to your face when you recognize the touch as Harry’s secretary. She’s young for the job, fresh out of university but incredibly intelligent with a strong work ethic. She’s also so incredibly kind.

“I would absolutely not go in there if I were you,” she warns, making you furrow your eyebrows and pout in confusion, “that guy he’s yelling at, messed up a couple reports that set us back big time. He’s pissed.” Your mouth opens in an “o”, understanding the situation. A small smile comes to your face, knowing that she’s just trying to help.

“I am not afraid of my husband, no matter how grumpy he can be.” you laugh softly and she looks to the ground and blushes softly with a smile on her face as if she’s scared to speak ill of her boss.

The smile stays on her face as she speaks, “well good luck then, Mrs. Styles. You can always ring me if you need anything.” she walks away and you notice that the yelling has stopped. You take it as your opportunity to knock softly on the door and Harry’s head instantly shoots up, his eyes softening in recognition when he sees you. You open the door and smile at the employee, who almost looks scared to make eye contact with you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, I brought you some lunch.” you make your way over to Harry with a small smile and place the food down on the wood table. You decide to make light of the obvious tension in the room and speak sarcastically, “everything okay in here?”

Harry rolls his eyes but you can see him look down to stifle a laugh.

“You’re dismissed.” He tells the employee and you watch as he scurries away.

Everyone in the office knows to steer clear of Harry when you come in, no one dares to bother him or come to his door, and even if it’s important, they opt for a call or an email.

The second the door is closed you look back at Harry and run your fingers through his hair. His entire demeanor melts into the soft one you’re so familiar with, “what have I told you about yelling at people like that, honey?” you reprimand him gently.

“He fucked up an entire weeks worth of work, my love.” He looks up at you softly, his eyes pleading. The poor baby is always so eager for your approval. He brings his arms up to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him so his head can rest on your stomach.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, honey. Would you like me to make it better?”

In an instant, his frame softens even more. The implication of your statement making him fall deeper into that submissive state you always seem to get him in. And he loves it, he truly does. He loves how he’s able to relinquish control with you. With the job he has, it feels like he always needs to be in control of everything, but with you, he can just let go. He can let go of all his stress and tension and just get lost in you.

“Please…” he sighs, his arms tightening around your waist, “please make it better.”

You pout in sympathy at his desperation and continue to run your fingers through his soft hair, “the second you get home, honey. Can you be patient for me?”

He nods quickly and eagerly, still clinging to you. You can tell it might be hard for him to let you go today, but if he avoids the work he has to do it’ll only grow in size. You pat his arm slightly as a signal to let you go, you feel him hesitate, but he obeys, and you look down at him to give him an approving smile.

“You’re just so good for me, aren’t you?”

Harry opens the front door softly, his mood having improved since this morning. He’s been thinking about you the whole day, thinking about your touch and how you promised to make him feel better. He hasn’t been able to think about anything else. Even his secretary commented on how distracted he seemed.

He walks further into the house, placing his keys on the counter. He calls your name softly and frowns when you don’t answer.

He keeps walking until he reaches your shared bedroom and his eyes instantly widen at the sight of you, clad in the most beautiful piece he’s ever seen.

He doesn’t remember buying you that one, but he doesn’t even dwell on that thought considering how beautiful you look.

“H-hi,” he whispers, he walks up to you and his expression is pleading, “touch?” he asks softly. You smile gently at him and you nod, he wastes no time bringing his hand up to your body. He drags his knuckle softly down the material of your bra and sucks in a sharp breath.

“You’re really pretty” he keeps his voice quiet and low and you melt as his sweet words and the way he reacts to you.

“You’re just as pretty, angel,” you respond. He softly shakes his head and you pout, standing up to press your lips to his. He fully immerses himself in the kiss and his hands shoot up to grab at your waist.

“Still want me to make it better?” you pull back from his lips to ask, watching his hazy, half-lidded eyes.

“Please. Do whatever you want to me.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fluff #subrry #sub!harry #ceorry #ceo!harry

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tonkatsubowl · 8 months

Text

false love. vii

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

┈┈

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

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english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

┈┈

TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part five. ꕤ part six.

➽ requested tag list: @immahuman @lovingnahida @nayukiyukihira @dollfaced-erin (please comment below to be added to the tag list. i forgot who wanted to be tagged from now on so please let me know. sorry if i forgot you)

the next morning, you were clearly sore.

you were covered in love marks; bites, hickeys, but they were soft in terms of... well, image. and so was your session last night with your husband.

it was your first time doing it too, and jing yuan had been incredibly gentle with you. yes, it did hurt, it stung, but every moment that you felt any source of pain, he stopped to make sure you were okay.

after that, you had fallen asleep in his arms, and being unable to leave your side, he was unable to do any sort of aftercare for you... until the very next morning.

your eyes fluttered awake to the sight of soft, gentle rays of the sunlight invading through the window. your thighs were sore, and you were still hidden underneath the covers of your now shared blanket with jing yuan. you were so comfortable, you didn't want to move... but also, you were sore as well, so you definitely didn't want to do anything today.

looking to your right, you didn't see jing yuan anywhere. you felt a little saddened–maybe he had to go somewhere and do something important?

or maybe he was unsatisfied with your body and left you.

...nay, don't think like that now, y/n. the both of you literally shared a single night together, and he had always protected you and made sure you were safe and sound... especially now. you were fighting your self doubts, your insecurities and anxieties. because jing yuan loved you all the time.

"y/n?" you hear jing yuan's voice softly protrude through the door as it was slid open. he entered, holding a tray of what appeared to be breakfast and a side of tea that was given, too. your eyes brighten as you sat up, using the covers of your blanket to cover your chest.

his eyes linger on your shoulders and neck, satisfied that he gave you his territorial marks—you were his, and these marks are proof.

"jing yuan," you beam, happy to see him. you felt the world's weight lift off your shoulders as you see him waltz in, placing the tray on the empty nightstand.

"did you sleep well? are you hurting? i brought a heat pad with me just in case, too, if you required it."

you blink. as he sat the tray of food down, you watch him retrieve some sort of ointment from himself, and you were immediately embraced by the scent of herbal eucalyptus and lavender.

"i slept well... and i am a little sore. you didn't have to do all of this." you murmur, a little shy.

"you're right. i don't have to. but i want to. i want to take care of my wife, always." jing yuan flashed a smile at you as he sat down next to you, rubbing the ointment into his hands. "please, show me your back. i'd like to treat the marks i left on you so they don't hurt as much. i apologize if i went a little too far."

you shake your head as you turned your back towards him, letting him treat you. "y-you didn't. you were gentle... and..." good thing you weren't facing him now. you were hiding your face, cheeks reddening. "...i enjoyed it."

...yeah, you weren't facing him, so you didn't get to witness the sight of red that dusted on his cheeks. he cleared his throat awkwardly, shy and touched by your comment. "..i'm glad, love." he said, before giving a warning, "it's going to be cold."

gently, he rubbed the ointment all over your back in silence. you couldn't help but remember the scenes of last night. he was heavily breathing against you, whispering into your ear, kissing you, your neck... you immediately covered your face as your blush had deepened its color.

"ah-? y/n? is it too much?" jing yuan blinked, staring at you with worry.

"n-no, it's not that. i just... n-nothing."

"i see," jing yuan murmured, leaning in to give the back of your neck a kiss, "as long as you aren't hurt. then that's all that matters to me."

finishing up the treatment, he puts the ointment away before reaching over towards the tray of your aftercare food and drink, handing you the warm cup of jasmine tea.

"here, some jasmine tea for you." jing yuan smiles. "and some food here, too. if you want it."

your eyes brighten, glistening with delight as you take the cup. your lips meet at the brim of the cup, sipping gently.

securely, jing yuan was admiring you all the same, especially when he started to remember how adorable you looked last night. your cute voice, your mewls and moans, how you softly said his name... now it was his turn to feel embarrassed as he looks away, coughing into his hand.

you blink, looking at him with a bit of concern. "jing yuan? are you sick?"

"n-.. no. don't worry about it. just something was... erm, in my throat." he coughed again before clearing his throat. "i am fine, i reassure you."

you nod, smiling softly before you leaned over, planting a kiss onto your husband's lips. "okay... i believe you. but um... what's the agenda for today? will you be busy?"

"i was going to be busy," jing yuan responded, "but i decided to skip today and take an off day. i wanted to take you out later."

"ah," you tilt your head, "r-really? take me out? to where?"

"well, there's an event happening over at the central starskiff haven. have you been to one of those before?"

you shake your head, "no. what sort of event is it?"

"well, i guess it's like some annual race or whatever... but besides that, there is plenty of food and other stuff i'm sure you'd like. this time, i truly won't leave your side..." he gently squeezed your hand. "...not even a second. security has been heightened too, so you won't have to worry about... getting hurt again. "

you look down to your intertwined hands, safety and happiness washing over you as you nod slowly. "...alright."

over at the starskiff haven, you were immediately met by the bustling sounds of civilians and children joyously chattering amongst themselves. your hand was held by jing yuan the entire time, and never once did he let go of you for anything.

the event was a literal race of different starskiffs. others came to show off their modified engines and appearances, some came to just relax and enjoy the show, others just wanted to be there for the food... and now you were here, doing all of the above (besides racing).

jing yuan, you and lieutenant yanqing were accompanying each other, although yanqing was remaining a great distance from the both of you as he was ordered to remain on the look out for any suspicious activity.

you and jing yuan were just spending time together, not a single worry or doubt filled your guys' minds.

"ah, sesame balls," jing yuan purchased a few of these desserts before handing one to you, "here, have a try. then after, i'll take you to a nice location where you can see the view of the race."

you smile, taking the dessert before taking a bite out of it. realizing it was delicious, you immediately finish the dessert, your eyes brightening. "i-it's good!" you exclaimed as your husband now gave you an entire bag of them.

carrying the bag in your arms, you allowed your husband to take you over to a sky-scrape like building. the two of you traversed into it before finally hitting the top of the roof, where a beautiful tree was growing upon the top. a few people were here with their lovers, and you were merely one of the lovebirds that came to the roof. the tree almost looked similar to a cherry blossom tree, given the dancing of the twirling pink petals that were flying about... it was a beautiful view, especially with the tree's rain of its children.

you look towards jing yuan as he motioned you to come over, allowing you to sit next to him. you weren't really scared of heights, although you were a tad anxious. but you saw the beauty of xianzhou luofu, and... it brought you peace. with how beautiful the sky looked, with how nature beautified it all... you could stay up here forever just admiring the view.

the starskiffs below were racing amongst each other. you could hear the distant cheers of the spectators from below as you watched, smiling as you were watching how fast they were going. it was... fun.

"y/n."

your eyes peel towards jing yuan, a soft look adoring his visage as he was fixated upon you... then your eyes travel to a small, gift wrapped box.

"i've been meaning to give this to you. but... i was unable to."

you blinked as jing yuan placed the box into your hands, and you were met with the soft cool material of the object. you look back up at him, and he initiated with a nod. he wanted you to open it.

"when i had left you for a moment that day in aurum alley, it was to get you this. i was unable to look at it at first without thinking that i failed you, but..."

you opened it, revealing what appeared to be a beautiful jade necklace. it was very simple, very beautiful and nothing too excessively decorated. it was as though it were crafted by the hands of a goddess, and surely enough, it was made to be worn by one.

"...i just didn't want to continue to think like that. so i bought this for you. real jade, and all. fu xuan even enchanted it with some protection charm, as well."

you were silent, unable to say anything, admiring the piece of accessory. slowly, jing yuan extended his hands, lifting the necklace before slowly bringing it around your neck, helping you wear it.

"...y/n."

you look at him, your eyes nearly met with the stinging sensation of tears. you were... undeniably happy. at loss for words.

"...i want to apologize to you, at the bottom of my heart... for letting you get hurt that day."

god, how many times does he have to apologize for this? you already forgave him so many times...

"i should've been stronger to prevent you from g—!?"

to shut him up, you leaned over to give him a kiss, silencing him for a moment. you felt him smile against your lips as he pulls his arms around you, bringing you into his embrace.

"...you...you should stop that." you murmur. "please. it's okay. i'm safe now, aren't i?"

jing yuan nods slowly. you were right. he just... felt incredibly bad.

"...yes. you are. always."

he sighed deeply, his lips tugged to a faint smile. his hand came to hold yours again, digits intertwining.

"...y/n."

"yes... jing yuan?"

there was a moment of silence as his eyes lingered upon your own.

"...i love you."

the gentle breeze of the sky allowed the petals of the cherry-blossom like tree to dance even more, greeting each of their partners with a waltz. your heart had fluttered, your eyes brightening at his confession to you — for the first time, too. yes, the two of you spent that night together. the two of you were basically married. but...

to hear those words... you were filled with pure joy. because... that's how you felt too, with him.

and you can safely say it without a doubt,

"...i love you too, jing yuan!"

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan #jing yuan x reader

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multific · 2 years

Text

Night Out

König x Fem!Reader

König was a sweet, gentle giant.

He is the sweetest little angel. But it didn't mean he couldn't get angry.

Of course, he would get angry when the man didn't understand the word no.

You told the man repeatedly, yet he kept on trying to touch and flirt with you. And while you could handle these things by yourself, this time the guy came onto you harder than anyone before.

And König didn't like that. His grip tightened around the glass of beer which he has been drinking. So dangerously tight he almost broke it.

Suddenly all his social anxiety went out the window. He moved by instinct and with a clear mission in mind. The other watched, observing the rare scene.

"Sir, please leave me alone, as I said I am married." you tried one more time but you were nearing your end now.

"I don't care, and you shouldn't either... I can show you a great time." he said with a smirk, what a disgusting pig he was, you were about to say something when suddenly you saw a huge presence next to the two of you, and both of you looked at the person.

Thankfully, it was exactly the person you hoped it would be.

"Sie sagte, lass sie in Ruhe." (She said, leave her alone.) he said and the man didn't understand a word, but his eyes said it all. "Leave my wife alone." König said again and there was silence. A moment of contemplation on the man's side, trying to figure out if this was worth it.

If this giant of a man was worth it. As if the men saw his life play in front of his eyes, he came to a decision.

Then the man quickly turned and ran so erratically, he knocked over three chairs on his way.

You watched as König's eyes followed the man, the mask on his face making him look more intimidating than ever as his bright eyes looked so angry.

It was weird to see your husband like this. Usually, he was laid back and he let you deal with these kinds of situations most of the time. He knew what you can handle, he had seen it many times.

But not this time, this time he had enough, this time he had enough of these men flirting with his wife right in front of him and he needed to show them who you belonged to. His stance said it all, shoulders pulled back, chest out, he looked bigger than ever.

You smiled as you took a sip from your drink. He finally looked back at you, and you didn't see that anger anymore.

It was your sweet husband once again.

"Nice to see you like that sometimes." He looked at you with a questioning look in his eyes. "Possessive. I was scared you might not like me anymore." That was a lie. You knew he loved you very much, but you did like to tease him a little.

Although you couldn't see his face, you knew he must be pouting at you as his hand moved to your back.

You two could hear the others in the back laughing a little before they turned back to talking.

"Do you want a beer?" you asked, knowing he won't remove the mask, but he was still sneaky enough to drink, somehow.

He shook his head before turning back to the others, leading you back to them so you all can continue with your conversation and celebrate yet another successful mission.

You loved these moments. When all of you got together and all of you were able to have a great time.

Every moment like this was a special one, which you cherished.

You certainly didn't expect your husband to snap like this, but it was still good to see.

You didn't feel bad for the pig, he had it coming, you just felt incredibly warm inside, knowing that König stood up for you when you needed him.

Later, you promised to yourself, later, you will do something to him so he will see stars. But for now, you turned back to the conversation at hand.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig imagine #könig imagines #könig x fem reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare II #modern warefare #modern warefare 2 #modern warfare imagines #modern warfare x reader #x reader #x fem reader

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mommyownsmee · 4 months

Note

hii, do you have any tips for aftercare on dom/mes? like dealing with dom drops etc. i want to take care of them too but i'm not really sure how.

(i love how you explain bdsm, it's so clear and you really care for the community 🥹)

Thank you so much for your message, it‘s incredibly nice of you to think of your Dom/me this way and wanting to practice aftercare for them too.

[I‘ll be calling the/my Submissive S/O in this text because of personal reasons. I‘m writing in a perspective that shows me in a D/S dynamic! I won‘t openly confess to any relationship status here on Tumblr for my own and any other persons personal safety.]

At first I need to explain everything about Dom/me/ Top Drop and what‘s it caused by - so everyone of you understands why a Dom/me needs aftercare too.

If some of you aren‘t interested in this please scroll to the bottom, as that’s where I give examples for aftercare on Dom/mes.

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Of course every Dominant experiences Dom/me/ Top Drop differently and this is just an example for one kind of Dom/me/ Top Drop and one specific kind of trigger. Every Dom/me experiences their Dom/me/ Top Drop differently and for every single one there are different triggers.

Here is how a Dom/me/ Top Drop feels for me:

I get it only shortly after a scene and only if I had an orgasm [where I got touched/penetrated/etc. In fact the orgasm itself is my trigger and that‘s why I often prefer just not to come, which is totally fine for me. It‘s enough for me just to see my S/O in pleasure. It gives me everything I need as a Domme and there is nothing that I miss. I can come from my mind only/ no physical interaction on me or others and this kind of orgasm doesn‘t trigger my Domme/Top Drop at all]:

The scene is over. I’m looking at my S/O, or listening to her breathe on the phone. We’re just there together and everything seems fine. Then, in just an instance, I get this insane amount of longing. I start feeling extremely guilty, especially if my S/O has any marks or bruises or just because of the fact that I just lost control for a second while I had an orgasm. I know it sounds like I‘m a control freak, but in fact it‘s only because I‘m autistic and I like routine. Having an orgasm which got triggered by physical interaction on me is extremely exhausting for my mind and it often happens that I just pass out after them for a minute because those orgasms are extremely intense for me and my body - and this is what really scares me.

So within a few seconds I‘m mentally going through „I need to be held close“ - „Why did I hurt the person I love more than anything else?“ - „Am I enough?“ - „What did just happen? I can‘t remember the last few minutes [only after my orgasm]“ - „Is she okay? I need to check up on her asap“ - „Am I still a good Domme?“ - „My S/O deserves better“ and finally it just ends with „I miss her so much it physically hurts“ and „I just wish she was here/ could come up to me and hold me close and tell me that I‘m enough and everything is fine and we are still we and nothing has changed and that you still love me as much as I love you“.

For me a Dom/me/ Top Drop feels like a gush of depression right in my face. I‘m starting to cry, shake and curl myself up. It‘s awful. I’m starting to rethink my role or effectiveness as her Domme. I maybe notice that I've overthought something during our time together. And above all, I just miss her. Since my S/O and me don‘t live close to each other it‘s hard for me to compensate all of those feelings mostly alone. It‘s a lot better the times she‘s here, but my Dom/me/ Top Drop still happens. I'm aware that it's the amazing chemicals that my body produced while having her with me slowly start to dissipate after our scene and it‘s hard for me to overcome this.

I think the hardest is to filter away the guilt and shame of what we like to do in a scene, and the guilt of what I might have done to my S/O during it. Self acceptance and allowing that to take time is the key. Communication, no matter the distance, is absolutely essential. The biggest thing is to stay honest with myself and my S/O about it. Check-ins are necessary for our dynamic.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In my opinion Dom/me/ Top Drop and Sub Drop are fundamentally different. A Sub Drop is tied to an actual chemical change in the body, endorphins, dopamine, levels changing over the course of moments. I feel like a Dom/me/ Top drop is more mental. The body produces adrenaline and other drugs during a session, and when we are coming down from them, it is like falling into a deep hole sometimes. We feel a remorse, regret, a disappointment for something not going as planned. I think a Dom/me/ Top Drop is similar to fucking up something important at work or in our personal life. When we put our heart and focus into something that we think is important and it doesn't go well we feel responsible and the pain that comes with failure. As Dom/me we are very vulnerable in these moments, and often have problems showing this. Where a Sub might need chocolate and snuggles, a Dom/me needs reassurance and physical touch from their Sub and told that they're human, that mistakes will happen and we learn from them and improve.

In my opinion Top Drops are happening the same way as Sub Drops and aftercare is a must. It's so important for the relationship, or growth can't happen if these things don't work. A Dom/me might need as much reassurance/ love after a scene as a Submissive does - so please always talk about these things before the D/S dynamic starts.

Just don't be too hard on yourself no matter if you’re the Submissive or the Dominant and keep learning.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[for both Dom/me and Submissive]

Affirmations of affection

Reassurance

Talk and communication about the scene in detail (emotions, what to change, what was good, what was bad)

Cuddling

Touches and closeness in silence

Slowly 'come back' to the present

Helping each other clean up

Sharing a shower/ bath after

Watching movies

Jokes and being silly together

Food, fluids

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lightupthemoon · 2 years

Text

kiss me like you wanna be loved

Summary: Your roommate Kate comes back home after a bad date, and you do your best to cheer her up.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word Count: 1 K

Read on AO3

Author's Note: Hello there! The writer's block is real, let me tell you, guys. But I am here with a small fluff piece while I get back on my feet. Enjoy!

You knew you were in love with Kate Bishop from the moment you laid eyes on her. Her charming overconfidence could be overwhelming, which made it impossible for you to even think of telling her how you felt. You settled for getting to know her as a friend, convinced that having her in your life in some capacity was much better than not having her at all.

Years passed by this way. You swallowed the jealousy that bubbled in your chest every time she went out with some idiot that didn't appreciate her enough, and hung on to the idea that, even if it hurt, her happiness was more important than anything else. You never allowed yourself to dream, to imagine a fantasy world when she would feel the same way. You preferred to suffer in silence, watch her go on date after date, before ever entertaining the idea of putting your friendship in jeopardy.

“Hey, can I sleep with you?”

It was a Saturday like any other. Kate had gone on a date, and you had stayed in the apartment you shared, baked a batch of cookies to bury your heartbreak in, and gone into your room to read a romance book you had bought last week to keep your mind away from Kate and whoever was it she was dating this time. She had been excited about it all week, and you faked enthusiasm as much as you could. From the look on the brunette’s face, it hadn’t gone very well.

Kate rested her head against your door frame, looking at you with a hint of sadness in the blue of her eyes. Your roommate was still wearing her heavy wool coat, and her cheeks seemed a little flushed, probably freshly touched by the winter currents. You slid to the left side of the bed, patting the empty spot next to you.

“Always, come on.”

You heard her sigh, taking off her coat as she walked into your room, leaving it on your desk chair. Your attention went back to your book as she got comfortable, lying on her back and crossing her arms over her chest with another sigh escaping her lips.

Your eyebrow rose on an instinct, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing your book. “Bad date?”

Another dramatic sigh. “Yeah,” she responded, unenthusiastically.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, no. You just need to know it was bad.”

“Well, that’s her loss.”

Kate scoffed, the faint tone of a smile in her voice as she replied, “I don’t think she shares your opinion.”

You put your book face down on your nightstand, adjusting your position on the bed so you were facing her. The brunette glanced at you from the corner of her eye, the involuntary pout clear on her face.

“I don’t need her to, I know the truth. Anybody would be lucky to have you, Kate.”

Kate clicked her tongue in disagreement and turned on her side, scooting as close to you as she could. As if it was second nature, you wrapped your arms around her and Kate buried her face in the crook of your neck, her cold cheeks making you shiver. Silence took over the room for a moment, the atmosphere so comfortable you would have drifted into sleep if it wasn’t for how restless the archer seemed to be.

“That has to be a lie,” Kate whispered after a while, sounding much sadder than she had let on before. “No matter how hard I try, it just never seems to work out. Something must be wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Listen–,” You exhaled, pulling away just enough to look into her eyes. “If those girls can’t see how incredible you are, then they don’t deserve you, Kate. I’m sure one day not so far from today there will be someone that will see everything that you are and still love every single thing.” You smiled. “You just need to be patient, okay?”

It was only then that you realized how close you actually were. It was just a matter of anyone moving forward for your lips to meet hers. As the thought crossed your mind, Kate glanced down at your lips, as if she was thinking the exact same thing. Your gazes met again, and you could have sworn you saw the idea swimming in the stormy waters of her eyes that maybe, just maybe, what she had been looking for had been right in front of her all this time, holding her hand through every crisis. Kate only needed to close the gap between you and find out. Tension immediately filled the air, your heart beating so loud against your ribcage you were scared she could hear it. You had thought about this so many times–being this close to her, kissing her. It was a thought you had buried in the deepest part of your being, far away from your reach, because Kate was your roommate, your best friend, and you just couldn’t fathom the idea of not having her in your life. And yet, here you were. Unable to breathe, with her face mere inches away from yours. You knew you needed to pull back and move away from a potential mistake but, before you could do anything, Kate leaned forward and pressed her lips against your own, timidly. Immediately, a warm sensation invaded every inch of your body, eagerly returning the gesture in an act of submission to the unstoppable beating of your heart. The brunette cupped your face with both her hands, pulling you closer, brushing your bottom lip with her tongue in a question to deepen the kiss. Your lips parted opened, granting her access, and soon enough what had started as a shy and soft kiss had turned urgent and passionate. Almost like you had been waiting for that moment for longer than both of you let on, and were just now realizing it.

After what simultaneously felt like an eternity and not enough time, Kate pulled away, keeping your faces so close to one another that the tip of your noses brushed together. You didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the words that were sure to come out of her mouth. You just savored the moment, before reality dawned, and it all passed.

Whatever was to happen next, it had been worth it.

Then, she spoke. “Maybe I already did.”

Before you could even process what she had said, she kissed you again.

TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte @girlssnrosess @musicinourlips @youralphawolf72 @assgardangod

#kate bishop x you #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fluff #hawkeye series #marvel fanfiction #writing #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop #kate bishop smut #hailee steinfeld x reader #etc #kiss me like you wanna be loved

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Text

If You Can't Handle The Heat

〖Notes: I wrote this because I almost passed out yesterday. Oops. Also, it's been years since I played baseball so please excuse me if I messed up on any rules. Also pt 2 I'm writing this at 2 am so it's probably not great.〗

〖Summary: You and the heat are not the best of friends.〗

〖Word Count: 1296 〗

〖Pairing: wandanat x reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

For some damn reason, Steve had decided that the Avengers needed to bond. Maybe it had been the mild infighting, or the fact that you had thrown a metal pot at Tony’s head (he deserved it) but he had declared it, and Tony, still nursing a minor head injury, had agreed. For the ‘bonding experience,’ the men had chosen baseball.

Why baseball? Who knows. Perhaps it was the overly American of the sport nature which Steve thrived on, it could also have had something to do with Tony’s wish to wack something with a bat. In all reality, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that now you all had to play the game and you were cooking in the sun.

The day wasn’t going to get a record for heat or anything, it was only about 80°F but you weren’t drinking enough water and the temperature was getting to you.

You had never been particularly good at handling hot temperatures, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be an issue. In your mind, you should be able to handle it. Everyone else was fine, Steve still even had his shirt on. They were all sweating lightly, but no one looked as uncomfortable as you felt. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

You stood up and took a sharp breath, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from falling over. You leaned against a tree and Wanda touched the back of your thigh, giving you a concerned look. Her beautiful chocolate eyes sparkled in the sun, hinting at the wisdom and mystery behind the orbs. You just smiled, trying to assure her that everything was okay.

Wanda was the only one who wasn’t playing, she had flat-out refused. There was just no arguing with the witch when she had made up her mind, and the look on her face when she had said that she was ‘not playing this stupid American game’ she meant it. She would not be participating.

So instead, the beautiful witch was sitting on a picnic blanket guarding the waters and keeping score. She would cheer whenever a ball got hit, but she didn’t seem to be paying much attention. No one really minded, they had all gotten into the game.

Natasha was ahead of you to bat, muttering to herself about how she was going to kick everyone’s asses and other such obscenities. To be fair, she had the highest batting average according to Wanda’s surprisingly detailed piece of paper.

It was a surprise when she only made a single, hitting the ball almost directly back into Bruce’s mitt. Her annoyance was clear in the way that she glared at the ground, and you, expression that of pure rage. Your girlfriend didn’t handle losing well. That’s why she didn’t lose.

You pulled yourself up to the plate, picking up the bat with heavy limbs. It felt like it weighed a million pounds, the leather grip hot in your hands. You settled into your position, hands choked up on the bat while you stared at Bruce who was ready to throw the ball.

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as if you were swimming through a pool of corn syrup every muscle working overtime to go at half of the speed.

You put every ounce of force behind your swing and the ball connected with a loud crack. Natasha’s face lit up and she turned to run as you threw the bat, springing forward with your eyes set on first base.

You had barely made it three steps in when your entire body began to tingle. The feeling of a thousand ants crawling across your skin wasn't enough, it came with incredible fatigue and the loss of vision around the edges. You could feel yourself losing consciousness, but you continued to run, desperate to keep your teams lead.

As you rounded first base, your limbs turned to jelly, and the darkness in the corners of your eyes became a haze that engulfed everything you could see.

You knew that you were slowing down, but you tried to continue forward, even as your knees buckled and your head bounced against the sand of the baseball diamond. It was only when you found yourself fully splayed out on the ground did you realize that you were falling unconscious.

Your vision continued to dim as cries of your name filled your tinny ears. Oh well, you had given it your best shot. Now at least you could get out of the heat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, there she is. Open those eyes, pretty girl.” A soft voice coaxed, pulling you out of stuffy darkness. You whined softly and wrinkled your nose, an overwhelming sense of cold suddenly washing over you. Why were you so cold? It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t overly uncomfortable, just cold.

Determined to discover the source of the inherent lack of heat, you opened your eyes to find yourself staring up at a terrified-looking Wanda and Natasha who was clearly trying to mask her worry. She wasn’t doing very well.

“Mmm…” You groaned, your entire body aching in protest. Everything hurt, even your eyelids hurt. Parts of your body that you weren’t aware existed hurt. Your ears throbbed, increasing the pain in your throbbing head.

“Hi Y/n, do you remember what happened?” Natasha asked gently, reaching over to card her fingers through your damp hair.

“Why’m’I wet?” You slurred, too tired to move enough to sit up or rollover. Your body was actively working against you and you really weren’t enjoying it. Not that anyone would, but it was particularly frustrating for someone who always needed to be in control.

“You had a temperature of 106°F, you passed out. We got you to medical and put you in an ice bath to cool you back down. Baby, you really scared us.” Wanda whispered, her voice breaking slightly on her emotion. Natasha was blinking back tears, sniffling quietly as she tried to pretend like she wasn’t about to break down.

Now that it had been mentioned, you recognized the medbay. There was an IV in your arm, presumably administering fluids, and you were most definitely not in your bed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t your room.

“Why do’I feel like I got h’t by a bus?” You mumbled, already ready to go back to sleep. You simply had no energy.

“Well, heatstroke tends to do that. You could’ve died. You keep almost dying, do you know how scary that is?” Natasha demanded, shifting onto the cot so that she was spooning you. It had apparently been determined that you had cooled down enough to be cuddled.

“Mhm.” You grunted, too tired to say anything. You reached out with a limp arm and fumbled for Wanda, pulling her over so that she was on your other side.

“This is serious, we can’t just brush past it! You have to take care of yourself, it’s getting dangerous!” The witch insisted, laying stiffly beside you. It wasn’t like she was wrong, it was just that you didn’t care enough. You could care later when it didn’t feel like you had been burnt alive and rehydrated.

“Wands, just let her rest for now. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Natasha sighed, reaching across you to lay a hand on her waist. She hummed her disapproval but relaxed and laid her head against your chest.

You heard the redhead say something about having a few more hours left until something, but you were already falling asleep. It didn’t matter anyways, they’d take care of it. For now, you’d just sleep. Sleep, and figure out what was going on later. Wanda and Natasha would make sure that everything happened as it was supposed to, they always did.

〖Join My Taglist〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @fxckmiup, @animealways, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @kljhsong

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scaredpigeons · 5 months

Text

Aqua Regia IV: Screaming at the sunshine, singing in the rain.

Previous chapter // Next chapter // First chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

The honourable Iudex realizes that you are much more fragile than he is, and perhaps standing in the cold rain isn’t the best for your health.

Authors Note: little suggestive again, but man am i ever loving this awkward tension and inner turmoilllllll heheheheh

————

It was raining again.

He really couldn’t help himself, the emotions churning within him as he stormed away from the entrance to the fortress. He kept a calm facade as he eyed everyone— people going about their day, although complaining about the rain.

He’s sure he would complain too, if it didn’t feel so soothing on his skin.

It poured, and poured. He stood still then, watching as everyone around him rushed off, finding shelter or just running to their destinations as opposed to walking.

He could barely see three feet in front of him, the rain a heavy curtain on his angst.

How could he have done such a thing? So careless and violent?

He was well aware of the friendship between you and Duke Wriothesley. He spoke of you with Neuvillette just weeks after you were hired.

“Oh, you hired her?” Wriothesley said, smiling thoughtfully. “You’ll love her, she’s such a doll. Has she started doting on you yet? Wishing to cater to your every whim if it so pleases his honour?”

Neuvillette wrinkled his nose a bit at the tease, choosing to ignore the strange feelings stirring within him at Wriothesley’s comments. “You know of her?”

Wriothesley laughed. “Know of her? She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. We used to terrorize the streets together as kids. Sneaking out and causing all kinds of trouble. All within the law, of course.” He winked.

“Oh?” Neuvillette was genuinely intrigued. A friend of the Duke of Meropide was certainly a worthy character. You seemed to be interconnected with many aspects of his life before he even knew you. If he believed in fate, perhaps one might say it was destiny that brought you to his employment. “I thought you didn’t keep many friends, being quite isolated down here.”

“Is the honourable Iudex attempting to start a personal conversation?” Wriothesley smirked, setting down his cup. “Regardless, she’s one of the few people I enjoy making time for. Very genuine, very caring. One in a million, if you ask me. Don’t go firing her if she does something stupid like spilling your tea, she deserves this job.”

“I am not so petty as to do such a thing, your grace.” Neuvillette bristles. “She has proved to be an excellent assistant, and I foresee her continuing to do so.”

And you were excellent, he found himself caring very deeply for you. So when he rounded the top of the stairs to Wriothesley’s office and saw his hand resting so comfortably on your arm, he should have been fine, just fine.

Perhaps he should have cleared his throat, maybe verbally announced his presence.

But a dark, angry and possessive thing welled up inside him, rearing his ugly green head at the sight of someone else touching you, touching what was his—

Neuvillette hung his head in shame, squeezing his eyes shut at the thoughts running through his mind.

No, you were not his. His assistant, maybe?

No, this was deeper. More primal. It ate at a part of him and he wanted it gone. He felt so disturbed, so disgusting and ashamed.

You didn’t deserve these kinds of thoughts, they were ugly and unprofessional. You were an incredibly hard worker, kind and dedicated—you deserve the utmost respect from him. Not… not whatever this was.

Just as you ran through his mind, his sensitive ears heard your footsteps running their way closer to where he stood in the rain.

“Monsieur!” You yelled over the sound of water pounding into the pavement. “Monsieur Neuvillette!” You finally made it close enough that he could see you more clearly now, your dress soaked right through, hair damp and clinging to your face and ears. You blinked the rain from your eyes, looking around frantically until you spotted him, before you ran right up to him, clutching the sleeve of his soaked coat.

“Sir! Are you okay?” You said loudly, tugging on him slightly. “Neuvillette?”

“You’re soaked to the bone,” he said aimlessly, watching as water poured over your skin, eyes following the trails down your face and neck, until they disappeared into the heavy fabric of your clothes.

“So are you!” You looked up at him. “I know you love walking in the rain, but it's rather cold today, don’t you think?” Your eyebrows tightened with concern, a careful smile on your face.

Your question seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, and he realized that— yes, it is rather cold today, and you were standing here with him, soaked through. While he didn’t have to worry much about illnesses, you very much did.

“Oh, my!’ He shook away the pity party he was throwing himself, (a term he learned while working very closely with furina for many years,) gently taking your arm and pulling you towards his home, which was only a few buildings away. “Please, this way!”

You followed dutifully, and he couldn't help but think your skin felt too cold through the damp fabric where he held your arm as he pulled you along. He unlocked his door in record time, ushering you in and closing it behind him.

“You have my sincerest apologies, but—“ he stuttered, turning to look at you in bewilderment and concern. “Why did you follow me even after it started raining? You should have turned right around and gone back to the fortress! Or to your own home!”

You wrung out your hair a bit, letting the water splash onto his front door mat, which was now nearly soaked with the two of you standing, dripping on it. “You seemed like you were troubled, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He stared at you, now aware at how close you were standing to fit onto his door mat.

“I…” his gaze flickered in between your eyes, until it fell to the floor. He felt ashamed for raising his voice, even if it was out of concern. “You need a warm shower, and dry clothes.”

“Oh,” you said, turning towards the door, “I can just go—“

“No.” He said sternly. “No, please. Just one moment.”

He hurried upstairs to his room, leaving you in the foyer. He avoided making direct eye contact with his nest as he gathered up what he needed from his room. He stripped down his outermost layers, hanging them up as he went.

He gathered a towel, a washcloth, one of his spare sleep shirts, and a light pair of his nicest cotton sleep pants, (an older pair with a drawstring) he brought the pile back out into the foyer, and instructed for you to follow him.

He led you to the downstairs bathroom, setting the pile down on the counter.

“I’ll be in the kitchen, making some hot tea to warm you further. Please, take your time.”

You blinked at him in bewilderment, before looking around his bathroom.

“I…” you shook your head a bit, as if to shake your thoughts away. A rather comical action in his mind, but he was distracted by your form— which has started to shiver.

“Please, before you catch a cold.” He said, and you simply nodded at him, so he took it as a little victory and promptly vacated the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

——————

You were in Neuvillettes house.

In his bathroom, standing shivering in soaking wet clothes.

Clothes you needed desperately to get out of.

So why were your limbs frozen?

Why were you so awestruck at the fact that Neuvillette, someone who purposely kept people at arms length— had invited you into his home, urged you to get into a hot shower and warm clothes, (his clothes) and was probably making you tea as you debated just jumping out the window and making a break for it.

No, no. You wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself. You would simply do as he instructed, wait out the rain, and return home to pretend that none of this ever happened, for the better part of your sanity.

All you wanted was to make sure Neuvillette was alright. He’d been acting a bit strangely the past few weeks, and you couldn’t help but worry for him.

You gave your cheeks a couple good smacks, trying to pull yourself together.

Without putting too much thought into it, you started the shower and began undressing.

Within seconds, the water was steaming, much better than anything you had growing up, and a bit more efficient than your current apartment shower.

Neuvillette lived in one of the older buildings in the court, yet the interior seemed to be completely new and updated. You wonder how long he’d lived here.

You began the grueling process of stripping out of your wet and heavy clothes, hanging them over the top of the shower stall door.

You tried not to think too much about the fact you were standing naked in your boss's bathroom, and grabbed the washcloth he provided you before hopping into the warm shower.

You instantly felt better, and let a long groan of satisfaction slip as you let the water flow over you.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, suddenly remembering that Neuvillette 100% had heightened senses, and could most likely hear every sound you made, considering he could determine your heart rate from across a room. You did not want him thinking you were doing something inappropriate in his shower.

You let the water fall on you silently as you thought more about him, and his peculiarities that you’d noticed. You had a couple theories about him, perhaps now would be a good time to ask for the truth.

You looked around the stall, spotting some soaps and shampoos that didn’t seemed to be used very much, and you surmised that Neuvillette must have a personal bathroom in his room, or on the second floor.

You flushed a bit before you grabbed the soap, bringing it beneath your nose to take a deep breath, smelling the soap.

Yep, it smelled like him. And no, you would not think too hard about why you knew his scent so well.

Of course Neuvillette would only buy one kind of soap and put it in every bathroom, what happens if he decides to shower downstairs one night? He certainly didn’t have very many guests, considering Wriothesley told you that he’d only just now started opening up to others.

You chewed your lip as you lathered the washcloth in his soap, before scrubbing away the cold that still seeped into your bones.

You really hoped that the altercation at the fortress didn’t affect their relationship.

What even happened there?

Why did Neuvillette react in such a way? Did he think that Wriothesley was harming you in some way? No, he knew better than that, Wriothesley would never, and Neuvillette knows that.

So what was it?

You wracked your brain as the warmth finally spread through you, and the chill from the rain had finally left. You couldn’t come to a logical conclusion and decided you would ask him when the time felt right.

You finished your shower relatively quickly, indulging only a little bit at the warmth and smell of Neuvillettes soap surrounding you before you got out and dried yourself off.

Your things were still soaked, but Neuvillette had left some clothes in a pile for you, so you pulled them off the counter and held them up to your frame.

They were definitely his clothes, and your cheeks felt hot as you realized you would be wearing his things, in front of him. In his house. Smelling like his soap.

You felt like your face was going to melt off as you shrugged on the shirt, it falling just above your knees and the sleeves being far too long.

You’d never really acknowledged it before, but Neuvillette truly was a lot bigger than you, he was a lot bigger than most people. Tall, with broad shoulders and a lean waist that he hid under all of that finery he insisted upon wearing.

You eyed the pants he gave you, seeing that at least they had a drawstring, so you had some hope of them staying on your hips.

After pulling everything on, you quietly creeped out the door, looking up and down the hallway as if you were expecting him to be standing there waiting for you.

Instead, you were met with silence. You closed the bathroom door, and as you stepped into the hall, you heard your name called out from a room just a few feet to your right.

Your bare feet papped against the hardwood as you treaded down the hall, before you stopped in the doorway of a beautiful living room, a large sofa and comfortable looking reading chairs facing a rather opulent fireplace, which was blazing with glorious heat.

“Here,” Neuvillette said, standing and coming behind you. He guided you to the couch, having you sit against the comfortable throw pillows on the arm rest as he pulled a blanket across your shoulders. The act felt so domestic it made your heart lurch, but you just huddled into the soft fleece and tried to blink away your shame.

“Are you feeling the cold still? I have tea ready if you would like it.” He turned as if to go get it, but you reached out a hand, gentle fingers tugging on the sleeve of his freshly changed shirt, dry and warm.

“No, ah—“ you looked in your lap, removing your hand, feeling incredibly embarrassed at your impulsive actions. “I’d honestly just like if you sat with me and kept me company for now, if that's alright.”

“Oh.” He said, turning back towards you. “That should be fine, yes.”

He sat down on the other end of the couch, the obscenely long and ornate thing was surprisingly comfortable, and looked incredibly antique, though extremely well maintained. You couldn't help but mourn the space the couch left between the two of you, but you knew those thoughts weren’t appropriate.

“Are you feeling more comfortable?” He asked, eyes on the crackling fire.

The warm glow illuminated his profile beautifully, and your heart ached once more at how stunning this man was. You hated yourself for being so weak to something as superficial as someone’s appearance, but Neuvillette had to be the most beautiful man you’d ever had the pleasure to meet.

He turned to face you, and you watched his lips form your name as he called out to you in concern, obviously waiting for a response.

“What?” You blinked at him, watching his ethereal eyes reflect the glow of the fire, the light casting part of his face into the shadows of the room, making the contours of his face more apparent. “Sorry, yes. I’m comfortable.”

You squirmed as you realized your thoughts were at risk of traveling somewhere less than savory incredibly quickly, and you refused to ruin this man's pants with your shame, if only for the fact that you would have to throw yourself from the falls afterwards— and that might upset him more than the pants.

“Good, good.” He said, turning back and looking towards the fire once more. He seemed stiff, and the silence was becoming awkward.

You looked past him to the living room window, the darkness of the evening creeping in as the rain battered against the window, showing zero signs of calming any time soon. You were either going to need to learn to start a casual conversation with the Iudex, or this encounter would be the death of you.

#genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #genshin imapct #genshin impact x reader

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baileys-writing-desk · 3 months

Text

The Afternoon Sun

Four was gravely injured in a monster attack, and it took everything Hyrule had to save him. Two days on, the smithy finally learns of the strange place he’s ended up in: Faron’s basin.

(This is concurrent with The Morning Sun, but it can be read on its own)

AO3

In Four’s brief moments of wakefulness, a strange blue creature towers over him…and there’s water all around…he’s in water. Why?

“Don’t worry, Link. You’re safe…”

He has no choice anyway, the smithy remembers as he floats in and out. He can’t leave…he doesn’t know what’s going on. Briefly he is met with the blurry face of the veteran standing in front of him, but even that doesn’t last long as his eyes slowly slip closed again.

“Four…”

“No- don’t fall asleep…yet…”

The next time he stirs, his body is still overcome with weakness, but he has gained just enough awareness to truly think, of what in Hylia’s name could have happened for him to end up here. He whines as his mind draws a blank.

Then a voice sounds from above.

“Ah! Back again, little Link. You with me, boy?”

Four slowly peels his eyes open. The familiar-looking giant blue creature from earlier- or at least a blurry distortion of it- peers down at him from above. He’s still partially submerged in water, with dark walls curving up over him in a circular shape.

Where…exactly am I?

What is that thing??

He grunts, trying and failing to blink the blurriness out of his vision. His body is still incredibly drained…although he must have been asleep for quite a while. The water drips and ripples slightly around him, as the creature extends her arm forward and dips what looks to be two fingers in. Testing the waters, he presumes. But why? Why is he in water?

Must not be regular water.

“Still warm enough…” it mutters, raising its arm back up. “Boy, please speak if you can hear me, will you? It does no good talking to myself.”

…But what kind of water is this?

Four hesitates. The creature wants him to speak; he must not leave it waiting.

“Wh- who are you…?” he croaks, voice incredibly dry. He tries to clear his throat but simply coughs instead. Damn…All this water around yet his mouth still feels like a desert.

“Ah, I suppose I have yet to introduce myself. Now that you seem coherent enough, I shall.” The creature’s blurry face begins to focus a little, showing dark eyes and purplish lips against the pale blue. Two long string-like antennae wave around the sides of her head. “I am Lady Faron, the Water Dragon and warden of the woods. You, young boy, are in my hall within the lake. Now don’t worry, you’re safe here with me.”

Faron…He’s heard that name before. But where…?

The smithy frowns, raising a hand out of the water to touch his forehead. “…And why am I-“

“In my basin, you ask?” Faron chuckles. “That one’s easy. It’s to heal you. In case you don’t remember, you were gravely injured.”

…Oh.

A faint memory drifts in, of his inability to parry a monster’s sharp blade. I was stabbed.

“I…I do.” Four groans, eyebrow furrowing as he starts to make out more of Faron’s features. “You…saved me?”

“Now, boy, don’t give me all the credit here. Another of your companions used all his magic to close your wounds. That is what saved you. But you were still far too weak….” She pauses. “The water you are lying in is my sacred water, which acts as a healing bath.”

Another of your companions…

Hyrule. It had to be Hyrule.

He drops his hand back into the water, noticing the tingling effects of the dragon’s magical substance.

“So tell me, little Link…how do you feel?”

“I’m…” The questions swim through his head. Where’s Rulie? Why does Faron sound so familiar? “…I’ve been better, just so tired…”

Is Rulie okay?

“Are you in any pain?”

Slowly and gently, he shakes his head, being mindful of the dull ache. “Where’s…Hyrule?”

“Oh, him? He’s resting with the Thunder Dragon in his domain. Don’t worry, he’s in very good hands. Lanayru’s grown quite attached to that boy.”

…Lanayru?

This must be Sky’s era, he realizes.

And something comes to mind about three guardian dragons…Lanayru, Eldin?…and Faron. Of course. Water Dragon. He blames his muddled brain for not putting the pieces together earlier.

“Is…anyone else here?” he manages. “…Legend?” Yes. The vet was here, right?

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” Faron frowns, glancing around the rest of the hall which Four cannot see from the basin. “It’s only you and me. Well…and my Kikwis.”

Your- what??

A small splash comes from his right. Slowly the confused smithy turns his head, as far as he can without dipping his face in the water. Something is there next to him. Something like…a very weird-looking- what?? It stares at him with cute eyes and chuckles, opening its bird-like beak slightly.

“Wh-“ Four startles. “-what the hell is that thing??”

Faron only laughs. “Ah, little Link, I assume it’s your first Kikwi encounter. Now don’t worry, he won’t harm you. If he does, boy, tell me and he’s dinner!”

He coughs from the effort of raising his voice, gazing at the little Kikwi playing in the shallow water. What even are those??

And what was that about dinner?

“No…I won’t eat that…whatever it is.” Four mutters, turning his head back to face Faron.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be eating him!” The Water Dragon grins mischievously. “I will.”

Suddenly it all clicks.

It’s her. Faron. That bitchy dragon who eats things smaller than her. And Four is quite a bit smaller—

Oh no.

This can’t be good.

Too weak to sit up fully, he flails his hands and attempts to scamper back, startling the poor Kikwi. “Nonono…” he squeaks out. “Donteatmedonteatmedonteatmedont-“

“Hey, relax!” Faron’s eyes widen. “Did I say I was going to eat you?”

“No, but…I’ve heard things-“

“Of course you have. My Link must have put that idea into your little head.” She scoffs. “Four, I won’t eat you. Take my word.”

The smithy takes a deep breath, laying back down into the water, exhausted from the energy he had just used. Beside him the Kikwi chortles.

“You promise?” he asks, almost in a whisper.

“On my life.”

Wow. She’s serious about this. He still doesn’t quite know if he can trust her…but it’s not like he has much of a choice. The walls of the basin are far too high for him to climb out, and she most likely wouldn’t let him leave in his condition.

He lets out a long sigh. “…Okay.”

I guess I’ll trust you.

“Well! I’m glad we got that sorted out.” The Water Dragon laughs, then pauses to think. “You’ve been in my hands for over a day, it would be a shame if we didn’t get along, now, wouldn’t it?”

Four slowly nods his head, feeling the sacred water continue to gradually lessen the ache. The Kikwi steps closer to him and taps his cheek.

“And me too! I’ve been by your side, kwee!”

Wait. Did that Kikwi just talk?!

He gasps in surprise, wide eyes staring at the small creature. “You…you can talk too??”

“Ah yes, they can.” Faron answers first. “I suppose that’s a detail I should have mentioned before.”

The Kikwi giggles. “Sorry to startle you, little Link. I’m Machi, kwee!”

Machi. What an interesting name.

“H-hi…Machi. It’s nice to meet you, um…” The smithy hesitates. “You can call me Four.”

“Like the number, I know! How peculiar. Where did that name come from, kwee?”

Oh Hylia…Four groans in displeasure. Now is not the best time to explain the whole story of the Four Sword and how he can split into four people, it's…Too much. Far too exhausting.

“Now Machi, don’t overwhelm him.” Faron’s voice, for once, relieves him. “He’s too weak for explaining, that can come later.”

Thank goodness.

“Oh…my apologies, kwee.” Machi’s eyes droop slightly, and Four briefly reaches out to pat its belly.

“It’s okay,” he mutters. The small Kikwi smiles before stepping back to glance up at Faron. Why do they say ‘kwee’ all the time?, he wonders. These little creatures are quite peculiar.

Four takes a deep breath, resting his eyes and letting his body relax once more. Normally he would be able to deal with all these new discoveries; he would be fascinated at Faron and the Kikwis and their ways of life. He would ask Faron why this basin is clearly made for her, and if she’s ever had to use it. He would leave the hall and take a swim for a while, studying the marine life in this unfamiliar region and telling Hyrule excitedly about his findings.

But he is far from strong enough…nowhere near his full self. That will all have to wait, too.

“Little Link, you still look quite drained.” Faron comments. Yep, sounds about right. “Perhaps I shall leave you some space. The more you rest, the quicker you will be healed, boy.”

He blinks his eyes back open, giving the Water Dragon a slight smile. “...Fair enough.”

“I’m sure Lanayru will come by soon. When you’re better, he can pick you up and take you back to your little friend…Hyrule.”

His heart flutters at her mention of the Traveler. Magic exhaustion, he remembers. Rulie has never been out for more than a couple days…he should be waking up soon, right? I hope he’s okay.

“How- how long will this take?” he mumbles. “...To heal, I mean.”

“I’ll be straight with you, Four, the wounds you sustained were severe. Your friend’s healing saved your life, but I estimate several more days before you can be up and around.”

Well, that’s just great. Looks like he won’t be leaving this basin anytime soon.

At least Faron and Machi are decent company. He’s heard scary stories about Faron and her threats to eat almost anything, but at this point she clearly won’t do it to him. The Kikwis, weird as they are, seem quite nice. And he can still hope for visits, from one of his brothers or Lanayru.

“...Okay,” he answers, nodding slowly. He can hear Machi playing in the water, still by his side, while Faron grins.

“You’re a strong hero, little Link,” she assures him. “I have faith in you. Now…I’ll be right back, boy. Please let yourself rest, and don’t go anywhere.”

Four chuckles at her comment. “I won’t, thanks.”

Unless someone comes to take him from the basin, he is most definitely not going anywhere.

He waits for her to disappear out of sight, listening to the sound of her diving underwater, before letting out a long sigh. The lingering tiredness is beginning to win over once again…

You’re safe now. You’re okay.

As he slowly drifts off, he pictures the day when he can finally reunite with Hyrule and the others.

#bailey writes #linked universe #lu four #faron the water dragon #skyward sword #sky’s era #machi the kikwi!#poor four he’s so freaked out he’s never seen a Kikwi ever #wait til he sees the Parella…haha #tw injury #(not graphic)#faron can be nice to people guys woooow #she basically calls all the younger links little link #lanayru and hyrule mentioned

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Text

Girl Talk

MC & Poppy Sweeting: fluffy girl chat about spicy stuff and things (and a particular Slytherin bad boy) 😋 🌶

MC lay back in the grass with a sigh. What a beautiful afternoon it had turned out to be, the sun warm on her head, a soft breeze tickling at her hair. Reading had turned her eyes sleepy and so she had stopped to rest them. Turning her head, she could see Poppy still had her nose buried between the pages of her book. "What is that you're reading?" She asked.

Poppy's eyes flicked up briefly and grinned. "I found it in the library, it's actually quite scandalous."

MC quirked a brow. "How so?"

Poppy actually blushed. "Its a romance," she said. She glanced around them to check for eavesdropping before leaning closer to MC to whisper. "There are love scenes that are incredibly passionate, actual bodice ripping displays of relations between the main character and her lover. Its an eye opener for sure!"

MC sat back up. "And you found this in the library? My goodness...show me!"

Poppy giggled and flicked to the page, handing it to MC. She read a few lines and felt her cheeks flush. "Oh my..."

"I can only imagine how it must feel to have a boy lay his hands on you in such a way," Poppy gasped.

MC read a few more lines, her eyes widening and her pulse quickening at the vivid description of the lovers. She looked up at her friend. "So, you've never...you know...let a boy..."

"Oh gosh, no! The furthest I ever got was a kiss on the lips from a boy in 4th year at the Summer Ball. I've not felt close enough to any boy to imagine letting him do anything more than that." She gave MC a look. "Not like you and Sebastian."

MC gaped. "Excuse me?"

"Are you two not close?" Poppy asked. "You are always together."

"Not this close!" MC squeaked, holding the scandalous book up.

Poppy giggled and put a hand to her mouth. "Forgive me," she said. "Although, I am a little surprised. Have you not even kissed?"

MC shrugged. "He has kissed my forehead a couple of times, but nothing more than a friendly gesture."

Poppy quirked a brow. "And you've never lay in your bed at night and imagined what it would be like to kiss him properly," she teased. She gave the book a nudge with her finger. "Or perhaps, touch you under your clothes like the lover in this book."

"Poppy!" MC flushed scarlet and closed the book with a slap. It was utterly pointless though, the words had painted such vivid images that they were firmly imprinted in her mind now.

Poppy burst into a fit of giggles and tugged the book back from MC, hugging it to her chest and uttering a dramatic sigh. "Oh Sebastian, Sebastian, I beg you, touch me!" She cried out the words before launching into another burst of giggles.

MC's face was far too hot and she gave a Poppy a shove in disbelief, glancing wildly about them lest anyone had heard Poppy cry out such a thing. Poppy could do nothing but giggle as she tumbled down onto the grass beside MC, still clutching the book. "Stop that, Poppy," MC hissed. "You're being ridiculous!"

"Oh, MC, I'm sorry, " Poppy giggled. She sat up and put a hand on her arm. "But, in all seriousness, if anyone was going to be the boy to hold you in such a way, would it not be Sebastian? I have seen you two together, he adores you, I just know he does."

MC scowled and shook her head. "I think you have been reading that book too much, Poppy Sweeting. It has put thoughts into your head that should not be there."

"Ooh, the girl doth protest too much!"

MC felt another wave of warmth scorch her cheeks. The saucy images in her mind tumbling together with Sebastian's smile, his cheeky flirting, the way he moved during Crossed Wand duels. MC tugged at her shirt collar and cleared her throat.

Poppy's smile was too knowing and gleeful. "Admit it, MC," she said. "You're thinking about it."

MC stared at Poppy's eager face, biting her lower lip, fighting to hold her resolve in place. Who was she kidding here? "Oh, Poppy," MC groaned. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her burning cheeks with her hands. "I cannot lie to you."

Poppy clapped her hands together in delight. "So, you do think of him? MC, please tell me you do!"

MC nodded and Poppy squealed in excitement, discarding the book and throwing her arms around her friend. "I knew it!"

MC laughed and hugged Poppy in return. "Dont you dare speak one word of this to anyone, especially Sebastian!"

"But I won't need to, MC," Poppy said, pulling back to look at her. "You can tell him yourself, better still, you can show him."

"What?"

Poppy picked up the book and held it out to MC. "Here, take this. You can use it for inspiration."

MC eyed the book, terrified and intrigued all at once. "I can't!"

"You absolutely can," Poppy said. "There is no way he will refuse you, the boy is mad about you, and you him. Go get him!"

MC took a deep breath. This was madness! But she took the book from Poppy nonetheless and Poppy's smile couldn't have been any wider.

"Don't forget, I want all the juicy details!"

Now they were both giggling in the afternoon sunlight. MC thanking Merlin, and any other legend who cared to listen, for sending her a friend such as Poppy.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow #poppy sweeting #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwartslegacyfriendships

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ctheathy · 1 year

Note

Hi I love your story and I read your secret histories story and I love it, I wanna ask if your not busy how about a yandere secret history tails x reader where she is a kind and sweet person who never judge someone by their appearance and she dotes and pampers him a lot

Yandere Secret History Tails w/ sweetheart!Darling

Secret History Tails x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author’s note : Why hello, Nonnie!! Of course you may, my darling, hope you’ll be able to enjoy<3<3 My apologies for slight inactiveness, I assure each and every one of you that more headcanons of our lil ol’ psycho and other characters are also coming up; things have just been a teensy tiny bit busy for me lately, but I do try keeping up with the requests. Don’t want to let yall down💞

Quick note that I do not write for gendered Readers much though!! Accidents can happen when requesting, and I promise I am not upset, but just so everyone understands that gender is not something I’m going after.

Due to the request describing identical characteristics for the Reader as the one in my A Once Innocent Act of Tenderness fic and no specified choice of content was asked for, headcanons with that particular darling were chosen =} Just see it as a minor backup continuation of the story.

A Once Innocent Act of Tenderness ➷

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Delusional mindsets • Obsessive + Possessive behaviour • Murder + Torture mention • Forced relationship • Co-dependency • Kidnapping • Worship • Psychological abu$3 • Brainwashing trauma [On Tails’ part] • Tails may as well get his own TW tbh

Outwardly there doesn’t seem to be all too big of a difference between yandere Secret History Tails and his neutral version. They’re both still very much sociopathic, show clear signs of unhinged behaviour and may get obsessive streaks from time to time, are manipulators at heart, can remain atleast somewhat delusional about both of your relationship with one another and they too view you as something much more above than any other mobian that might have their ways in their pathetic unworth of a universe. And although he normally could have recovered from this mindset slowly with the help by his side, his full on yandere form however, does not. And all honestly speaking, it wouldn’t even be likely to occur in the first place without a specific darling that is kind and has been there from the very beginning; when his trauma of brainwash has developed into something else ...and certainly not something in a positive light. It’s safe to say that this version of his may even be more disturbed than the sanity of his usual self, and that information alone is enough to bring in that you’re going to be stuck on quite the bumpy ride.

While his usual worshipping behaviour would hold nothing malicious behind it, this case is a little more ... interestingly different to say the least. Unlike his casual form who most easily said puts you in the place which was originally meant to be taken by Sonic after you’ve came along and properly earned it; this state of his and his already existing delusions have caused him to literally believe you to be his own personal guardian angel, being there for him in order to protect him from all the wrongs, misery and injustice in this existence. Unlike usual, at an early point he knows that the “real” Sonic of his dimension doesn’t want him, just letting the hedgehog take advantage of his seemingly non-lucid state and torment him to no end; causing him to both grow incredibly touch starved for any kind of gentle offering and worsening his already unstable mindset. And the one simple change that makes all the difference between the two is how he’d normally find himself giving in over time torwards your doting nature with him in particular, while this version of his had already emotionally snapped before he even got the chance to do so. Now the only motivations being left to linger in the back of his mind being the one entity that’s been sweet to him right from the start, and the desperate desire to just take them in as his own--His property. The others have been able to keep you and your dearing behaviour all to themselves for far too long by now, it’s only fair.

As information that’s been given before, a darling like this has him fairly taken aback, the sweet demeanour being, quite sadly said, totally foreign to him. On one hand he wants to give in, wants to achieve the gentleness that’s right on the end of the line and so easily accessible, the desires for the consideration and care becoming close to unbearable to him; but right at the same time, he feels suspicious torwards the close to angelic aura around them, feeling as if it’s nothing more and nothing less than some mere act. This distrust being caused by the harassment he’s got back when he wasn’t even in this position as Sonic’s best friend, despite the lack of memory from it. You’re too sweet for your own good, too perfect; of course it couldn’t be genuine. Another thing potentially stalling him is the fact how Sega has quite literally made him believe how his existence is meant to be surrounded by Sonic, it becoming closer to convincing him farther how it holds absolutely zero meaning without the blue hedgehog being in the picture. But even despite these thoughts of protest, the fox can only take so much. there’s gonna be some point where he cannot suppress these feelings anymore.

Even though his usual self is no exception to causing deaths of those that just so happened to cause immense discomfort or pain to you; another thing that can be written off as a big change is that he’s a whole lot more violent torwards any potential rivals, quite literally going off for torture right off the bat, unlike his casual self who just wishes to get the job done with by blowing the said mobian into hundreds of little bits by his excellent yet dangerous explosives. His yandere form however ... Is absolutely not comparable; his actions now being much more similar to how he treated his victims at the end of secret histories. The two-tailed fox absolutely has zero restraints over himself and is often completely out of control when doing so, the blood of his nemesis covering the floor and walls and psychopathic laughter filling the air. Another important aim being how unlike he would have behaved with Sonic’s case, he would be a whole lot more secretive about the entire murder thing around you. He wouldn’t want to upset his precious and divine admirer now, would he? You’d slowly notice those around you starting to disappear into thin air, each and every acquaintance vanishing only to never see the light of day ever again.

Something else I could picture is that he specifically holds immense grudges against any other Tails counterparts of his, going as far to just take care of the little issue almost immediately after notice. Despite being the filthy imposters they are, he’ll likely feel as if their chances with you rival his own, knowing just as well that they’re close to identical in appearance and intelligence. And if anything, he likely feels the most threatened by them, knowing they could all charm and lure you in all the same way you were captivated by him to begin with.

As for his behaviour torwards his darling after legitimately cracking and taking them in out of said ‘‘protection”, it could mostly be written down as both having a rather clingy and worshipping attitude, yet surprisingly distant right at the same time; not wanting to scare them off. You’re not going anywhere, he knows that much, but having them dreadfully fear him to no avail in improvement over time would absolutely crumble the fox to pieces. He absolutely doesn’t mean any kind of harm torwards his darling, to the point of quite literally not daring to lay a finger on them; but if it wasn’t already obvious before, he has clear limits to his patience. Although not directed torwards them, he can be found growing aggressive due to the lack of emotional touch and is often one to take it out on the unfortunate bystanders nearby, gifting you their still beating hearts as his own little way to show his graciousness torwards you, not realising in the slightest how terrified it truly makes them.

Don’t get me wrong, he adores you with your entire being, he really does; but he has never learned to express them the right way. And I cannot really help but see him as a whole lot more repulsive and abominable as a yandere due to one particular reason. The core of his delusions stop him from thinking properly while it causes refusal torwards the evidence literally laying in front of him; being blinded by unrealistic beliefs and inflicting them onto his poor darling in a sense of purification, all while holding them hostage in a cold and dusted basement. He’d also be a whole lot less obedient to what his darling has to say, feeling as if he’s protecting them despite their protests. You’re silly, of course your naiveness wouldn’t let you catch up with all the potential threats--those rubbish imposters just wandering around you throughout the day. And although the confidence in his beliefs has caused them to become close to being the actual truth in his own unhinged headspace,

that hasn’t stopped him from psychologically harming his darling over and over again.

#secret history tails #yandere secret history tails #mashed tails #sh tails #secret history tails x reader #yandere tails x reader #tails x reader #yandere tails #yandere sonic the hedgehog #sonic x reader

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trektraveler · 1 year

Text

Geronimo

Summary: Dean and Y/N. Oil and water. Always at each other's throats, their endelss bickering comes to a boil and Y/N has had it. She storms out of the bunker leaving Dean high and dry! Well, he isn't about to let her get the last word! What happens when he catches her?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean x Reader, Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Bickering, Mud Wrestling, Kissing, fluff

Word Count: 4563

One Shot

Author’s Notes: This is a follow up to Trouble (more or less). I've had this in my WIP for quite a while. My other stories are a little stalled right now, but the muse visited me for this one.

I do think this will be a series at some point... I mean, we all need another series to work on, right?! Right??? Maybe need is a strong word...

Masterlist

Dean was ready to climb the walls. He hated research; nose buried in some musty book that was written centuries ago, the pictures always sucked. And it was quiet work. Sam refused to let him play any good music when he was working, and Charlie had those massive headphones on. Then there was Y/N.

A picture of scholarly serenity, she fit right in with the damned Men of Letters. Three stacks of books stood in tall, narrow towers in front of her organized by publication date. Her laptop was open to her left running a scan on her personal database and a pot of Darjeeling tea that she claimed was excellent for concentration sat mostly untouched. Even after hours of research she maintained that perfect posture as she added notes to a yellow steno pad already half filled with her neat shorthand. Not a hair out of place, not a smudge of ink on her fingers, even her over-sized glasses were clear of fingerprints.

How can anyone be so perfect? It was freaking annoying!

He let his gaze wander over her form. She was wearing another one of those impossibly soft sweaters the color of cranberries that covered her from neckline to wrist. Probably meant to be modest but somehow looked incredibly sexy on her. She shifted in her seat and reached for a book, causing the bottom hem to hitch up just slightly over the waistband of her pants. The movement exposed a thin leather belt and about an inch of her lower back. Creamy skin that Dean really wanted to touch, see if it felt as silky as it looked. See if she tasted as good as she smelled.

God! Why did she always smell so damned good?

Dean growled in the back of his throat and slammed shut the book in his lap.

Sam glanced over at his brother, “You good, Dean?”

“We are getting nowhere with this and I am losing my damned mind.”

“Why don’t you have a cup of tea,” Y/N suggested, not looking up from her research, “It will help calm your nerves.”

“I thought you said it helped with concentration,” Dean muttered.

“It helps with both,” she replied, irritatingly rational. She glanced over at him, “Perhaps you should have two cups.”

“I’m not drinking that crap; it tastes like dirt”

“Then have coffee, or Gatorade, or whiskey, or chocolate milk with a bendy straw. Whatever it takes for you to calm down and be quiet.”

“Oh, sorry I am disturbing you, princess?”

“You are disturbing all of us. Honestly, you’ve been projecting your utter boredom out to the rest of us for the past three hours. Its deafening and unreasonably distracting. I’m surprised Charlie can’t hear it over her podcast. So, find a way to calm yourself or go do something else.”

Charlie looked up wide eyed, not at all comfortable being brought into this argument.

Dean did not appreciate being dressed down by anyone and his mouth formed a hard line. “You are not kicking me out of my own library!”

Y/N regarded him over the top of her glasses, obviously not impressed. “Listen to yourself, you’re like a child throwing a tantrum over having to do a little homework.”

“A little homework? We’ve been at this for days! In case you’ve forgotten, we are on a deadline!”

“How could I forget? You complain about it every chance you get!” Y/N felt her temper begin to boil, “Of course you’d rather be out there killing monsters than in here reading about it. But just because you don’t like doing something, does not mean you are incapable of it.”

“Look at you, you love all this don’t you? You even dress for it, like you’re having tea with the damned Queen!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Designer jeans, cashmere sweaters. Would it kill you to wear something practical for once?”

“These are my work clothes, we’re working. Situationally appropriate wardrobe,” she arched a haughty brow at him, “I suppose I could take a page out of your book, buffalo check and burger juice couture.”

Dean chuckled humorlessly, “I’m a hunter sweetheart, that means I do the dirty work. I don’t have the luxury of sitting on my ass and drinking tea with my pinkie up. While you’re here trying not to break a nail, I’m out there saving people.”

With deliberate, measured movements, Y/N placed a marker in the book she was reading and closed it. She removed her glasses, placed her palms on the polished tabletop and stood. When lifted her chin and raised her gaze to meet his, there was a fury that nearly had him taking a step back. Her professional reputation may be unconventional, but the respect that came along with it was well-earned. She wasn’t about to be pushed around by Dean Winchester or anybody else. She knew her strengths, she knew her worth and frankly she’d had it with him trying to muscle his way around her.

Dean Winchester with his fierce frown and muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. He was used to being able to intimidate in a very physical way, the hardened hunter. Tough as fucking nails, hard as granite. An immovable force. Well, he could get bent!

“My work takes me to the most exclusive libraries and private antiquity collections in the world. Places even the most celebrated scholars are denied access to, I find it helpful to at least look like I belong there. You are a hunter with no monster, no direction, and no clue. You want to get back out there, you want to do your job? Sit down, shut up, and let me do mine. Because without me, you are just pissing in the wind.”

She sailed past him, towards the stairs leading to the entryway. Her suede flats were kicked off and replaced with bright aqua rain boots.

Dean knew she had a point, but with his temper riled he was hard pressed to admit it. “Where are you going?”

“I’m walking the dog,” she replied grabbing the leash and climbing the grated steps with Macey trotting up beside her. “Feel free to pick up where I left off. It’s a Christian text written in fourteenth century Italian. Good luck!”

When the sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the bunker, Dean rubbed the back of his neck and cursed, “Damn it.”

Sam rolled his eyes, this thing simmering under the surface between Y/N and his brother was getting out of control.

“Nicely done. Hope your translating skills are better than your manners.”

Dean slammed his body down into one of the hard, wooden chairs and angrily tore open a book, “Shut up.”

Two hours later

Dean checked his watch again and growled, “How long does it take to walk a dog?”

“I’m sure she’s just blowing off some steam, you got her pretty worked up,” Sam muttered, his head bent over a manuscript.

“I worked her up?! She started it.”

“Actually, you started it.”

“Still,” Dean stood and paced, tension visible in every movement. “She should be back by now. The sun’s starting to go down.”

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you call her?”

Dean reluctantly pulled his phone from his pocket. He really didn’t want to be the first one to initiate contact, “I’m not worried, I just don’t want to have to go looking for the little pain in the ass in the dark.”

He dialed her number and a moment later her phone sounded from under a stack of papers where she had been working. Dean dug out the slim phone with the shatterproof cover depicting the Eiffel tower. “Damn it.”

Charlie smirked when she recognized the tune, Copacabana. “Is that… Barry Manilow? That is not her ring tone!”

The brothers exchanged a look and Charlie laughed, “No. Come on… Do you really think the lady who told off lean, mean Dean would get lost walking her dog?”

“Mean?! I am not mean!”

Sam was already out of his chair, “I’ll go get her.”

“No, no, damn it. I’ll go.” Dean pulled on his coat and headed for the door. “I swear, we are duct taping this phone to her ass!”

It didn’t take the hunter long to pick up Y/N’s trail. Her wellie boot tracks went west along with massive Labrador paw prints. Probably headed off to the stream, she did like the view down that way. He heard her before he saw her. Calling to Macey and laughing.

“Come on, you dopey dog!”

Dean slowed his approach and hung back behind a trio of trees, observing out of pure curiosity. Down a shallow embankment that led to the water’s edge, stood Y/N. Her shiny rain boots were sunk in mud up to her ankles and her dog was splashing through the stream in pure delight. Finding her prize, Macey bounded back to her mistress with a massive branch in her mouth.

Y/N took the branch and tossed it back to be fetched. A fine mist of muddy stream water sprayed over her charcoal trousers as the dog set off after the stick. When the dog dove into the waters again, obviously delighted in the massive mess she was making, Y/N laughed out loud.

Dean had to admit, it was a charming scene. The low light of the sun setting spilled golden beams through the clearing and glittered off the surface of the water. Not so perfect now, Y/N was rumpled. Strands of her hair had worked free and floated around her face and her clothes were splattered with mud and water. Still, she looked nearly ethereal in the glow of the disappearing sun. Carefree and certainly happier than when she stormed out of the bunker.

He had started it. He knew it, but his frustration had gotten the better of him. He took it out on her, but damn it. She was driving him crazy! Why should he be the only one to suffer?

He sighed, now that his temper had cooled, he was reluctant to interrupt what was obviously a much-needed break for her. As fate would have it, he wouldn’t have to. Macey caught wind of his scent and made a beeline straight for him, all gangly legs and slobbery kisses.

Y/N turned in time to see Macey tackle Dean with enough force he stumbled backwards, barely keeping his balance. She frowned, “What are you doing here?”

Dean patted Macey’s head, calming her down. “Looking for you. You were gone so long I figured you must have headed for the boarder.”

“I’ve been gone like twenty minutes.”

“Try two hours.”

“Oh.” She frowned, having lost track of time. “Why didn’t you just call?”

He held up her phone with a raised eyebrow. She felt her pocket and confirmed its absence. “Oh.”

Dean strode towards her and tossed her the phone, “I don’t know why you even bother with the damned thing; you never have it on you. At this point I’m thinking we just tag you like grizzly bear and release you into the wild. At least then we’d have GPS.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shoving the phone into her back pocket. “I was always going to come back; it still gets dark early. And Macey needs a bath.”

“Sweetheart, you get lost going for milk. You and that dog would be wandering around for hours if I hadn’t shown up.”

“I’m sure this will come as a shock, but I have been traveling this world unescorted for years without incident. And while navigation isn’t my strongest suit, I am perfectly capable of finding my way home without you!”

Y/N turned on her heel, determined to leave the irritating Winchester as quickly as possible. She started to climb back up the embankment, but it was slick after the recent rain. Her boots slipped in the mud and landed square on her backside. Mud and water soaked through her pants and splattered everywhere.

Dean really laughed then. Doubled over and practically crying, while Y/N glowered up at him.

“Are you just going to stand there laughing at me or are you going to help me up?”

He held out a hand to her, when she took it, she pulled him down into the mud with her, taking him by surprise. He landed with a grunt, and she smirked.

Dean was fast, faster than she could anticipate. Before she even knew what happened, he turned the tables, and she was flat on her back. He had her quite efficiently pinned, yet somehow not crushed under his weight. His large hands clamped her wrists, holding them fast on either side of her head.

She tried to struggle against him, and he chuckled, his intense green eyes boring into hers, “Self-defense rule number one Sweetheart, never give up your leverage.”

He was so close, hips pressed against her pelvis, his face mere inches from hers. Y/N wasn’t nearly as unaffected as Dean thought. She was just as distracted as he was, acutely aware of his presence at all times. He radiated heat and power, coiled just under the surface. That warm, clean scent of his filled her senses. Like leather, whiskey, soap and something else undefinable yet unique to him. She swallowed and her heart sped up, hammering against her ribcage.

Y/N surprised them both by angling her head up and kissing him. It was passion and desire, red hot and built up over weeks of denial. He kissed her back, letting himself follow the waves of desire. His tongue swept inside her mouth, drawing a moan from the back of her throat. She seemed to turn to silk under his touch, soft, smooth, and pliant.

As he gave into the kiss, his grip loosened just enough. Dean was fast and so was she. Y/N snaked a leg around his and flipped him, so she was on top. She straddled his hips and held her forearm against his throat just enough to gain control but not constrict airflow. The look of shock on his face had her grinning in triumph.

She leaned in close and whispered into his ear, “Who says I gave up my leverage?”

When she nipped at his earlobe, Dean growled deep in his chest. She felt him harden against her and held tight as he sat up right, keeping her anchored to him in one swift move. Sitting in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, fingers gripping his shoulders. His calloused hands splayed her back and he pressed a hot kiss to the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat erratically under her skin. He was everywhere, flooding every sense. Fully in control, his expert mouth exploring and branding her skin. When his hand found her breast and his thumb stroked through her sweater, Y/N breathed his name.

Dean believed words to be over-rated when it came to intimacy. Anything he could say at this point would be inadequate in expressing how he felt, far better to show her. The life of a hunter was harsh, cold; filled with darkness, horror, and death. The woman in his arms sat in stark contrast. A physical representation of all that was light, and good and beautiful in the world. All he wanted was to lose himself in her and forget about the end of the world.

It had been a very long time since Dean let himself give in to his needs. It was the job, it can take over everything so quickly and so completely that before you know it, that’s all there is. There is no time for the joys of being human. Most days, he kept himself too busy to even notice. But then came Y/N, the living example of what he was missing. Seeing her every day made it harder and harder to just do the job. She awakened his senses, and he wanted more. That was why he bedeviled her all the time.

She’d compared him to a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground. And she was right. It was just plain fun!

But this… having her in his arms, pressed up against him. Tasting her, feeling her, getting lost in her; this was better. This was heaven on Earth.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Y/N pulled back, desperate to catch her breath. She put her hands on Dean’s chest and dropped her head, trying to clear it of the hazy desire that clouded everything.

To his credit, Dean stopped his advances, taking a moment himself. He ran a hand over her hair and touched his forehead to hers, “Yeah, yeah.”

She leaned into his touch. God! He felt so good, so right! Before she could stop herself, she brushed her lips over his. It was intoxicating. All encompassing. Addicting. The heat between them built again, hotter with each passing second, threatening to ignite. Her fingers raked through his hair, sending an almost electric current down Dean’s spine. He ravaged her again, tongue and teeth grazed her heated skin.

Suddenly, her control came back, and she pushed herself off of him. She stood on unsteady legs and stared at him. Her eyes, normally calm now stormy and clouded. Like thunderheads brewing over the sea.

Dean looked up at her and had to chuckle. She looked somewhere between turned on and terrified. “I gotta tell ya, I’m getting mixed signals here sweetheart.”

She braced one hand on her hip and ran the other over through her mud caked hair. Panic warred with yearning. “I know, I know. Damn it, I’m sorry! I just… I’m sorry.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, she turned away and started walking as quickly as she could. A task made difficult with her slick rain boots.

Dean was on his feet and right behind her, “Hey, Y/N! Slow down.”

Y/N ignored him and kept her stumbling pace. She had to get away from him, just had to think for a minute, breath for a minute. Get away before she did something she regretted.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the bunker,” she replied, stubbornly trudging through the mud, “We have work to do and I’m sure Sam and Charlie are wondering what happened to us.”

“The bunker is in the other direction.”

Y/N abruptly stopped and looked around; he was right. “Damn it.”

When she spun around to head back, Dean stopped her. His hands caught her shoulders and held her fast, “Hold it. Just hold it.”

“Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. One minute you’re all over me the next you’re running away.” Dean’s smile faded when he saw the tears gather in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He released her, worried that he’d crossed a line. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay? Nothing. Just talk to me, tell me what’s going though that head of yours.”

“We’ve got a job to do, people are in danger and relying on us. This is not the time for…for this.” She waved a hand at him, as if to even say the word sex was to invoke its power.

He nearly barked out a laugh. She shifted back into the prim and proper, by the book Y/N in an instant. It was her armor, her last defense.

“You’re the who left in the middle of research. Research we can’t complete without you. Turns out I don’t speak Italian. From any century.”

A small smile curved her lips, but her eyes turned sad, and Dean could hardly stand it. He could spar with her day and night. Actually, he kinda liked it. Her acidic wit and high-handed attitude were fun to bounce off. Most women caved to his charm, and those who didn’t, usually responded to his gruff side. Y/N remained immune to both.

And he liked it. He craved it.

But him being nice to her, had the opposite effect. And him kissing her had her in tears.

“This isn’t about the job; this is something else. I’ll fix it. Whatever I did, just tell me so I can fix it.”

She looked at him for a long moment before replying, “Why did you kiss me Dean?”

“Because when a gorgeous, irritating woman sits on top of you and kisses you stupid, you kiss her back.” He tilted his head to ask, “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” she blinked away the moisture in her eyes and looked off towards the horizon. “Because I want you and I am just so very tired of fighting it and fighting you. It was a mistake. God, I’m so sorry.”

He kept his voice even, despite the hope blooming in his chest. “You want me, I want you. Sweetheart, I’m not seeing the problem.”

“But that’s the thing… I shouldn’t want you! You’re all… hard and rough and you watch fake wrestling. You look down your nose at anything Men of Letters related, and you hate when I talk about Rome. You take every opportunity to tell me what a snob I am. Dean, we have nothing in common except the job we’re doing.”

Dean brought his hand up to slowly cup her face. His thumb gently ghosted over her cheekbone then down her jaw. His gaze focused on her lips, yet he made no move to kiss her again.

“I’m not always so rough.”

He touch was warm, yet she shivered and let out a shuddered breath when he brushed her hair back with his other hand.

“I hate you talking about Rome because you always go on and on about that hot dude.”

She frowned in thought, “Bastian? He’s a cardinal!”

“He’s a slick Italian. Just like all the Men of Letters douchebags, they’re just a bunch of book smart, smooth talkers. And that wrestling isn’t fake, it’s choreographed.”

He moved his hand to her shoulders, slowly rubbing his thumb over the curve, “Besides, we have something very important in common that you’ve overlooked. Chemistry.”

His mouth came close to hers then moved to hover near the sensitive spot just below her earlobe, but he didn’t touch. His hot breath fanned over her skin making her thoughts cloud over. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped.

“I think I’m exactly your type.”

. “It’s the close quarters,” her voice sounded husky, not at all like her normal, measured tones. “It’s because we’re penned in together. Stressed, with no way to release the tension. But if you were out in one of those little dive bars you like and the right… opportunity presented itself. You would forget I even existed.”

“And if some suave, ivy league dirtbag swept you off your feet, would you forget me? Just like that?”

“No. I wouldn’t. That’s why this is so dangerous. I don’t do casual, Dean. I’m not built that way.”

“There’s nothing casual about you. And there’s nothing casual about what’s happening between us. This is more than lust, Y/N.”

She wanted to believe him, and that was a problem. She was entirely biased. She wanted Dean’s words to be true, but she need proof.

“How do you know?”

“Your birthday? It’s June 17th. You love cake but hate frosting. You always put money in those little charity cans in gas stations, even if you have to go to the ATM to do it. You tell people your favorite song is Let It Be but it’s really Africa. You can roller skate backwards. You speak your mind even when it scares you and you have a soft spot for Cas.”

“Good angels are hard to find,” she muttered.

“You hold your breath every time we drive over a bridge and you sent a Christmas card to that old guy in Raleigh.”

Her head shot up and he nodded knowingly. “Ben Montgomery, from that double werewolf case.”

“I didn’t think you noticed that.”

“I notice everything about you. Always have. From the minute you came knocking on our front door, you’re all I see. For the first time in my life, I see more than myself. More than a life ending bloody. More than the job, even more than my brother. I see you and I want… more.”

This was Dean Winchester laid bare. Green eyes, bright and earnest against his mud caked skin. Who said vulnerable was weak? He’d spoken so simple and true that she felt like a coward in comparison. Her attraction sent her running for the hills. If this was love, it was the scariest thing she’d faced yet.

“I notice you too.” She shook her head with self-depreciating smile. “You’re ridiculous!”

“I think you mean adorable,” he winked.

Of course he did.

“And funny. And brave. And… so very kind. When I came to the bunker looking for answers, I knew they wouldn’t come easy. I was prepared for that challenge, but I never expected you. My whole life I’ve always known what to do. I know the steps to take but when it comes to you… I haven’t a clue. I am lost. And I am terrified.”

He took her hands and laced his fingers through hers. His skin was warm, especially compared to hers. A serious look creased his brow, making that little line appear between his eyebrows. She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth that worry away.

“I’m terrified too.”

“You?”

“Comes with the territory. It’s a risk, Y/N. I’m not saying it’s not, but everything good in this life is a risk. And this? Right here, you and me? This is good. You’ll never convince me it’s not. The way I see it, we’ve got two choices. Door number one; we keep the status quo. Go back to the bunker and take cheap shots at each other until Sammy and Charlie are ready to lock us in the dungeon.”

“I think they already are. Door number two?”

“We jump.” He grinned and swung his arms, making hers swing too. A reluctant, but inevitable smile bloomed on her face. “We tell the fear to fuck off and take a chance on ourselves for a change. Even heroes deserve a little happiness now and then.”

“Dean Winchester the optimist?”

“I spent the afternoon mud wrestling with you, things are looking up. So, what’d you say, Sweetheart?”

He made valid points, and she shared many of them. But that wasn’t what swayed her. Nor was it the obvious appeal of his hunter’s physique or his shameless flirting.

It was hope. For the first time, she saw it shinning in his eyes. It was beautiful. It belonged there always.

A jump, he’d said. A leap of faith. Maybe she could do it… if they jumped together.

She wrapped her arms up around Dean’s neck, determined to meet his honesty with boldness.

“Geronimo.”

Kisses between them always followed a fight. Battles of strong words and unbending wills. Building to a climax that could just as easily come to blows. Overflowing with passion and misplaced emotions. Exciting yes, but easy to dismiss as something else when fear reared its ugly head.

In many ways, this was a true first kiss. Powered by something more substantial than desire. It was born of hope and tasted like joy. If such a kiss could exist in the dark lives of hunters, then maybe happiness was achievable. And that was a risk worth taking.

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