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daosies · 3 days

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l(over)

when someone else flirts with you in front of them.

heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader

warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊

notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭

frankly, heizou is amused.

"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"

you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?

"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.

"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.

"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.

heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.

"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.

when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.

"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"

your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.

heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"

"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.

so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.

"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.

(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)

(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)

"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"

"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.

"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."

kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"

"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."

"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."

that gives heizou an idea.

"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.

"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).

"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"

you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.

"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"

"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"

"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.

"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"

"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"

"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"

"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.

"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"

his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.

"d-doushin shikanoin?!"

"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"

kadenokouji faints.

"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."

"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."

"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.

he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.

unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.

"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.

"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.

you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.

"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."

"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.

briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.

(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)

"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.

wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.

"whatever."

his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.

you are bound to him.

and then he gives in.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."

oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!

"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.

"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"

a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.

i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.

you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.

"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.

wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.

he is bound to you.

a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.

you are in the eye of the hurricane.

the eye of the beholder. it melts.

neuvillette is flabbergasted.

back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.

this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.

"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."

the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.

"sorry, i'm taken."

"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.

"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.

"partners in work?"

"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.

the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.

"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.

"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."

"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.

"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.

neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.

"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.

"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."

the stranger rolls his eyes.

"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."

neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"

"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.

clouds begin to form.

"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."

he looks at you, and the sun emerges.

"you're right. thank you, [name]."

a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.

it glows.

"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"

he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.

"yes," he vows, "i do."

his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin #heizou x reader #heizou x you #shikanoin heizou #genshin heizou #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin

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rafescurtainbangz · 2 days

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Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

Tags: @voyeurmunson @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180 @h34rtsformilli @joannamuns9n @waywardsoul113 @marahgubler @akashababy @dckweed @humanvampire13 @drewstarkeyslut @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @imbabycowboy @rafesgiirl @obxbabies @cutielando @rafedrewandjjs @rafesthroatbaby @999ares9996 @oxpogues4lifexo @dilfswife @Dilfswife @chiaraanatra @ietss @drewswifeeee @theoraekenslover @niyahnotnia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafecore #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron headcanons #frat!rafe smut #frat rafe #frat rafe cameron #rafe cameron hc #rafe headcanons #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #boyfriend rafe cameron #soft rafe cameron

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voyeurmunson · 20 hours

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18+ hoes

Eddie’s calloused fingers dig into your hips, pressing you hard into the mattress as you squirm beneath him. “Eddie please.. I can’t.” you whimper pathetically, the sound only making him chuckle into your warmth.

“Gonna give me one more, sweetheart.” he mumbles drunkenly before his long tongue is lapping at your soaked cunt once again.

“I- Eddie, I can’t.” you squeal as tears flood your cheeks, your clit puffy and red from his constant torture.

“Wasn’t a request, Princess. Now give me one more.” he smirks up at you just as he shoves three thick fingers inside your pussy, immediately curling them right into your sweet spot.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” the word falls from your lips again and again as Eddie brings you right to the edge of your sixth orgasm.

“P-please. Eddie please.” you whine, your heels dig into the mattress as you try to push your body away from him begging for an ounce of relief. It does nothing but make him fuck his fingers into you faster. The loud squelching of your drenched pussy heard above all else.

“That’s not your safe word, baby.” Eddie winks up at you before burying his face once again, his lips wrapping around your sensitive clit, tugging it into his mouth relentlessly. Your entire body feels like it’s floating, every touch from him making it that much harder to breathe.

You can taste your safe word on your lips, your body completely overwhelmed, your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, your cries coming out hoarse as he continues destroying you. But you keep quiet. Because you want it. You need it.

You let go one more time, allowing yourself to give into him entirely. You feel your pussy walls clenching down hard around his ringed fingers as your head falls back into the soft sheets. Stars flood your vision as your hips jerk against his hold on you.

Eddie pops off your clit, his eyes now locked on your beautiful face as your mouth drops open with a silent scream. “Fuck, there it is. Let it all go baby. Such a good slut for me. Soak my fuckin’ hand.”

You can barely hear his words of praise as your highest high hits you. You can feel the warmth as your cum runs down to your ass, your thighs soaked as well.

Eddie gives you a second for your body to relax before he slowly removes his fingers, bringing them straight to your lips, making you suck them clean. He leans down licking a long stripe against your pussy, your hand automatically reaching out, striking him hard across the cheek. Your eyes widen as a dark smile forms on his pretty lips.

“Oh, baby. Now you’re in for it.”

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson blurb #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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coldblooded-angel · 2 days

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The love triangle WORKS because:

Patrick has Art as soulmates do, seeing and understanding each other in a way no one else can. In silent stares and sly smirks and shared beds and a complete mastery one the other’s psyche.

Patrick loves Tashi in the way being full only comes after hunger. Oil fueling fire, burning bright before burning everything around them. Feeling love for the first time and never knowing when its too much or not enough.

Art needs Patrick in the same way you have a side of the bed you always sleep on, a brand of detergent you always buy. Stability in the unpredictable, how Patrick knows when to push and when to pull. How he has the spare key to the lock box where Art hides his desires.

Art loves Tashi like a dog needs a master. Freedom in being directed and told, the security you get from being a devoted follower to a higher being.

(And once Tashi is dragged into their orbit like a stray asteroid taken off its course)

Tashi loves Art in the same way you hate all your wasted potential. An alternative future, a time machine that could take you to where your body has not betrayed you. In him and through him she’s given every path: as a wife, a mother, a coach, a puppet master but never a player.

Tashi wants Patrick in the way smokers ignores labels on cigarette boxes. The beauty of self-destruction and passion she’s lost. Constantly chasing a high that hurts so good you’d risk everything to have it again.

Tashi hates and loves them both in equal measure. Resenting them for taking the one thing she loved away from her and forcing her to live her own dreams through two diverging paths. Loving them enough to push them back together where they belong.

And yeah, because the third in their love triangle was always tennis🙄

#it is and it isn’t about tennis #i am so fucking gone for this movie #i will literally never shut up about this #EVERYONE NEEDS TO SEE IT !!#also pls be nice these are just my thoughts and if you disagree..too bad #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan

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latenightdaydreams · 2 days

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Haii!

How do we feel about a smut with pornstar reader & pornstar Konig? Like- their comments in their vids/twts/etc. always saying to collab w/ eachother and after awhile, they finally do 👀

-🖤

(Also sorry if I already sent this- I forgot if I did😭)

You didn't! I love the idea of being shipped with Pornstar!König. The Austrian with a monster cock🤤

Pornstar!König x Pornstar!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

3.1k word count

König is famous in the adult film world. During lock down he downloaded Only Fans and ended up making his own account. His striking blue eyes, hidden face mystery, and 6’10 280 lb frame of solid muscles weren’t the only reasons he became so famous; he also has a 10-inch cock the size of most women’s forearms.

You, on the other hand, are a cam girl turned OF girl. You are known by your fan base never being scared of a challenge. You use toys that make people's jaws drop. Your body being strikingly stunning along with a beautiful face and kinky appetite for sex, you blew up quickly on the platform.

Because of the material you make, your fans instantly made you aware of another content creator, König. After about the 100th comment, you decide to go on your X account and check out his page. Instantly you notice the mask covering his face and his blue eyes. His bio gives his height and weight, your jaw drops. You continue to scroll and see a photo he’s recently posted. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt. His body is stunning, but your eyes drop to the outline of his erection in his pants, his dick literally hanging down his leg. You smirk now, understanding why the fans think you two should film together. You go ahead and give him a follow.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König has also seen the comments. After the first one he instantly looked you up. His eyes shot open when he saw the photo of toys on your profile. Scrolling down a few posts he sees you, and wow. You’re wearing a pink lace thong with your breast fully exposed. You have a sweet smile on your face and you’re standing in a field of wildflowers. You look ethereal. He instantly took notice of you, but contrary to his online persona, he is very socially awkward. He has no idea how to reach out to you, or any girl; that’s why he only posts solo. Then while he is scrolling looking at his feed, he gets a notification. You just followed him.

He quickly sits up and smiles. He clicks your profile and begins to look at all the photos you’ve posted again. His heart rate is picking up, he doesn’t know if he should message you or wait. That’s when your phone chimed and he got the notification that you messaged him.

> “Hey! I’m sure you know of me from your comments 😂, but I’m y/n!”

He reads your message probably ten times before getting the courage to respond to you.

> “Hey, ja, I know you. It’s nice to finally talk.”

He hits send quickly and waits for you to respond. He can feel his heart rate picking up. He hopes that you’re messaging him to make content together. He can feel his excitement rising as his leg bounces waiting for your next message.

You sit feeling nervous yourself as you look down at your phone. He responded so quickly it didn’t give you time to think of a smooth way to ask about a collab. You’ve only ever filmed solo or with women, never a man.

> “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting together? I see you mostly do solo, so please feel no pressure. I just figured the fans would love it.”

König stands and punches the air like his favorite sports team had just won the big game. Now he just has to act smoothly and not ruin this.

> “I’d love to.”

Both of you do a little celebration dance, feeling excited about the possibility of filming together. You both continue to message back and forth and work out how you’d both meet on account of him being based in Austria, but you both work something out.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

One week later you post on your social media accounts a photo of a plane at the airport. The comments explode with assumptions and more tagging of König. During the next few hours, you continue to post your travels while König doesn’t post at all.

That is until he posts a photo of a small feminine hand in his and then you post a bathroom mirror selfie with a man’s large arm around your waist. You sit with König in your Airbnb on the living room sofa, both giggling as people begin to realize the collab is about to happen.

König paid for you to fly to him, picked you up at the airport, and paid for your Airbnb. You knew König was 6’10, but seeing him in person actually blew you away. Plus, he is so sweet. In person, his face remains covered by the mask. You have questions, but you leave it alone.

Your first day together you spend the day going over health, boundaries, safe words, and any questions you might have for each other. Once everything is settled, you both plan to film the next day to allow you to get some rest.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König wakes up early and works out the day of filming. He eats a light breakfast and takes a long shower to help with his nerves. He is excited to have sex with a woman that he knows is very capable of taking someone his size instead of having only the tip of his cock in someone. Getting dressed in sweats and a black shirt, he makes his way to you.

You are currently sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror to do your makeup. You just do a light natural look for today. You’re wearing a black silk robe over your nude body with two sets of lingerie set out, waiting to get König’s opinion.

A knock at the door, you jump up and rush to the front door. Smiling, you let König inside and motion for him to follow you to the main bedroom.

“Okay, so I have two options for today and I wanted your input.”

He follows you to see a large king size bed with white lush looking comforters and he feels his nerves spike again. He sees one black lingerie set and then a light pink one that looks like the one from the first photo he ever saw of you.

“Pink, it will look great with your skin tone.” König says looking at you with a soft smile behind his mask.

You grab pink and go to the connected bathroom to get dressed.

König walks around the room and sets up the ring lights and cameras for different angles. He stands looking around and waiting for you. Slowly he takes his shoes off when the bathroom door opens and he gets to see you. He’s seen you naked online, but in person you looked even more perfect. He stands and just looks at you for a while before speaking.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” you can’t help but to find his Austrian accent attractive. “Thanks for setting up too.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” König reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.

Your eyes go over his body and smirk at how attractive he looks. You notice his erection forming as you walk to the bed.

“Do you want to film everything? Like role play and all?” You ask in a soft voice, the tension in the air heavy as you’re both ready now.

“Uh, let's film it all. I’d rather have more to edit from.” And also, because he’d want to watch these moments with you later.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

König lifts his mask slightly, the first time his audience will be seeing his sharp jawline and his thin soft lips. His lips meet yours in a tender first kiss as his hands begin to roam over your body. His hand squeezes your breast gently as your lips part and your tongues caress each other’s.

You move your hand down his chest, feeling the small amount of chest hair the covers his chest. His muscles twitch lightly at your touch. His penis now fully erect in his pants as he tastes your lips and feels the touch of your soft skin.

He moves his hands behind your back and begins to unhook your bra. Slipping the straps off your shoulders slowly before pulling it away from your body. He breaks the kiss and gently leans you back on the bed. His lips kiss all over your breasts until he finds one of your nipples. He licks in slow circles around it before closing his lips and sucking lightly. Opening his mouth again he begins to flick his tongue.

You let out a soft moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head, pressing him against you, the fabric of his mask soft. His other hand goes down to your thighs and begins to gently move up them, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs.

He pulls away from your breasts and whispers to you, “Is it okay if I touch?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him asking for consent.

His hand grabs your leg and moves it to where the camera can see everything, He moves the thin fabric of your thong aside and begins to rub his thick fingers between your folds. You’re already wet when he touches you and that excites him knowing you’re so turned on. He moves his lips back to yours as he gently rubs your clit. Small moans leaving your lips, muffled into his. He eventually slips one finger down and pushes it gently into you. He feels the texture of your walls and feels how tight you are. He can only think about shoving himself deep inside of you, but he wants you to get off first.

He moves his kisses from your lips back down to your breast before kissing down your stomach. He moves your leg a little more as he rests his head on your thigh, he kisses your clit before flicking his tongue. Your legs jerk and you sit up to look down at him eating you out. He can’t get over how good you smell and taste. He is surprised you aren’t selling your panties; men would pay big money for this.

“Oh, fuck König,” you moan caressing the side of his face.

König slips in another finger as picks up his pace, as he continues to lick your clit. Hearing you moan his name means that he is on the right path to get you to orgasm for him. Your hand grasps the fabric of his mask, making him smirk before he switches to begin just sucking your clit. Your legs tremble as you drop your head back and lay back down. The sound of your wet cunt gets louder as you cum on his fingers. He keeps going for a while before pulling back.

You lie there panting before you giggle and sit up, “Your tongue is amazing.”

He chuckles and goes in to kiss you, making you taste your sweet pussy on your own lips. You move your hands to his chest before moving down to his cock, pulling back you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart rate began to pick up. The videos of you deep throating your toys comes into his mind and he gets excited. Lifting his ass, König helps you pull his sweats off of him, boxers as well.

Seeing his cock spring free makes you smile; his cock is as big as some of your toys. König leans back to support himself on his elbows to allow you room but he still wants to watch.

Grasping his dick at the base, you stroke it lightly as you lick the back of his tip. König’s breathing heavy as his blue eyes watch with anticipation. You move your hand and lick from the base all the way up his shaft, back and forth and a few times before finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You begin to suck on the tip and move your head in a fast motion making König moan out. He reaches down and moves some of your hair out of your face.

“Ah, ja, just like that.” His voice shakes as you keep going.

Finally, you lower your head down the length of his shaft. Your full lips wrapping tightly around him as you take his ten inches inch by inch down your throat. König watches in amazement as he has never had a woman be able to take more than half his cock into their throat. He takes a sharp breath before letting a small moan out.

You feel a bit of pride being able to take someone like him, to make him moan like that. You look up at his eyes as you continue to suck his cock.

“Is this okay?” König asks as his hand moves to the back of your head.

“Mmhhmm,” you respond without stopping.

His hand gently guides you motion as the other one is behind him supporting himself. He lets himself enjoy the pleasure of your skills. Gently lifting your face with one hand he brings your lips to his, lifting his mask and kissing you. He wants you fully now.

Pushing your body back without breaking the kiss, his hands caress your body. You both agreed on no condom but to us the pull out method and since both of you are clean. Slowly pulling away from your soft lips he looks down at you and removes your thong, tossing it to the side.

“Are you ready, Schatz?”

“I am.”

“Gut.”

Grabbing you by your hips he drags you forward. He is such a massive man that he can easily move you. You giggle as he does and he responds with a chuckle of his own.

“Your voice is so sweet.” He tells you as he grasps your thigh as pulls one leg back for the camera view again. He rubs himself back and forth over your folds before he begins to push himself into you. His eyes watch your face to watch for pain or discomfort, yet he sees nothing but bliss.

König pushes himself as far in as your tight cunt will take at first. You moan out, grabbing his arm and the bed sheets. Your sweet pussy welcomes him with a warm wet hug and he pushes in more, a moan leaving his lips as you take him.

“You’re so tight, Schatz.” König speaks with a voice dripping with lust. His hips begin to thrust harder into you, letting his desire take over.

Your lips hug his fat cock as he pumps it into you leaving your creamy cum on his cock. He pulls out and stands to grab one of the cameras. He comes back and points it to your pussy as he slides his cock back into you, recording the way your tight cunt can easily stretch for him.

“Look at that beautiful pussy, you truly take cock so well. So fucking tight.” He picked up his pace, holding the camera in place as you reached down and put your own leg back. Your fingers digging into your own flesh as you moan out his name.

“Please König, fuck me.” You look into his eyes begging for him to get you off again.

König returns the gaze as he fucks you harder. The phone picking up the sounds your pussy is making and both of your moans.

“That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”

Your eyes flutter back as your body tenses, your cunt tightening around his cock. He puts the phone down and fucks you through your orgasm letting the other cameras pick it up. His body leaning into yours as your hands move to his back and begin to drag your nails along his pale skin.

“Good girl,” he whispers to you as he lifts his mask slightly to kiss you all over your neck and face. His hands grasp your body tightly as he continues to thrust into you. His balls begin to tighten and he feels the temptation of just cumming deep inside of you, but he can’t.

Quickly König pulls out and grabs the phone again to record. “Come here,” he grabs your hand to pull you up and sits at the edge of the bed. He points the camera down at you as you scoot closer to his cock.

Moving your pillowy lips up and down his cock, sucking as you do. You begin to lick your own wet from his cock.

“Suck it Liebling,” his voice breathy.

You move your mouth to wrap around his cock again. König grabs your hair in his hand to hold your head steady as he begins to buck his hops forward, face fucking you gently. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you. He moves his 10-inch cock deeper and deeper as he fucks faster. Your eyes begin to water as you close your eyes.

“Open, look at me. Please.” König moans.

Once your eyes open and you look back up at him, he presses your head all the way down. His cock outline is visible in your throat. You gargle on his cock before he pulls it out and begins to jerk off quickly. You open your mouth and hold your breast up waiting for his load.

He cums on you, letting out loud grunts of pleasure as he does. His milky white seed shoots some on your breast, your mouth, but most on your face. He smiles at how beautiful you look covered in him. You play with it a little for the camera before he stops recording.

You both relax on the bed and pant, relaxing. König looks over to you and gestures for you to come snuggle with him. The other two cameras picked up the sweet moment.

◅ ◃ ▹ ▻

The video blows up on both of your pages. Fans ecstatic to see you get dominated by König’s monster cock finally. The chemistry you both had radiating through the camera adding to the passion. People requesting more and starting to ship the two of you.

You have 5 more days in Austria and König is excited to spend those few days with you. He’s at home, late at night, watching the clips of him snuggling you after sex. A small smile on his face as he watches it over and over. He didn’t want to, but he caught feelings. He wonders if you feel the same.

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #konig x you #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #smut #konig call of duty #cod smut

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johnwickb1tsch · 21 hours

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The Bastard’s Mistress ~ A Don John x Servant!Fem!Reader Fic

So I caught the don John brain rot this weekend…very contagious, 10/10 recommend. This might be @scarlettspectra ’s fault, from all her beautiful gifs she’s been posting!😆 I didn’t go full Shakespearean here but had some fun with the syntax. I apologize in advance. Reader is properly deferential for the time, but she’s got a little spunk.😬

Warnings: the line between dubcon and noncon here is VERRRY thin. I don’t even know. So if that bothers you do NOT read this! What else. Period correct misogyny and degradation. Corruption. I’m so bad at itemizing these things. Please take care. If u have squiks i probs wouldn’t read this…

You are a chambermaid in His Excellency don Alejandro’s hacienda. It gives you a certain distance from things, as you come and go, doing your best to keep the country house clean and stay out of sight. But don Alejandro’s bastard, the fire-eyed boy with such a burning contempt for the world, has always seen you.

When you were young children, don John would play with you all, the offspring of the servants who were too young to work. Not because he enjoyed your company, but because he delighted in ordering you all about. Luckily in those days he ignored you as often as he tormented you.

Then there was a time, when the two of you hovered on the precipice between childhood and adult responsibilities, that you had almost been friends. Or at least, not enemies. He, the bitter outsider with the privileges of a full blooded son, but none of the standing. You, unmoored in your fatherlessness, the fever having taken your sire when you were just a babe.

Don John goaded you into shirking your chores one day to go play in the hills. He’d only taunted you a little, as you played your silly games, which mostly consisted of him manipulating you, ordering you to do this and that, always testing just how far he could go before being met with rebellion. It was still better than working your hands raw in the laundry. “We should run away,” he’d said in that devil-may-care way brash young boys have, so sure the world is destined to fold for them. You, however, had begged to go home, for all it won you. Upon returning your mother absolutely tanned your backside, and you never associated with Don John in such a familiar way again.

You saw him around the grounds, of course, as you scurried from one backbreaking chore to the next, and as he went through the motions of learning how to become a gentleman. Amidst his riding lessons he would wink at you from astride his fine black horse, but the cruel turn of his mouth never failed to halt you in returning it, even if your heart quickened in your chest.

That did not mean you didn’t think of him later though, on your lumpy cot of straw, as urges began to awaken in your body that was well on its way to becoming a woman’s. You saw his face at night, so achingly handsome you could hardly contain your longing. It felt like madness, and so you shoved it down in the deepest dungeon of your heart, as far as it could go.

It was not helpful, or good, the times when young don John passed you in the halls, and you felt that he would like to just eat you up. He would tug at your apron strings with a smirk before striding on to whatever lark he plotted for the day. The unholy feelings just a look from that man called up in you had you reaching for your rosary–and late at night, when all others lay asleep, between your legs.

You’d felt a certain relief when he went off to war with don Pedro. Even though your heart ached for the inevitable change, a part of you hoped he would never return.

As it turns out, your hopes were not to be realized. He has returned to his father’s country house, on the tails of some scandal in Messina. His temper is even fouler than you remember. His scowl, crueler. He has met with some disappointment, out in the world. You hope he will not take it out on you blameless servants.

Perhaps that is too much to ask of the upper caste.

You feel his eyes upon you again, as in the old days, but different. There is a weight in his gaze that makes you uncomfortable in your own skin, as though it no longer fits upon your own bones. It makes you ache for something no pious unmarried girl should yearn for, something you cannot name, only feel in the darkest hours of night when you lay awake on your mattress of straw, your sinful fingers exploring the bud of flesh between your legs.

You decide don John carries the flames of Hell in his burning dark eyes.

You dream of him, as though he has possessed your flesh in your sleeping hours.

He corners you one day, as you are changing the linens in one of the many airy rooms of the hacienda. You eye him warily, as he shuts the door, his large and forbidding form blocking your exit. His dark eyes upon you are black as night.

“What a flower you have blossomed into, y/n,” he muses, stepping slowly into the room with the measured calculation of a predator stalking prey. “No longer the knees and elbows girl I remember.”

“You…have also changed, my lord,” you offer cautiously. No longer the awkward, rail thin youth, his shoulders have the breadth of a man who rides a charger and wields a sword. You have tried not to notice.

“How so?” he fishes, canting his head with a smirk.

Your face feels as though you have caught on fire. “You are…taller,” you offer, winning a cruel little chuckle.

“Oh? I do like the sound of that. What else?” Another step closer, his booted heel clicking on the floor, and you are veritably boxed in between the walls and the oversized bed.

“My lord?” you stall, mortified.

“Did you miss me, y/n?”

This question also takes you aback, and perhaps that is why you answer honestly.

“Sometimes.”

“Well. That is more than any of my relations here will bother to claim,” he answers bitterly. In that moment you still see a boy just striving, yearning for his father’s recognition. Perhaps it was ridiculous, but you always felt bad for him, in a way.

“Did you hear the happy news? Don Pedro has taken a wife, and opts to dwell in Messina,” snarls don John with a mocking brightness.

“How…fortunate for him.”

The man before you makes a sound that suggests he barely restrained himself from spitting upon the floor in his half brother’s name.

“Indeed.” He takes one more step, and you know you are done for, your heart in your chest. There will be no escaping now. “What of you, fair y/n? Assumed the yoke of marriage yet?” The disdain in his words hangs bitter in the air.

You are tempted to lie, but know no good should come of it. “No, my lord,” you answer, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“How fortunate for you.”

Perhaps in your fear, you forget yourself. “John, please–”

He moves to strike, and you are but a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, quick but not quick enough to evade him. His arm is like a band of iron about your waist, lifting you off the floor in his fury. He slams you down–albeit upon the feather mattress–a luxury you’ve never experienced for yourself, your back accustomed to scratchy tick straw.

“Insouciant wench! How familiar you are, to address me so.” He sounds so cruelly delighted by it, wedging his lean body like a knife between your legs, his narrow hips locked against yours. When you attempt to sit up he easily pins you down, his large hand spanning two of your wrists with ease, his other pressed lightly over your throat. You can hardly hear, hardly think, over the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He can surely feel it in your pulse, fluttering against his fingers. You are filled with fear–and the sharp ache of desire, God save you.

“Please, my lord…”

He makes a low sound in his throat, his lips tracing your jaw. “Please what, pretty maid? I have a mind to make a meal of you.”

“Please…don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? That is up to you, my dear. I will have you. Sweetly, or by force, tis your choice.” Your heart lodges in your throat. Your mother warned you about this, time and again. Men are dogs and gentlemen the worst of them. Never let them catch you alone.

And in your darkest heart of hearts, you know that a part of you hoped don John might do just that.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, surprisingly gently for such a villain, but you attempt to turn away. It only wins his annoyance, his large hand turning your face back to him. Before he can press his mouth to yours you say, “You merely seek to make sport of me in your boredom here. It is not right.”

He laughs at that. “Sport, I shall make,” he muses, hiking your skirts above your thighs. “Let us test the truth of your righteous outrage?” Boldly his fingers climb the trail of your leg, to the apex where he finds the damning evidence of your treacherous loins. “My lovely girl, so wet for such a reluctant quarry.” His long fingers dip inside your weeping center, and the sound you make does not resemble protest at all. He smirks down at you like the very devil. “And a virgin my little rabbit is not.”

Javi the stableboy took care of that for you, in a quick and disappointing tumble in the hay. His touch…had felt nothing like this, if truth you tell.

Ashamed, and burning, you look away. Tears trail out of your eyes, and a part of you wishes it shall just be over soon. He frowns at the shining tracks of water upon your cheeks, a menacing scowl that makes your eyes screw shut tight.

“Do not seek to engage my sympathy or my better nature, for you know I have none,” he growls above the dip of your throat, his lips searing as a brand upon your chest.

“That wasn’t always true,” you dare, winning naught but a growl from this ravenous beast of a man above you.

“You are the only one who thinks so.” For the barest moment you see a flash of vulnerability in his eyes–the ghost of the memory of the boy he once was, there and gone like ripples in a pool. It is as though this second of softness spurs him on in his deed, as though he must shove it aside to enjoy his sordid pleasure.

Clever fingers tear at the laces of your stays; you are freed to breathe, but you are bared to his hungry gaze as he tugs down your shift for his delectation. “Such lovely fruits, just ripe for picking,” he muses, cupping your breast in his hand, suckling upon a nipple.

You never knew how such a thing could make your insides clench, your sinning cunt tightening in its aching emptiness. Your hips move against his of their own accord, your legs wrapping about him as you mindlessly seek some relief from this madness. He withdraws with a dramatic pop, laughing at your body’s treachery.

“You are a fiend.”

“Pray, tell me,” he taunts you.

“I hate you.”

“Is that any way to speak to your master?”

He is enjoying this far too much.

“You forget your place, don John, as ever.”

That is when he slaps you. Not hard, nay, your own mother has hit you harder, but it certainly gets your attention. “I will rule here someday, y/n. Have a care with that tongue. I can think of better uses for it.” His piercing eyes fix upon your lips, a moment before he falls upon you, kissing you as though he means to devour you. You tense, thinking to bite him for being so cruel, so conniving, for just using you for no other reason other than he can.

He plays a very dirty trick on you, though.

That dexterous hand slips under your skirts again, swiping up your slick before circling that small nub of flesh that causes you such great tumult and shame. You moan into his mouth, and you feel him smile wickedly against you.

This man is the very devil, you are sure of it.

“Now who is ready to forget?” he taunts you, rubbing you in slow circles that drive you mad, make you writhe for the unbearable tightness coiling between your legs.

You can only manage a small cry, words escaping you. You’ve never felt anything like this, not at your own hands, and certainly not with Javi the stableboy.

“Please,” is all you can manage, and you’re not even entirely sure you know what you’re begging for.

“I like to hear you beg so sweetly.” He reaches to free himself from his breeches, his swollen tip hovering at your entrance. “So beg, wench, what favour is it you ask of me?”

You should entreat him to leave you be–you should beg for his mercy. But the delicious weight of him atop you, this dastardly man whose touch is such sweet sin–you are not sure you wish for him to leave you be. Your whole life has been such a march of drudgery. Even just the possibility of feeling something that is not pain or exhaustion makes you willfully forget every lesson your mother ever taught you, every fiery sermon the Padre ever flung down from his pulpit. Tis easy to renounce the Devil, until temptation has you in its clutches.

“I know not what to ask for,” you answer cautiously, and that at least is true.

Don John smirks down at you, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes.

“Ask for my cock, you stupid girl, and if your quim pleases me perhaps I may be moved to share in the spoils.”

“Yes.” You strain your hips towards him, craving that satisfying, stretching burn of a man’s first thrust. That, atleast, you know something about.

“Yes, what?” he taunts you, delighting in your torment as he holds himself just out of reach.

“Yes, my lord,” you whimper, hating yourself as much as him in that moment. “May I have your cock?”

His smile widens in his devilish delight, almost showing teeth. “Remember that you asked for it.” But he taunts you no further, his thick head penetrating your weeping hole, the fullness of him stealing the very breath from your lungs. He groans once fully inside you, burying his face in your neck.

“I’ve always known you would have the sweetest little cunt in the sierra,” he growls against your skin, and he begins to thrust.

If there is one thing you have always known about don John, it is that he loves to hear himself talk.

“You are mine, little maid,” he goes on, filling you so deeply you fear he must be in your belly. You are not sure you like it, and you only whimper in answer, straining for a better angle against him, seeking that certain friction that made you see stars.

“Say it,” he demands, understanding what you seek very well. You whine, turning your eyes to the ceiling. You know you are a mere peasant, and you know you do not own anything, much less yourself. Yet some small defiance rises in you, for his demanding tone.

“Perhaps I shall, if you make it so.”

You wait for him to strike you again, but to your surprise he smirks with a sort of dark delight, only turning your gaze back to his with a rough hand upon your jaw. “There is the saucy wench I remember of our youth. Do you remember how you used to defy me?”

You don’t very much, recalling that he usually always emerged the master and victor of your games.

“No, my lord.”

“You do not recall striking me with a stick, in defense of a hapless bird?”

You blink, finding it rather unfair of this man to expect you to command the capacity to think in this situation. But then you do recall. You had all been small children. The boys sought amusement in throwing rocks at an injured sparrow. You had taken exception to it.

Don John had sworn he would tell his father and have you executed.

You’d cried for days, but the sword never fell.

You’d nearly forgotten all about it, perhaps willfully burying the memory out of shame and fear. Mostly fear.

The bastard had deserved it.

He never forgot a slight, it seems.

“I always told myself I would have my revenge for that,” he tells you with a smirk, pressing his thumb into your mouth. You try to shrink away, but he has you like a fish on a hook. “Suck,” he commands you. You do not understand why those jetty black eyes boring into yours, paired with that unyielding tone, makes your needy cunt clench around him, only that it is extremely satisfying to see his eyes flutter closed, even if just for a moment.

You do as you’re told.

He uses your own saliva against you, reaching between your legs with that spit-wet thumb to touch you again.

You forget everything else, but the carnal heaven that is his clever fingers with his manhood inside you. The sounds the two of you make are barely human, as you strain and writhe against each other, chasing your release from this hell. Those full lips made for sin devour you–his mouth on your breasts makes you see God, a searing pleasure crashing through you in a spine-cracking rush. How can something that feels so wonderful be so forbidden? Only then does don John truly let himself go, the sound of flesh striking flesh filling the room as he takes you with all his pent up fury. It is not long before he roars his release, filling you with ropes of his hot seed, his powerful body trembling in its tangle of limbs with yours.

For just a moment you wished would last, his fingers lace with yours rather than pin you, his head heavy on your chest as he catches his breath. Yet when he lifts his gaze to you, his eyes gleam with their usual malevolence.

“You will come to my chambers tonight,” he orders you. “For I am not finished with you yet by half.”

When your mouth opens–indeed to give protest–he silences you with a hard but heart-melting kiss, his long fingers tangled unforgivingly in your now loosened hair.

“Do as I say, servant girl. Though if you don’t, I may enjoy making you.” That proud mouth ticks as he seems to imagine it, that fire igniting once more in his mesmerizing eyes. The thought simultaneously makes your blood run cold–and a thrill of desire run raucous down your spine.

This man is the very devil. You are as sure of it now, as you know when the household goes to sleep, you will find your way back to his merciless embrace.

#don john #much ado about nothing #don john x reader #don john keanu reeves #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic

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xileonaaaa · 3 days

Text

Thinking of gojo!xchubby reader

*Gojo who isn’t an overly rude prick.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿˚₊

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Gojo!Satoru who used to pick fun at you for never being able to get your work uniform to fit right.

Gojo!Satoru who always made it a point to tease you about your random habits that he found weird or odd, but never really took anything too far, and when he did, he’d immediately apologize.

Gojo!Satoru who used jokes as his way of complimenting/flirting with you.

Gojo!Satoru who would stop himself whenever he felt like he was being too mean, often reminding himself of the time back in high school when he caused you to run out of the school dance crying because he’d said you looked like a clown with makeup on.

Gojo!Satoru who would often barge into your classroom with bags and bags of sweet snacks that he’d bought from the convenience store in town.

Gojo!Satoru who eyes you with a look of pure disgust when you tell him that “you’re trying to watch your weight” or that “you’re on a diet”.

Gojo!Satoru who’d just stands there frozen in shock at what you’d just said about yourself. Did you not see what he saw??? Who gives a rats ass about something as trivial as your weight? It’s not life threatening so who cares? He sure doesn’t.

Gojo!Satoru who doesn’t really wear his blindfold around you, because he loves to see your facial expressions, and just you in general. Only time he would wear it, is just when he is beyond exhausted, and is trying his best to preserve his energy.

Gojo!Satoru who thinks that you look downright beautiful the way you are, and finds himself at a loss when he realizes that you don’t see what he sees. The way your body is smaller than his and plump (in all the right places) but still strong and compact, genuinely has his mouth watering at times.

Gojo!Satoru who pulls up a chair to sit on the opposite side of your desk, and ushers a bag towards you anyway.

Gojo!Satoru who can’t help but smirk when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of your favorite snack.

Gojo!Satoru who doesn’t even bother to tease you about not eating when he sees just how much you’re enjoying the treats he bought for you.

Gojo!Satoru who pauses in eating his own sweets, just to watch you with probably lovestruck eyes.

Gojo!Satoru who made it overly obvious that he was literally beyond head over heels for you.

Gojo!Satoru who was confused when you’d blatantly ignore or just straight up deny his advances.

Gojo!Satoru who was sure you liked him too, so what was the big deal?

Gojo!Satoru who overheard your conversation with some other sorcerers that had cornered you one day.

Gojo!Satoru who immediately learned the reason as to why you kept sidestepping his proposals. You were being shunned, and put down by people he thought were your friends.

Gojo!Satoru who felt more than just angry at the pure bullshit he heard those people telling you.

Gojo!Satoru who made it a point to randomly pop in the conversation, and whisk you away to some quiet, secluded area.

Gojo!Satoru who decided right there on the spot, that it was now or never.

Gojo!Satoru who felt like his chest was going to explode from nerves the moment he confessed his true feelings to you.

Gojo!Satoru who was usually very confident, and even a little egotistical, found himself unable to look you in the eye as he told you just how much cared about you, despite his snarky behavior.

Gojo!Satoru whose face turned the same shade of a tomato when you timidly accepted his feelings, and agreed to date him.

Gojo!Satoru who couldn’t even hold back the cheek burning smile that instantly spread across his face as you excused yourself, and walked back to your classroom.

Gojo!Satoru who literally almost did a heel click right then and there, but decided that he’d just go get you some lunch. (He wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not, but that didn’t matter. He was set on being the best boyfriend you could ever have.)

Gojo!Satoru who was not in the least bit concerned about keeping your relationship a secret.

Gojo!Satoru who would, more often than not, call you his wife in public and always have a hand or resting on either your waist or shoulder.

Gojo!Satoru who would take his naps in your classroom when the students were out on missions for the day. He’d pull up a chair and rest his head in your lap while you diligently worked on grading tests and homework.

Gojo!Satoru who makes it a point to show you how much he appreciates you, and loves you for you.

Gojo!Satoru who doesn’t call your belly rolls fat, and instead calls them “love handles”.

Gojo!Satoru who loves to hug you, and cuddle you, because you feel so soft and warm. It helps him sleep on particularly restless nights. You ground him, and he can’t possibly think about what he’d do without his beautiful curvaceous queen.

#jjk gojo #soft gojo #fypシ #gojo satoru #gojo x gn!reader #jjk x reader #tumblr fyp #jujutsu kaisen

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fllarwx · 2 days

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒,𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒,𝐉𝐀𝐖-𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓!

𝐓𝐖:𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱,𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯,𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠,𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧,𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

You were part of the FBI,you joined a couple of months ago so you were pretty new.

You would normally focus on work and the cases you were given.However,you were focused on work while someone was focused on you

Spencer Reid

He couldn’t take his eyes off you ever since you joined,you were like an angel sent from above.You were beautiful in his eyes

But he only watched from afar and would only talk to you when you got partnered up for cases anything outside of work he would become a stuttering mess

What he didn’t know is that you noticed,you noticed him staring at you,smiling at you,blushing because of you.

So you did something about it

You were reading over file after file when you saw Spencer walking past you

You put the file down,looking up at him smiling before speaking

“Hey Spencer,you alright”you said smiling looking up at him since he wasn’t taller than you,since you were 5,4 and he was around 6,0

He looked down at you becoming a stuttering mess,you smiled even more giggling “you okay there spence”

That nickname you gave him made him go insane,everytime you said it he would get even more hungry for you,for your body

He smirked looking down at you “I’m doing amazing now that your speaking to me”

You were shocked you had never seen this side of Spencer “oh yeah how amazing are you talking about” you asked biting your lip

“How about I show you” Spencer got closer you were now hitting the wall behind you

You nervously gulped “be my guest spence”

All of a sudden he smashed his lip against yours you immediately kissed back both becoming hungry for each other

He picked you up,you wrapped your legs around him he made his way down your neck all the way to your collarbone it was like his lips were magic

You moaned he looked up at you before asking “do you want this,do you want me?” He said smirking

You nodded frantically your panties becoming wet from his voice and his dominance

“Use your words darling” “yes please Spencer I need you” he smiled putting you down

“Knees now” he said looking down as you got on your knees he unbuckled his belt like it wasn’t anything

“You know what to do” you started at the tip before taking his big cock in your mouth,he threw his head back

“That’s a good girl” he moaned that nickname made you go feral something corrupted you

You sucked faster Spencer started to moan louder his whimpers becoming more vibrant

You felt him twitch inside your mouth before he exploded inside your mouth “swallow” he said in a deep,corrupted voice

You did as he said he was now helping you up pushing onto the table throwing everything that was on it onto the floor

“Are you sure we should do it in here”you asked innocently looking up at him through your mascara covered lashes

“I want you and I want you now” he said coming closer

You stared at each other for a while before Spencer ripped your top off you doing the same you both were now undressed

He flipped you over you were now straddling him before he said “my cock is throbbing for your pussy”

You slowly went down on his dick closing your eyes as his 8 inches went inside of you

You started to whimper “f-fuck Spencer your s-so big.” He smirked knowing he was destroying your pretty little cunt

“Yeah you like that don’t you pretty girl..you like my cock inside your pretty cunt” that made you shiver

“Mhm” “use your words pretty girl” you moaned even more “yes,yes spence I love your big cock in my cunt”

He smirked his thrusts became quicker and harder “how much do you want this cock huh?take like a good little girl you are..”

Spencer started moaming becoming a hot mess “fuck I’m close” he said

He grabbed your neck choking you but letting some air out

“Me too spence,m-me too” you started moaning and whimpering

The not you felt in your stomach was coming undone you were now both moaning in sync before you both let go

Cum was running down his dick while his cum was filling you up

You were now both breathing heavily

𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #Spencerreidsmut

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acewritesfics · 2 days

Text

There's a lot of making up to do | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, a minor side character being a drunk. Former friends to lovers. As usual italics are flashbacks.

Word Count: 2,990

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"This girl should be out on a farm, with lots of grass and space to run," Y/N says as she runs a brush through the mare her father was keeping at his scrap metal yard. "All the noise and ruckus has her anxious and scared."

"She's here temporarily," Charlie tells her as Curly starts cleaning the mares shoes and hooves. "Tommy's still looking for a home for her."

"I see that hasn't changed," she chuckles.

“What hasn’t changed?” Y/N hears from behind her.

She pauses her grooming of the horse and turns towards the person who just spoke. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” she says with a small smirk on her face. “Good to see you again, Tom.”

“Y/N Strong,” a smile also appears on his face. He hadn’t seen his childhood friend in 7, almost 8, years. As soon as there were talks of war, Y/N had left for London to go become a nurse. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” she agrees, “and it’s also Y/N L/N now.”

“You’re married?” He asks unsure how he felt about it. Y/N didn’t know it but she was the one who got away. The first girl he loved, and the only person he’s loved unconditionally. He thought he had moved past all the feelings he had for her. She was out of sight out of mind except when he over heard his “Uncle” Charlie mention her when someone asked how his daughter was doing. But seeing her here in Birmingham, in Small Heath, those feelings were flooding back.

“Not anymore,” she tells him, turning back to the horse, her smile disappearing. “You know, you really ought to find her a home, out in the countryside, away from all this noise and chaos.”

“How long are you back for?” He asks ignoring what she just said about the horse.

“I have cottage on the outskirts of town,” she tells him.

“Will you be at the Garrison tonight?” He asks, sounding slightly hopeful.

“I might be,” she tells him. “Dads invited me out for a drink. He told me it’s under new ownership.” She adds smirking slightly letting him know she’s heard about him buying the pub.

“I’ll see you tonight, then,” he smiles as he starts to leave.

“I said I might be there,” she reminds him.

He turns to face her once again, walking back over to her, this time standing so close, she could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of cigarettes. “You’re never able to stay away.”

“I was the one who moved away, wasn’t I?” She challenges him but knows she’s last as she realises her words hold nothing.

“But you’ve moved back,” he points out, his smile still on his lips. “Now why is that?”

“If you think it’s because of you, think again, Thomas Shelby,” she says before tip-toeing to place a kiss on his cheek. “It was good to see you again,” she goes back to brushing the mare who has seemed to calm down a little.

Later that night, Y/N walks into the Garrison and is surprised to see how much it has changed. Tommy has really tidied the place up. For her it doesn’t seem as cozy as it use to be. But it’s still nice.

She quickly spots her dad and Curly sitting at a table off to the side and starts making her way towards them. But she only gets a couple of feet when she’s stopped by someone.

“We’ll look who it is, looking even more beautiful than she did when she left us.”

A large smile makes its way onto her face as she turns to greet Polly. “And look at you, as stunning as always, Aunt Polly.”

Polly pulls her in for a tight hug. Y/N’s mother walked out on her and her father not long after her 2nd birthday with no explanation for her absence and just a note saying goodbye. She was just gone. Charlie always told Y/N when she was older that her mother wasn’t ready to become one when she was born, she couldn’t bond with Y/N and aside from feeding Y/N, Charlie mostly cared for her.

Until Polly and the Shelby siblings mother stepped up. In the way that her father had become Arthur Jr, Tommy, John, Ada and Finn’s uncle, their mother and Aunt became her Aunts who were like a mother to her. Y/N couldn’t be more grateful for the two woman who helped raise her. Her heart broke almost as much as the Shelby's did when Mrs. Shelby passed.

"Tommy told me you were back," she smiles, letting her go. "How long have you been back?"

"A few days," she tells her. "I wanted to unpack and get settled in before I made my presence known again. Dad was the only one I told about me returning."

"Were you hoping to surprise us or is there a reason you didn't want to tell us?" she asks feeling a little offended that Charlie was the only one she told.

"Surprise!" Y/N cheers, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "Did you really think there was a reason I wouldn't tell you about me coming home?"

"And I haven't heard from you in a while. I wasn't sure," Polly admits, voicing her worries.

"I'm sorry I haven't written or called in a while," Y/N apologises for her lack of communication. "I had a lot going on."

"I understand," Polly smiles reassuringly. "You can tell me all about it over a cup of tea tomorrow."

"Sounds wonderful," her smile falters a little. The only people who knew about her husband was her dad and Tommy but they didn't know the full extent of what happened.

Polly hugs her once more before making her way back to the gentleman who she was occupying her time with. Y/N continues to make her way over to her father.

An hour goes by before Y/N sees Tommy walking through the door and towards the bar. She politely leaves the table and makes her way over to Tommy before he can disappear into the snug beside the bar where she knows him and his brother go for privacy.

"Tommy, can I speak with you, please?" she asks as she reaches him.

"Is everything all right?" he asks her as he gets the bottle of whiskey that he ordered.

"Is there anything I can get you, Y/N?" Harry asks before she can answer Tommy.

"No thank you, Harry, I'm good for now," she smiles politely at the bartender and former owner and turns back to Tommy. "Everything is fine. I have a suggestion for that horse of yours."

"I'm looking for a more suitable space for her," he tells her, trying to assure her the horse will be okay.

"What's her name?" she asks.

"Rosebud," he tells her.

A look of shock makes its way onto her face when she hears the name of the horse.

“Rosebud?” she asks, wanting to make sure that’s what she heard him say.

“She looks like her, doesn’t she?” He replies.

Y/N’s taken back to when they were about 13-years-old. She’d drawn a horse that looked very similar to the horse Tommy now owns, claiming that she’ll one day own a horse that looked just like that. Tommy laughed at her thinking she’d never find a horse that looked exactly like her drawing.

As soon as he saw his horse grazing in a paddock on one of his drives out of Birmingham, he thought he was hallucinating. The mare was a remarkable resemblance to the one Y/N had drawn when they were younger. Once he realised he wasn’t hallucinating, he hatched a plan to convince the owner to sell her to him. It didn’t take much convincing for the owner to hand her over to him.

“She does,” she agrees now that she’s reminded of the drawing she drew. Letting out a laugh of disbelief, she shakes her head. “How did you even remember that silly drawing?”

“I remember a lot of things,” he tells her simply as those brilliant icy blue eyes of his bore into her. “And it wasn’t a silly drawing. You were so sure that horse you drew existed somewhere out there.”

“She was always in my dreams,” she smiles. “That’s how I knew she was real,” she continues before laughing and gently hitting his shoulder before grasping it. “And now the boy who didn’t believe me has her. What a coincidence,” she chuckles and let’s go of him. “This is wonderful.”

“What did you need to talk about?” Tommy asks, an amused look on his face.

“Oh right,” her amusement falters slightly as she remembers that she needed to speak with him. “It’s actually about the horse… Rosebud. I may have somewhere you can keep her. It’s away from all the noise and smoke. She’ll have plenty of room to run and graze. There’s also a small barn that could be turned into a shelter for her.”

“Where is it?” He asks.

“Not far out of town. I can meet you there tomorrow, show you it. The owners already given permission for you to use it,” she tells him, adding the last part to reassure him everything has already been set up.

“How does 9AM sound?” He asks. “Not too early for you?”

“Not at all,” she agrees to the time and tells him the address. “I have to get back to my dad. I’ll see you at 9.”

Tommy nods and watches her go back over to Charlie and Curly.

Y/N checks the clock in the entry way seeing that it is 8:57AM. Tommy would be arriving any minute and the sun had yet to shine through the cloudy skies. The smell and the feeling in the air let her know it was going to rain soon and she wanted to show Tommy where Rosebuds potential new home could be. After a minute passes she decides to stand outside and wait for her childhood friend.

As she waits for Tommy her mind goes back to the last time she was with him.

It was the night before she was meant to leave for London. She’d said goodbye to everyone except Tommy who had suddenly disappeared.

After scouring all the places he could be, she found him sitting on her bed after she returned home feeling defeated that she couldn't find him. Seeing him sitting there she feels relieved but also angry as she glares at him.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you?" she scolds him, letting her anger win.

"You have no right being angry with me," he glares back at her as he stands up. "You're the one who's leaving, after all."

"You're the one who encouraged me to go," she shouts back at him. Confusion adding to her frustration. "What was it that you said? You'll be the best nurse this country ever has? You were made to be a nurse, because you're always looking after others? London will be lucky to have you?"

"Well I've changed my mind," the 21-year old Tommy, backtracks on his words. "Maybe London won't be lucky to have you and you'll make a terrible nurse."

"Get out," she yells at him, throwing her hand towards her bedroom door and pointing to it.

"No," he says stubbornly standing his ground.

"Leave, before I decide I never want to see your face again."

Tommy sits back on her bed, further proving that he wasn't going anywhere.

"What is it that you want, Thomas?" she asks, giving into the young man's stubbornness after a few moments go by.

"I want you," he declares. "Because I am in love with you."

Y/N is stunned. Her heart is beating out of her chest and there is a lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything.

"I've been in love with you for so long," he continues.

"Why now, Tommy?" she says exasperated, feeling tears build up in her eyes. She can't remember the moment she fell in love with her best friend but she knows it was a long time ago.

"Because I don't want you to go," he stands up and moves in front of her.

She refuses to look at him, knowing as soon as she meets those beautiful blue eyes of his she'll give into him. "I have to," she sighs resting her head on his chest. "I start nursing school in two days. I can't back out now. It's too late."

"I know," he says as his arms wrap tightly around her. "Tell me you love me too and give me tonight. Then we can go from there."

Lifting her head from his chest, she pulls him in for a kiss.

That night she had gotten little sleep wanting to spend every minute she could with him. Tommy stayed with her until she got in her car to drive to London.

Once she settled in London, Tommy went to see her on the weekends he wasn't busy with the illegal betting den his father started. They wrote letters every week, reminding each other how much they loved them and missed them. There was a few weekends that Tommy was with her when he talked about moving to London to be with her. He even got as far as packing his trunks with all his belongings but then his dad had disappeared on one of his benders, leaving him and Arthur Jr to pick up the pieces. They were both frustrated and disappointed but aside from that things were going well between them.

Until the war happened a year later.

They had both been shipped off to France, Tommy to fight and Y/N to tend to the wounded. Letters became less frequent as the war went on. The letters eventually stopped under the war ended and Y/N sent a letter to Polly to make sure everyone made it out. Tommy was the one to reply to her, telling her he loved her but nothing was the same anymore. That was the last letter she received from him despite her having written to him multiple times.

Y/N's pulled from her thoughts when Tommy's car pulls up outside the front gate. She waves to him as he gets out and closes the door behind him. Opening the little gate, he walks closer to her.

"Did you say to meet here so I can pick you up?" he asks her, dressed in nice suit, his peaky cap on his head and a cigarette hanging from his lips as he buttons up the jacket.

"No, this is the place I told you about," she informs him and takes his hand.

He allows her to lead her through her small cottage and into the backyard. At the edge of the backyard was another little gate that lead to a paddock and a small barn structure that could indeed be converted into shelter for Rosebud.

They reach the small barn just as it starts pouring with rain. The heavy rain showed that the barn had a few leaks that could easily be fixed.

"So, what do you think?" Y/N asks, letting go of his hand and moving to face him.

"You were right about it being enough room for her and being away from the noise and smoke," he says pleased with the space. "How much do you want for me keeping her here?"

"I don't want any money, Tom," she replies. "You pay for her feed and upkeep and she can stay here free."

"What about the barn?" he asks.

"You can pay for the conversion, if you must."

"Anything else?"

"You can let me ride her and let me groom her but you must clean out her stall. She is your horse after all."

"Fair enough," he agrees and looks at her. She looks back at him before looking away and like she there was more that she wanted to say. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Y/N looks at one of the leaks as though she's inspecting it but the leak is the last thing on her mind as she ponders whether it would be a good idea to bring up the past or not.

"Why did you never write back?" she asks, unable to stop herself from asking.

"The man who came back from France wasn't the same one you fell in love with and he wasn't the man you deserved," he answers, his eyes never leaving her. "From when we were kids, I was always told that you were too good for me."

"And it took a war for you to listen to those people?" she asks now looking at him. "When have you ever listened to other people's opinions?"

"It's not just their opinions, Y/N," he goes on to explain. "It's what I've done, who I have become. I'm a bad man who's done bad things."

"We've all done bad things, Tom," she tells him.

"I never stopped loving you," he tells her. "Seeing you yesterday reminded me that I still do."

"It's too late," she tells him, thinking about all the time she could have had with Tommy but because of his decision she spent it with a man who was drunk more than sober and eventually took his own life. Was she in love with this man? No, because she never stopped loving the man standing in front of her right now.

"No it's not," he says moving closer to her. She makes no move to stop him as he takes her face in his hands and tilts it up, making her look at him. "Tell me you still love me too."

"I never stopped loving you too," she admits out loud. "There's a lot of making up to do."

"Then let's start right now," he says and pulls her in for a kiss.

#acewritesfics repost #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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thosefuzzywordfeelings · 1 day

Note

Can I make a request?

Eddie munson with 67 and/or 68?

If not, that's totally fine. But either way, Thank you!

whewwww i love those prompts so much 😮‍💨 thank you for the rq! ✨

CW; mention of slight violence from eddie towards someone else (protective king), spanking, slight? choking 😌✨

“Eddie, I’m serious. Like, deadass serious right now.”

“I couldn’t hurt you love. Not that far. Little smack on this pretty ass is fine but that?” Eddie sighed, as you straddled his waist and looked down at him. He was smiling up at you softly, curls fanned out on the pillow as his hands stroked up and down your thighs.

Things could get pretty rough between the two of you, asscheeks often red if your face was smushed into the mattress, but he was always so…sweet. Little praises, ‘you’re doing so well for me sweetheart’ and ‘look so pretty when you take it like this’. But you’d seen him the night before outside the bar when the barman got a little handsy with you, Eddie’s hands scrunched up in the barman’s jacket as he shoved him up against the wall, getting in his face and threatening him with a ‘if you ever lay a fingertip on her, or your eyeballs roll in her direction, i will fucking ruin you.’

Since then your body had been on fire, his dark eyes somehow darker etched in your mind. And now this, after a morning spent napping and drinking painful amounts of coffee to wash away the liquor of yesterday, you were atop your boyfriend, needy.

“Baby…” You whined quietly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. His hands slid up over your back, resting there before travelling down to the swell of your ass and pulling it down against him.

“Yes love?” Eddie spoke back, his voice rough from smoking but his tone gentle and sweet. As always.

Reaching a hand down between the two of you, you’d cup his growing length through his pyjama pants, squeezing him hardly.

“Fuck - what’re you playing at? Tryna rile me up?” Eddie growled softly, his hand coming to your wrist but you quickly pinned it up above his head with your free hand, bringing your face up to hover above his.

“I want you.”

“You can have me.”

“But I want you…rough, Eddie. I want you to make me cry. I want you to-“ You brought your lips to his as they suddenly hung open in shock at your quick change of demeanour, “fucking ruin me.”

His big doe eyes looked up at yours, searching for any jest or hesitation, and when he found none - only sincerity and pure unadulterated lust in your irises - his eyes darkened. Just as they did the night before. His hand snaked up your chest, settling around your throat as he smiled sweetly before pushing you back ferociously against the mattress; a gasp leaving your lungs as you focused on the way he knelt in between your legs.

“Last night….” Eddie spoke, a new tone to his voice, “turned you on, didn’t it sweetheart?” His hands ran along your thighs again, squeezing them tighter than usual as he spread them open further to settle on top of his own. You nodded cutely, your own eyes widening as the throbbing between your legs grew.

“Say it again. Tell me how it made you feel.” Eddie whispered, pulling your hips so your ass rested in front of his knees before leaning down to hover above you this time.

“You - you looked so angry, Eddie, so protective, just made me - want you like that.” You’d stutter as his hands travelled across your body, fingertips digging in harder than before.

“Yeah. Fucking asshole, thinks he can lay his hands on you, just because you’re gorgeous and sexy and beautiful and wonderful-“ Eddie started his sentence angry but pressed kisses to your lips with all the praises that followed.

You giggled against his lips before pulling away, noticing he was smirking down at you.

“You’re rutting against me like a feral little puppy do you know that?” He taunted lowly, looking down at where you were subconsciously bucking your hips up in an attempt to feel him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Please-“ You begged softly, hands pulling his wrists away from your body and down towards your inner thighs. Thinking you were in control for a moment, you let out a slight giggle but it was quickly squashed with a gasp and a loud mewl as he brought his hand down to smack your clothed core.

“You want me to ruin you and you can’t even wait five minutes? Oh sweetheart…you’re gonna need to be more patient than that.” He condescended, tilting his head with a smirk as he watched you fall down the rabbit hole of submission.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #asks #prompts #i’m feral

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 2 days

Text

Foxglove

(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)

I didn’t mean to summon the ghost. Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.

My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start. “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else. Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”

“I can’t. Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more. I dream about her pretty much every night.”

Cyprus closed his eyes. His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.

I leaned across the table, making my eyes big. “You can do it, right?”

“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”

“You’re a straight-A student.”

“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”

But he could.

Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen. She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.

After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her. She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.

I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her. I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive. Since then, I couldn’t stop.

Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.

“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.” He put his cat carrier in the center of the room. He drew the sigils around it in chalk. He set up the candles. “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”

“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”

“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”

He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.

Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper. “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said. “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here. And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”

“Got it.”

He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.

He paused. “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”

“Sorry.”

This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait. Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman. I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.

I imagined a relationship with a ghost. A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here. They usually stayed tethered to one place. I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.

“No,” she screamed. “No!”

I looked over at her. She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt. But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos. She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.

She looked between me and Cyprus. “Why would you do this?”

“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”

She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.

“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.

He didn’t look back. Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.

She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.

“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.

“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned. But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”

She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.

It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience. I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.

She slammed doors. Chilled rooms. Flung objects. Sobbed in the night.

“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”

You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling? Well, that’s what happened next. Fortunately, no bones were broken.

Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project. He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.

“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus. “An exorcist?”

“Close. I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”

“Great. A student. They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”

Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!” For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name. “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”

She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her. She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream. “It’s not fair,” she said. “It’s my house.”

“I know,” he said, sadly. Well, sadly for him. He had a catlike way of emoting.

“I remember Heaven in flashes. I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to. “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again. All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”

“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice. “I could write it down, and publish it. And people could read about you.”

Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait. “I’d like that.”

I felt sidelined, like a third wheel. It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.

My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine. But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish. And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.

I’d apologized. He hadn’t. He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created. But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him. If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.

That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery. About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral. About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.

She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t will her limbs to move. “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused. “I did. But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”

Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes. He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible. His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.

“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder. “Can I come back Thursday night?”

“I’ll be here,” she said. Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.

I could have tried talking to her.

Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.

“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed. “You wanted her till she was a real person.”

It was true. I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.

“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.

“I know.”

“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”

“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.” She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask. “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”

#short fiction #original short story #ghost story #romance story #my writing #writing #fiction

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midastouch-zaza · 2 days

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R! Is Sullyoon's boyfriend. One night, a succubus that's identical to his girlfriend enters his dream and wants to fuck him, but instead he's the one fucking the succubus.

(Or is it only just a dream tho? Possibly, she's in the succubus outfit just like in his "dream"?)

When you woke up that night, you immediately noticed that something was off. The whole atmosphere of your room was odd, it was almost if you were not completely lucid; but the most strange thing was that your gf, Sullyoon, was not laying next to you and was not in the room in general.

Suddendly she basically appeared at the side of your bed, wearing such a different outfit for her style: a black corset with a crisscross strap on her chest, ending with a short skirt barely covering her silky thighs. But the detail that really stole your attention were some new...features: in fact the girl was presenting a couple of red scarlet wings, another couple of horns on her head, and, in the end, a long black tail with an heart in the end.

"Mmh, this sexy boy looks so hot while sleeping, you really made me excited", she said in a sultry voice, getting on the bed and crawling towards you. "I can't wait anymore to get a taste of you, sweetie", she spoke in such a different way than usual, but you would lie if you didn't admit that you were getting horny.

And she must have noticed that too, because she quickly put her hand on your clothed bulge, rubbing through your pants. "Is this big fat cock for me, sexy boy?", she asked, biting her lips, before taking your shorts down. Smirking, she moved her head closer to your shaft, beginning to lick your balls.

She kept working on your intimate area, slowly moving up, till covering your tip in kisses. It was exciting, but things were going too much slow for your taste. "Sorry, baby, but you know me, this won't do it", now it was your turn to grin, turning her smirk into a puzzled face.

You didn't give her any answer, but just pushed her head down, making her engulf your whole cock. She gagged and almost choke on it, her eyes got watery, feeling your tip hitting her throat. From there you started moving your hips, fucking her pretty face, using her horns to move her head up and down.

"Yes, choke on this beast, you slut", you growled, pumped by the warm pleasing feeling around your cock. She squeezed your legs, trying to "survive" to the face fucking, and she barely managed to do that, especially when you released your seed in her mouth.

She was busy coughing and gulping down your cum and didn't notice that you moved behind her. She realized that just when you pushed her forward, making her laying on her chest on the mattress. "I'm not still done, whore", you warned her, lifting her skirt, finally admiring her fat booty in all its beauty.

"No no, wait a seco-", her words got stuck in her already used throat because you slammed your hard shaft in her pretty pussy. You blocked her arm behind her back, starting to pound without any mercy, making the girl moan like a whore. She was loving how much your dick was stretching her.

"I'm gonna breed you, bitch", you growled, while slapping her ass until leaving the mark of your hand on her booty cheek. And, given that you were already there, you had a fun idea: with a sharp movement, you pulled her slim tail. That move alone made Sullyoon cum, covering your still thrusting cock with her juices.

"Kinky slut, take my cum", you told her, fucking her through her climax, making her eyes rolls back and her tongue sticks out due to the pleasure. The pleasure made her pussy clench around your cock so strongly that she basically milked you out, leaving an huge dump of cum inside her ruined pussy.

After that...the darkness. You woke up the next morning being sure that it was just a fantastic dream. "Good morning, honey", Sullyoon said cheerfully, standing on the doorstep. "Come to have breakfast with me", she told you, leaving the room. You nodded ready to leave the bed, when a thought popped up in your mind: why the black dress she was wearing was so familiar?

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #nmixx sullyoon #nmixx smut #nmixx x male reader #sullyoon smut #sullyoon x male reader

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dinogoofymutated · 15 hours

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Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!

I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...

Especially for Warren....

I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.

Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)

Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️

Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader

OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!

Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.

Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.

And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!

It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.

Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.

You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!

Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?

“What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him.

“If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on.

“A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention.

“A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.

“You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you.

“You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.

“Can it, dude”

The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.

He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing.

Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief.

...

The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion.

It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind.

You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.

“What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.

“He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.

“You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs.

“I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart.

“Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder.

“Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face.

“That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.

“What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.

“I- Huh?”

“You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.

“What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.

“Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.

“By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.

“No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He’s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.

“Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.

“What?” He asks.

“Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.

“I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.

“Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss.

You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth.

When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?

“...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.

“Yeah, Probably.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #x men warren worthington #warren worthington iii #x men angel #x men angel x reader #angel x reader

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cardcaptorsakura96 · 3 days

Text

Finding Each Other-Chapter 3

Fandom: Superman, Batman, Shazam, and Wonder Woman

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Dick Grayson, Diana Prince, Billy Batson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Kara Zor El, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Lex Luthor, Jonathan Kent, Connor Kent

Summary: Clark Kent always knew he wanted a family. He just always thought it would be traditional like his parents. Little did he know that destiny had something different in store for him.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Clark followed B and Dick out to a white Rolls-Royce. B went to the passenger door and opened it for Clark and said, “After you.”

Clark blushed and said, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

B smirked and said, “But I insist.”

Dick giggled as he got into the back seat of the car and said, “You guys are funny.”

Clark blushed harder as B chuckled as he went to the driver’s side and got in. The distance between the museum and Bruce home was short. They were only in the car for ten minutes chatting some more about Atlantis when Clark just stared at the scene before him with his mouth wide open. Bruce had initially stopped at a gate. Once he put in a code, it opened to the most beautiful scenery that Clark had ever seen. It was a mansion. The biggest mansion that Clark had ever seen. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had over 100 ones inside. While the outside had a dark gothic look, it was counterbalanced by the assortment of beautiful flowers on the outside as well. The flowers did make the mansion appear less threatening.

B smirked and said, “You seemed surprised.”

Clark chuckled and said, “Well, I have never seen a mansion so big so far.”

B chuckled and said, “That is refreshing to know.”

Clark looked at B confused and asked, “How so?”

B smiled and said, “I am used to people either trying to play it cool when they come here or being self-important. However, you are different. You seemed to be very much in awe of the place.”

Clark chuckled and said, “It is not hard too. Not only is the size incredible, but the gothic feel combined with the flowers, make it appear welcoming.”

B chuckled and said, “That would be my mother’s doing. When she moved here, she hated the place because it reminded her of the TV show Dark Shadows.”

Clark chuckled and said, “That is a show I haven’t heard of in a long while.”

B looked at him startled and asked, “So you are familiar?”

Clark smiled and said, “I used to watch the old episodes with my Pa. It had everything I liked in fantasy: vampires, witches, love, and death. It was quite thrilling.”

B looked at Clark impressed and said, “I haven’t met that many people my age that have seen it before.”

Clark sighed and said, “I am not surprised. It is from a while ago. I wished the movie they did recently did it justice.”

B sighed and said, “I couldn’t agree more.” B shook his head with a wistful smile and said, “My mother used to joke that she thought that Barnabas Collins haunted the grounds and would come out to get her.”

Clark raised an eyebrow and asked, “Really?”

B nodded while smiling and said, “My dad thought it was funny at first, but seeing how scared out of her mind she was decided to redirect her focus to something positive. He suggested gardening which she took to like drinking water. She planted so many flowers of different colors to liven up the place.” B’s face fell a bit before wiping off a tear from her eyes and said, “I wish you could have met her. She was a very lovely and gentle soul.”

Clark didn’t know what to say to that but decided to gently squeeze B’s hand who smiled back in appreciation. As they continued up the driveway, they finally got up to the front of the mansion after a couple of minutes. When Clark looked up, the front door was open with a man already standing there in a three-piece black suit. He seemed like an older gentleman either in his late 60s or early 70s. Dick instantly got out of the car and ran ahead of them to the older gentleman and instantly embraced him in a hug.

The man smiled and said, “Master Dick, it is nice to see you too. I take it you and your dad had a good time?”

Dick looked up at the older gentleman, smiled, and said, “We had the best time, Alfie! We learned about Atlantis and I got cool stuff from the gift shop.” Dick instantly opened the bag and showed the older gentleman its contents.

The older gentleman chuckled and said, “I see you are adding more to your Superman collection.”

Dick smiled and said, “Yup.” Dick looked back to Clark and B coming up right behind him on the stairs and then directed the older gentleman’s direction to Clark and said, “Oh! We made a new friend tonight too, Clark. He has a lot of awesome ideas about Atlantis.”

The older gentleman smiled at Clark and said, “I see.” He raised his hand to shake Clark’s and said, “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It is nice to meet you.”

Clark shook Alfred’s hand and said, “It is nice to meet you.”

B smiled and said, “Alfred is my adopted father after my parents died.”

Clark smiled and said, “You raised a fine young man.”

Alfred chuckled and said, “Heavens know that it was a struggle, but I believe everything turned out good in the end.”

B chuckled and said, “Alfred is putting it mildly. I was a little hell raiser.”

Clark smirked and said, “I still can’t imagine that.”

Alfred smirked and said, “He used to get into a lot of mischief growing up. However, I wouldn’t trade it for anything for the world.”

B smiled softly and said, “Thanks, Alfred.”

Alfred placed a gentle hand on B and smiled. Clark's heart warmed at the sight of the love between the two.

Alfred cleared his throat and said, “Well, let’s not keep you all outside.”

As they entered the foyer, Alfred asked, “Shall I get you guys anything?”

B shook his head and said, “I was just going to make us sandwiches. I thought we could have chips and ice cream with it for dessert.”

Alfred nodded and said, “Very well. I will be upstairs in my room reading if you need anything.”

Alfred proceeded to head up to the staircase a couple of feet in front of him while B and Dick started to head down the hall to the right with Clark following right behind them. After walking for a couple of minutes, they entered a brightly lit kitchen. B went to the fridge while Clark and Dick sat at the kitchen island.

As B looked through the fridge, he said, “Clark, if you could have any sandwich right now, what would it be?”

Clark looked up thoughtfully and said, “A roast beef sandwich on white bread.”

B nodded and said, “Coming right up. Did you have any preferences for toppings?”

Clark smiled and said, “If you have mayo, cheddar cheese, and lettuce, that would be awesome! If not, the roast beef and bread will be fine.”

B chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, I got you covered. The best parts of the sandwich are the toppings. I tend to be more into honey mustard fan myself when it comes to toppings.”

B brought over all the ingredients to the kitchen island.

B looked up at Dick and asked, “I assume that you are wanting your usual?”

Dick nodded enthusiastically and asked, “Can I have the sour cream and onion chips too?”

B nodded and said, “They should be in the pantry. Do you mind getting them out and the BBQ flavored chips and…” B turned to Clark and asked, “Was there a particular flavor of chips you preferred?”

Clark smiled and said, “I am actually a big fan of sour creme and onion, especially the ones from Pringles.”

Dick smiled and said, “Those are my favorite too even though Lay’s sour creme and onion is a close second.”

Clark nodded and said, “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Dick beamed and said, “I’ll go get the chips. I’ll be right back.”

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inactivewattpadauthor · 3 days

Text

Kabal x Reader: Usual Visit

~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Pleasure doing business with ya as always, Flash." The red eyed Aussie grins wickedly at Kabal after handing him today's cut. The fast man smirks beneath the mask, counting through his pay like a child in triumph after doing such simple allowance.

Simple tasks such as terrorizing and killing a few people for Kano due to late fees they never paid back. How unfortunate for them, but to Kabal - and definitely Kano - a job is a job.

"Don't spend it all on hooks and hookers." Kano joked before dismissing Kabal off.

"Right," Kabal scoffed with amusement. "I have better things to spend it on." Without giving Kano the chance to pretend to be interested enough to ask, Kabal dashed off in his usual abnormal speed. Far outside the clan, he runs to a big house on a hill. Thank the gods, no cars were outside, and he's willing to bet there isn't one inside the garage.

Carefully, he walks around the house to the back and knocks on a specific window.

...

You peered at the window, putting down your brush and walking to see who it was. Pushing the blinds away, you smile happily to see your masked friend. Opening the window with a little struggle, you greet him. "Kabal!" You lean over to kiss his cheek affectionately. If only you see the goofy, flustered smirk beneath his mask.

"Hey, Y/n! Doing well today?" He asks charmingly.

"Fine as usual. I don't take my medication until about an hour, so I'm not drowsy yet." You shrug with an aloof hint. But you didn't want to bring down the mood. "What did you do today? Beat any bad guys?!" Your eyes sparkled, hoping he has a cool story on how great of a hero he is.

"Ehh, just a few." Kabal says, tilting his hand side to side. "No one too powerful, but I still got a good amount of money from it." The boasting continues. You were slightly disappointed, not because there wasn't much of a story today, but-

"I thought heroes don't get paid." You murmur with furrowed brows. You folded your arms on the window frame and rested your chin, looking at him, downed.

"Well, yeah- but I need to eat too, you know?"

"I guess." You agree with the easy excuse, much to his relief.

"I've actually forgot something for you! I'll be back in not even three seconds." Kabal promises. You lifted your head up and raised an eyebrow at him. It feels like a dare.

"Really? One-"

A gust of wind flew through your hair as Kabal rushes off, your heart skipping a beat or two before he suddenly appears back with a small bouquet of flowers. He makes sure to rip the price tag off before you notice. "Sorry, a few of the petals came off on the way back." He hands his gift to you.

The flowers were still pretty nevertheless. They brought a warm smile to your face, the joy radiating from you to Kabal. "They're beautiful! Thanks!"

"No problem. Is there something else I can do for you?"

Setting your gift gently aside, you thought for a moment. "Well, father doesn't let me order food online. For awhile, I've been wanting to try that bakery from down-" You weren't given the chance to finish your sentence before he rushes off again.

Briefly he returns with a fancy bag for you. Inside was a fancy plastic box of macarons - and you knew those were pricy - along with fresh strawberries, covered in chocolate. One of your favorite treats that made you disregard sadness. "Ohh, thank you so much, Kabal. I'll go get my-"

"No need, princess." Kabal 'humbly' raises his hand. "It's my treat to treat you."

You softly coo at him before you hear the garage open. Readjusting your gown you stood up, alerted. "My dad's back. You should probably go now." You warn him. He nods and steps back.

"I'll visit you again soon, okay?"

"Okay." You smile once more. "Thank you for stopping by."

Kabal takes off before he gets caught. As for you, you hid the flowers somewhere. Before you hid your treats, you took one out to eat it before hiding it.

What an admirable hero Kabal is. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

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