#capable of coming out and rolling around like marbles

[soaked4mk]

It’s still me // Love sick! (Mk1) Johnny Cage x Reader

⚠️: Slight Violence/blood, Possessiveness?, Manipulation, Dub Con finger fucking, Man-handling.

👽: this has been in my drafts for a minute. Sorry I haven’t been writing a lot lately. Im finally done moving into my new HOMEE so I’m hopefully going to try to get more requests done// (not proof read)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

★ “Johnny! Oh my god— what the fuck did you do!?” You don’t even know how you ended up in this position, you were just trying to surprise your boyfriend with a new piece of jewelry. Dropping the small gift box, Looking down at the ground, trembling at the sight of your boyfriend who held this man by his hair, motionless on the floor. Blood leaking from his head and into the pool. You wretch at the sight, and turn away, holding your hand up to your mouth in attempt to keep the vomit that threatened to escape your body. “No!— no! You weren’t supposed to see this honey…”

★ Johnny immediately drops the man’s head, a thud followed as he did so. “Wait—wait, WAIT!” His strong hand grips your shoulder, forcing you to face the towering man before you. Eyes dilated, pin pointing his gaze through your own. “Baby, let me explain !” His voice trembled a bit, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “God fucking DAMN IT!” Cursing, running his bloodied fingers through his hair, he huffs.

★ Shaking your head, and taking a step back, you cause the man to frown. “J-Johnny…” you shakily choke out, completely shocked at the scene playing out in front of you. If you hadn’t just seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it. “Baby, he was an obstacle, I had to get that bastard taken care of.” he steps closer, backing you into a wall. “Please, understand, doll.” his voice cracked.

★ “Understand what!? Jesus, Johnny… you’ve killed a man!” “I’ve killed men.” He corrected, taking another step, causing your back to finally touch the wall. your blood ran cold as he approached you. “I’ve killed men for you.” He grabs both of your shoulders, pining you against the wall, lightly tracing his thumbs along your collarbones. Your eyes dart to the dead man behind him, before glancing towards the door. He sees your distracted face and tightens his grip.

★“I did this for you— everything I’ve ever done has been for you, Y/N… how the fuck do you not see that.” He looks back at the dead man, who was bleeding out into his pool. Face most likely unrecognizable, from having his head repeatedly bashed into the marble floor. “I mean…” He chuckled, half-shrugging before looking back at you “who else would do this for you?” You’re speechless, heart buzzing in your ears, your internal monologue was screaming at you to escape, run, to get the fuck out of here.

★ But you were frozen with fear. Feet rooted in place. After just witnessing what this man was capable of, you knew that there was no way in Hell you’d have a fair chance. Your throat went dry, and tears stung your eyes as you went mute. A chuckle rumbles through his chest again, snapping his fingers in your face. “I asked you a fucking question.”

★ Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t get a word out. Your chest was tight and you were visibly shaken, a tear rolled down your cheek. For some odd reason this made Johnny quickly switch his tone “Right, right…” Johnny took a deep breath, before releasing you. Rubbing his temples, staring at you and contemplating god knows what. He paces around for a moment as you stay in place, watching his sanity crack little by little. “Baby, I’m sorry, please—“ he laughed lightly “come on, you know me, you know I would never hurt you right…?” He asked, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

★ Flinching in return, Johnny winces at the sight, retracting his hand. You didn’t know. For the first time ever, you felt unsafe with your boyfriend. Saying nothing, your thoughts flooded your head, overlapping with questions and aching for answers.

★ The Johnny you knew was witty, funny, corny and sweet. The Johnny you knew could fight, sure…but kill? What were the signs…were there any? If so, when? Could you have prevented this? Or was he always the man standing before you, finally mask off. This thought process was cut short as Johnny sighed inwardly.

★ “Do you still love me…?” He asked genuinely, holding both of your hands in his. This caused your heart to drop. Did you..? How could you? He killed a man in cold blood. As much as you wanted to scream at him ‘no! I could never love a murderer!’ Your mouth wouldn’t let you. Your body rejected the thought of falling out of love with Johnny. So you stand there, eyes glancing at the body behind him before darting back to his gaze. Swallowing hard, you reply.

★ “I…I don’t even know who you are anymore…” Johnny frowned at your answer, leaning in, he started to gently kiss your neck. “It’s still me, sweetheart…” he cooed, nuzzling into the crook. Causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You know I only did it to protect you, right baby?” He continued, as he began to leave small marks on your neck. You let out a small whimper, internally cursing your bodies reaction to his touch.

★ “N-no...” you weakly attempt to push him away. Causing him to panic slightly. “Baby, please— before he could finish, you booked it. Johnny saw this, and grabbed your wrist with little to no effort, harshly throwing you to the ground. “You knew that wouldn’t work…” he scolded softly, walking passed you, lifting the feet up of the dead man. Dragging him further from the pool. “This guy,” Johnny suddenly switched conversation “you know, he had the fucking gaul to snap those pictures when you had that wardrobe malfunction?”

★ He asked, dropping the man’s feet carelessly. It was scary how quick he could switch from sweet to hostile—so casually…“And then he went on to send them to TMZ! out of all the fucking shit talkers.” He shook his head in disgust, kicking the dead body before approaching you again.

★ He helped you up, yanking you off of the ground by your arm. “Kitty, you weren’t even supposed to be here until,” he checked his watch. “Thirty minutes from now…” he looked at you with question. “I…I just wanted to surprise you.” You dryly replied, averting your gaze from his, your eyes land on the gift box on the floor.

★ Johnny smiles, his eyes softening at your answer. “Oh, sweetheart…” he shook his head a bit. “This is why I love you. You’re so thoughtful…” Johnny looked over his shoulder, peeking at the body “So good…” turning his gaze back to you, he guided you to the couch.

★ “Stay.” He simply commanded , as he went to continue dragging the body out of sight. You heard an audible thud before Johnny came back into the living room, scoffing at the sight of his bloodied pool. “I’m gonna need to completely drain and bleach this fucking thing…” Shaking his head, he walked back towards the couch, tucking a strand of hair out of your face.

★ Giving you the time to notice his bloodied and bruised knuckles. A part of you wanted to mend his wounds—contrast to your shocked state. But another part of you felt that as enabling the psychotic behavior. “You never answered me.” He snapped you back into reality, looming over you, as you’re back pressed into the soft couch cushion. “I-w-wha—

★ “Do you still love me, Y/N.” He gripped your cheeks with one hand, forcing you to look at him, making you yelp. “Y-yes!” You cry out, ripping your chin from his grip, you look away, and begin to sob. Letting the reality of the situation finally sink in. Before you could fully grasp your position however, Johnny smashed his lips against your own.

★ You melt into his touch, as it still feels familiar…warm and welcoming. Your common sense is thrown out the window as he holds the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, you run your fingers through his hair, tears spilling from your eyes, out of shame or maybe even guilt. Either way, your mind was convoluted.

★ Johnny smiled into the kiss, seeing you fight the devil and angel that were perked up on your shoulders. He knew he was mind fucking you, but he didn’t care, just as long as you stayed with him. “I’m the only person in this world, that knows your body better than you do.” he purred into your ear, laying you down onto the couch. “I’m the only one that can make you laugh…” he continued “who can get you so mad, you cry. Only I can make you scream…make you cum.”

★ Your heart is racing as you feel the hairs on your skin raise. A twinge of arousal shoots through your body, His breath was hot against your ear and he shifted more of his weight onto you. slotting a leg between your thighs, he felt the heat radiating from between them.

★ “You’re soaked…” he teased, condescendingly. “Only for me, huh?” He finished his point from earlier, aggressively pulling at your bottoms, before slipping his hand in, he began to play with your clit. Causing you to arch your back, and let out a moan.

★ “Johnny— stop!” You whimper, face flushed as your body reacts to his touch. “Stop? Stop what? This?” He asked knowingly, before burying his middle finger into you, feeling the cold silver of his ring on your heated skin, goosebumps begin to rise. His motion begins to quicken, in a matter of no time he inserts a second finger. Probing your cunt vigorously with a shit eating smirk. “That’s right~” he hums, attacking your neck with rough kisses and love bites. fucking you onto his digits, curling them just right as his thumb encircles your clit.

★ “Aha-f—fuck!” You moan out, throwing your head back as he continues his relentless assault on your soaked core. A guilty pleasure seeps into your body, relishing in the sick fact your lover would go to such extreme lengths for you…

★ Your brain was polluted with sweetened words. And his reasoning behind this whole incident suddenly seemed valid. “I love you.” Johnny says, his voice gruff. “Say it back.” He ordered, picking up the pace of his fingers. “I-I love you~” you whine out, feeling that familiar build up inside.

★ Your body trembles as you let out an exasperated breath. Johnny entrapped your mouth into another fiery kiss, repeating how much he loves you, thanking you for being so understanding about the ‘little bump in the road’. Your mind is blank as your hips buck, grinding against his ministrations, you let out small moans and whimpers. Feeling your self edging closer and closer.

★ He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, egging you on to cum. “come on, cum for me, cum for me baby~” With his encouragement, you were quick to release on his hand. Soaking it in the process. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Blinded by the high of your orgasm. Johnny trailed light kisses on your neck, infatuated with your flushed expression.

★ “Don’t even worry about this… I’ll have it taken care of, and everything’s gonna be just fine.” He tried to convince you through his loving kisses. Causing your breath to hitch in your throat, contemplating his words, you stifled a whimper as he nipped a sweet spot on your neck.

★“Please baby, please. Just trust me, I promise you’ll never see anything like it again…” Johnny whispers sweet nothings into your ear, keeping his fingers inside of you, harshly pumping them, unrelenting and overstimulating you. He wasn’t satisfied- not until you gave in completely.

★ “Fuck—okay—okay!” you blurt out, cunt feeling numb, begging him to please stop. “I-I trust you…just—please—“ He pulls his fingers from your dripping pussy, nerves buzzing through your entire body from the assertiveness of his actions. the corners of his mouth curl up into that familiar grin. Bringing his coated digits to his mouth, licking them clean, humming and savoring your taste. “Good girl.”

★ “Now how about you get your pretty little ass in the shower? I’ll get this all cleaned up, alright?” He asks, brushing your hair from your face, pressing his lips to your forehead before standing up from the couch. You simply nod before getting off of the couch yourself. Feeling a playful swat on your ass as you make your way to the shower. Thought process and morals tainted by lust.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat fandom #mk fandom #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x reader #yandere x reader #love sick #bruh I just wrote that

[eeveebitches]

balcony. || Roman Roy

Pairing: Roman Roy x F!Reader

Summary: You're Roman's sad assistant, Roman is your comforting boss. There's something unspoken, too.

Word count: 1.685

The harsh autumn wind bites at the skin exposed by your party dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It's times like these where you curse yourself for your 'the jacket ruins the outfit' mentality. Sure, the moment you wanna go home you can step into a cozy Uber. But this jacket-less lifestyle doesn't support emotional breakdowns on balconies.

You're not sure why you feel the way you do. Maybe it's just life-- too much and too little, constant scratching and clawing just to get out of bed. Or maybe it's this dress, and the fact it just doesn't look as good on you as it used to look. Maybe it's the fact that you're lonely, no matter how much time you spend with others.

"Are you thinking of killing yourself? Because that's, like, lame." Your head turns for some reason, as if it isn't immediately clear to you that it's Roman. "Only a little bit," you weakly chuckle out, turning back to look at the view. Small lights blinking from high to low, desperate to shine through the darkness.

Roman wordlessly walks to stand next to you, although he turns his back to the view. He leans on the old, marble railing, hands tucked in his pockets for only a moment before he pulls them out again.

He's clearly nervous. Emotions aren't on the forefront for him, and the dysfunction of his upbringing definitely hasn't made him capable of handling yours any time, either. But his hands clasp and unclasp, his eyes blink rapidly, and with a single sentence he dives into the deep end.

"So are you, uh, okay?"

Your breathing stills at the question. Suddenly the cold air blows into your eyes, and now suddenly it's making you tear up. Damn the cold air for making you look weak. "Yeah, I just... I don't know," you mumble out, carelessly wiping your eyes, any make-up you had on now smudged. From the corner of your sight you can see Roman's eyes widen. His head starts darting around, like he's searching for something in the air, as he hesitates in his next actions.

He takes a single step. A small one, for sure, but the step is to get closer to you. One leg over the other, and now his arm is touching yours. "D'you wanna... talk?" You shrug, still mindlessly staring out in front of you as Roman struggles to think of ways he can show he does care about your feelings, even if he wouldn't outwardly admit it.

"Wanna be my therapist?" You laugh bitterly as you say it, to which Roman cracks an uneasy smile. "Sounds like a fun time, maybe even a little hot. Doctor, patient, stuck in a room for way too long," he tells you, carrying a nonchalant grin.

As always, he makes you laugh. "And a therapy couch to have crazy monkey sex on. I'm into it." Roman's grin grows at that, teeth peeking out as he finally turns to look into the night as well. "Soooo, what, is the party so bad you're considering suicide?" You roll your eyes at him with a light smile, which he happily reciprocates. "You're on the right fuckin' path, though, since their wine tastes like the aftermath of a grape juice enema," he groans out, eyes squeezed shut in faux annoyance.

With each smile you give him, he feels more secure. Like his feet are properly tied onto the ground, instead of floating out into the empty cold of space. "I'm just sad is all, Romes. Not about the shit wine, though, I haven't even had any tonight."

"Seriously? I thought that guy from the app company sent you a drink. He wanted to get into your panties bad, you do know that, right?" He tries not to come over as jealous, since this is your moment of vulnerability, but you can tell he is by the way he runs a shaky hand through his hair. All you do is shrug in response. "Didn't accept it."

He cackles, which makes you smile. "You stone-cold bitch. Poor guy's gonna jerk himself off as he cries, and you show no mercy?"

Another shrug from you, and another laugh from him. His laughter dies down quickly when he sees the change in your expression. There's a quiet somberness to it. The kind that brought him back to his childhood, uniforms and broken mirrors. 

He hates that somberness on you.

"Seriously, what's up? You're all quiet and fuckin' depressed, it's giving me the heebie jeebies." Your head doesn't turn to Roman as you prepare to speak. You keep your eyes on the twinkling lights of the buildings far away from you. Twinkles of humans who are just as awake, and possibly just as solemn as you are. "It's these parties. They just kinda highlight my loneliness, it's... it's just a bit much tonight," you sigh out, head not moving an inch.

You don't bother looking at Roman's face. It's most definitely a melancholic one, eyes round and glassy with his eyebrows slightly knotted. "You have me," he mumbles out, and despite his weak attempt at making it sound humorous, you both know it fell flat. He's too desperate for you to acknowledge that for it to be funny.

"I know I do."

A silence falls between the two of you as you both stare out. Roman's arm is still flush against yours, a lick of heat that's so miniscule yet so warming to you. 

He's thinking of something, anything, to say to you. Something that'll comfort you like you always comfort him. But how can he copy the eye contact you make across a room, or the hug you always give him where you squeeze his shoulders extra tight? Nothing he could say could ever carry the nurture your perfume carries for him.

"You don't have to say anything, Romes, just... be here with me?"

Roman stills. His hands stop fiddling, and his eyes stop darting around, searching for an anchor point to help him stay ashore. He lets out a heavy sigh, before grabbing your hand and tugging you with him. "C'mon," he mumbles, not daring to look at your expression, "let's go home."

There's something far too domestic about how he texts his driver with one hand while the other one holds onto yours. Like you're not his underpaid assistant, or his closest friend, but instead his partner. Your mind floods with images of his apartment flooded with your things, and Sundays together in bed. 

The two of you weave through the crowd. Roman speaks for the both of you every time someone tries to speak to either of you, probably to ask why you're leaving so early. He simply throws a 'fuck off' their way as he continues leading you to the exit. 

The taxi is somehow already standing there. "Let's ditch this shitty granny orgy," he chuckles out. He's clearly just as nervous as you are about the implication of whatever is happening now, but he doesn't hesitate in sitting snugly against you in the car. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. A heavy sigh escapes you, the kind that felt like it had been in your lungs for years.

"Just so you know, I didn't do groceries." You huff out a small laugh. "I told you to start doing them though," you mumble against his shoulder. His head falls to lean against yours, digging his nose into your hair. "I know, I'm just really fucking stubborn, like, all the time," he mumbles back.

This makes you laugh a little harder. He laughs too, content in your proximity to him. It felt right, sharing body heat. The car stops, and as the two of you step out Roman grabs your hand again. He doesn't let go, not even when unlocking his door.

Your hands disconnect to let Roman remove and hang up his jacket. He scurries to his bedroom, leaving you to take in his apartment. You've been in it plenty of times, but never like this. Never in a way that made it feel like home.

Roman returns, already changed into a sweater and loose pants. He hands you some clothes, as well, head nudging you towards his bedroom. "It's all oversized, because my pecs are fucking huge and stretch my clothes out," he jokes, flexing his muscles as if he can't hear his blood flow in his ears.

With a sheepish grin you head to his bedroom and change. You try not to dwell on how constant Roman's scent now is, or how you're pretty sure he uses the same fabric softener as you. Instead, you call out his name, thoughtlessly throwing yourself into his bed.

He bites back a quip, and silently enters the bed to lay next to you. It's like there's no air in the room as you lay your head on his stomach, your arms carefully wrapping around his waist. Gently, he strokes your hair, other hand swung over you, keeping you as close as you can be.

Roman's body stiffens at the first sniffles. Your tears roll down your cheeks, but you don't let out any sobs. He pulls you up, and tightly wraps his arms around you. Only when your head is buried in Roman's shoulders, you let out a strangled cry. You convulse in Roman's hold, shivering despite the warmth he's giving you.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here," he whispers as he keeps his hold on you strong, lightly rocking from side to side. There's a lump in his throat as he listens to you gently weeping. You, out of all people, shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

As you quiet down, only letting out the occasional hiccup, Roman lightly pulls you to look at him. He cradles your face with his hands, shakily wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs as he tries to think of anything to say.

"If you need a salary raise, let me know."

A hoarse laugh escapes your throat. You smile through your tears, and Roman smiles back. 

"I think I'd like that."

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #roman #romulus roy #roman roy #female reader #succession fanfic #hbo succession

[sdr2lovemail]

I love the crewel and Crowley emberass reader but what would happen if it’s not them? What would happen if Trein, Sam, and Ashton found out? And act like overprotective uncle and grandpa. Please

Hi! Glad you enjoyed it. For this second part I've changed the pot just a little bit. I hope you enjoy!

[Gender Neutral MC]

Crowley attempts to halt your dating life by banding the staff together.

“Thank you all for joining me. I have called you to the staff room to discuss a topic of most importance.” Crowley spoke, rolling in a board covered with a cloth.

Crewel folds his arms against the mahogany table. “Are the police here again?” He sighs.

“Huh? No, not this time. It’s something so much worse.” The headmaster brought his hands close to his head. A sorrowful look crossed his face. “Oh, woe is me. It’s so terrible I could barely utter the words.”

An agitated mewl interrupts Crowley. “Yes, Lucius, I agree. Please move this along, Headmaster. Lucius is getting agitated.”

Clearing his throat, Crowley grips the cloth concealing the board. “Right, why I called you all here is to discuss,” The cloth drops. Covering the board was pictures of you and Azul, along with many lines of red string. “The Ramshackle prefect and Ashengrotto’s ongoing courting.”

Silence fills the room as the staff deadpan. 

Elegantly setting his hands into his lap, Crewel speaks up. “I thought we were over this, Dire. Mr. Ashengrotto has proved that he cares for the pup. Why bother anymore?” 

“Adding on, the personal lives of our students are none of our business. Parental feelings or not, the prefect is capable of making their own choices.” Trein spoke as he stroked his cat’s fur.

“Hmm, but if my darling child is running off with boys, who will do my paperwo-” Crowley cuts himself with a fake cough. “Excuse me. The prefect should focus on their studies and finding a way home. Dating should be the last of their concerns.” 

“I mean, the kid’s pretty wimpy, muscle-wise, though he seems to have a decent heart. Around them, he’s quite the gentleman. Which is saying something, ‘cause he goes to this school.” Vargas boasts.

Crowley lets out an angered huff. “That is clearly a facade. I know how Ashengrotto and his Leeches work. He obviously wants something from them.” He crossed his arms, much like an upset child.

From across the table, Sam lets out a boisterous laugh. “I would think the opposite. The little imp came to my shop flushed, asking for the “perfect gift.” My friends on the other side tell me how he’s fallen for them.” 

Shaking his head, Crowley taps his polished shoes against the marble floor. He lets out an overdramatic wail. “Oh! How terrible it would be if the prefect’s grades were to fall because of this. Letting a student slack on their work because of a boy, I would be ashamed as a staff member.”

Trien gave a pointed look. “What are you going on about?”

“A benevolent headmaster such as myself can’t let this slide. Oh, yes, I would be forced to cut a few paychecks. Perhaps even a Christmas bonus here and there.” He sighs, slyly gazing around the table.

The staff can’t do anything but glare at the headmaster.

The school bell rings, signifying the start of magic history class. Trein begins his lecture with his back to his students. Though, Lucius made sure to keep an eye on things.

A single sheet of lilac paper slips next to your arm. You looked next to you. Azul’s eyes are downward. If you look close enough, you’d be able to see a faint flush on his cheeks. The contents of the paper were a date proposal. While written like a contract, Azul had written small hearts around the note.

Before you unfold the paper, a hand takes it from your grasp. “Passing notes during class, Ashengrotto? How uncharacteristic of you. Come see me after school for detention.” Trein slips the paper into his pocket and walks back to his chalkboard. Azul grits his teeth as his blush grows darker.

Second-year students file onto the sports field. Being a magicless student, you had to pair up with someone for flight class. 

Taking long strides, Azul makes his way to where you are stretching. “Hello, darling. I hope you will allow me to accompany you in flight today.” He says with a charming smile.

“Of course, Azul. I was just about to ask if you could help me.” Grabbing a broom from the rack, you smile at the octopus.

Just as he was about to offer his arm, the loud voice of your coach cuts through. “Hate to burst your bubble…Not really. I had planned on setting the prefect up with Rosehearts.” 

Azul lets out a choked gasp before bringing back his composure. “Well, sir. I see no need as I’ve already offered.” He remarks while pushing his glasses up.

“If anyone needs a flight partner, it would be you, Ashengrotto. Your grades are terrible. In fact, I’ll give you extra credit right now. Drop and give me fifty.” Vargas smirks. “Prefect, go with Rosehearts and start the course.”

“But- I-!” Azul groans as he sees you slip away before him. He lets out a quiet curse before dropping into the pushup position. 

Azul was tired of how the teachers were acting. It was unprofessional of them to meddle in students’ personal affairs. He couldn’t help but feel suspicious of their behavior. The teachers never cared before. What made you so special to them?

Opening the door to Sam’s shop, Azul drags his feet as he heads for the snack shelf. If his advances were interrupted during class, just do something after. You were raving to him about some treat you bought from the mystery shop. His mother always told him that the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach.

Looking up at the shelf, his face pales as he sees it bare and empty. Azul walks to the counter where Sam is polishing his wares. “Excuse me. I was wondering if you have any more snacks in the back.”

“Ah, sorry little imp. We’re all sold out! They’re pretty popular during lunch.” Sam explains as he slid a box further underneath his counter. This action did not go unnoticed.

Letting out a sigh, Azul lets a solum look cover his face. “Aw, and to think, my darling was looking forward to one all day. How sad they will be when I tell them the news. If you could, please tell me when you get more in stock.” He turns to face the door, a hopeful smirk pulling at his lips.

Falling for his pity ploy, Sam calls out to him. “Wait! You’re in luck, little imp.” He ducks underneath the counter and pulls out a wrapped snack. “Seems like we had just one left. That’ll be 10 Madol.” 

“They’ll be delighted!” Azul slips the clerk a few bills. “Something is finally going my way, even after the teachers had been treating me so poorly.” He pouts, hoping to get more information.

It seems to have worked as Sam smiles at him. “Well, you could say a little birdy has been causing trouble if you catch my drift.” 

Azul’s eyes widen ever so slightly. “I see. Thank you, Mr. S. I’ll be going now.” He takes his shopping bag and begins to walk out the door.

“Don’t thank me. You could thank my friends on the other side.” Sam bids him a joyful farewell. “That’ll teach the little birdy about messing with my paycheck.” He laughs. 

Seated on the worn couch of Ramshackle, Azul leans into your side. “Ugh, Crowley’s still doing this? You’d think he’d stop after all this time. We’ve been together for months now.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry, darling. I’ve sent some very persuasive people in his direction.” Azul says as he curls into you further.

Crowley sits at his desk, organizing all the work he’ll dump on you. A knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts. “Come in!”

In walk the Leech brothers. Deceiving smiles adorn both their faces.

“Headmage, we have a few words to discuss with you regarding our dorm leader and the prefect.” Jade eloquently talks as Floyd locks the door with a chair.

Crowley’s face drops as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #azul x reader #x reader #self insert #dire crowley #divus crewel #twst sam #mozus trein #reader insert

[smninthisworldd]

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Adrenaline ; König x gn!reader ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

PAIRINGS AND WARNINGS: König x gn!reader(gender neutral terms, no mentions of reader’s gender identity), smut, nsfw, established relationship, dating, masturbating, male masturbating, phone sex, sexy pictures, desires, male orgasm & ejaculation,

first person POV (König’s POV)

MASTERLIST

The adrenaline rushed through my veins whenever I was on the battlefield, running through the field under me, chasing enemies and crushing their bones like it was nothing.

It was usual for me, towering over them and looking into their frightened eyes, before smashing their head or breaking their spine.

Nothing my partner, the dearest love of my life, was used to. Aware of my capabilities, of what I did in the battlefield, fear did not ever cross their feelings.

My thoughts would often go to them when I was on a mission, them being the reason I always returned home.

I soon was able to find a hidden spot in a building, away from the gunshot noises. I could still hear those, but the thought of my lover filled my mind to the point I wasn't concerned on my mission anymore. A little break wouldn't hurt anyone... right?

I unplugged my mic, I knew this was extremely unprofessional, and I knew the risks I was taking. I could've either been killed, caught or discharged. But I couldn't care less in that moment, as I thought about them, the adrenaline that mixed up with the knowing that after that mission I would go home, made my mind dizzy.

All I knew how to do was take off one of my gloves and pick up my phone. Two notifications popped on the lock screen, under the name 'Mein engel'. I immediately opened them, only to find a picture of my partner, and a provocative text message.

The picture they sent me was driving me crazy. Heart racing, pounding in my chest, my hand clutching around my phone, my eyes fixed on the picture. I began looking at the soft curves of their body, enhanced by the spicy lingerie they were wearing.

My lips parted, I breathed heavily, thinking about how their skin felt so soft under my fingertips, how their back arched for me, how good we were at making each other feel in paradise, and I couldn't help but feel my erection forming.

Especially because the text message they wrote was: "Waiting for you to come home, big boy". And they knew I loved the way those words slipped out of their mouth.

I chuckled and reached, with my bare hand, the button of my pants, undoing the zipper afterwards, too. I revealed my half-hardened member and my own touch caused goosebumps throughout my entire body.

And my mind raced to the moments me and them shared together, how I was able to pull moans and whimpers out of their lungs, shaky breaths of pleasure whenever I touched their intimacy, stimulated their sensitive spots, praised their body like it was a marble sculpture.

I grabbed my cock and started masturbating myself at the thought of how good their hand would've made me feel in that moment. My hand was cool and rough, the complete opposite to the soft one I was used to.

I leaned my head back, allowing myself to feel pleasure, despite duty calling. «Fuck..» I whispered, moving my hand on my shaft, feeling it harden with each slow movement.

Their picture still on my screen, I moaned as I looked down at it again. My chest was rising and falling quickly, my fingers tightened around my girth, causing my mouth to open slightly to let out some heavy breaths.

I tried my best to hold them back, but the thought of what awaited me back home was overwhelming, much more than the current environment I was in.

I felt my dick throb profusely in my hand, pulsing and twitching so hard, just at the thought of it. Savoring the feeling of rubbing my long, thick shaft slowly, imagining their body taking me in, pressed underneath me, filling their walls to the point their eyes rolled back.

Precum lubed my tip as I spread it around with my thumb, gently rubbing the slick up and down my length. Fuck, I needed this so badly.

It had been a long, rough week of training, work out and stress. I couldn't wait any longer, really. I knew I was risking my life, my career for this... but my needs came first in that moment.

I couldn't stop watching the picture, thinking about that lingerie, and how bad I wanted to rip it off their body. I wanted nothing more than to feel their body beneath mine, sweating, panting, needy. Our arousals and needs mixed together, dripping down their thighs.

«Oh Gott (oh God)...» I whispered, my ears were muffled, not allowing me to hear even my own voice well.

I bit my bottom lip and threw my head back against the wall, my grip tightened, I twisted my hand around my tip and all the way down, groaning at the loud sloppy sound that was coming out of all this.

I shivered and thrusted my fist up and down my cock over and over again, harder and faster. My arm began to ache, but I couldn't stop. I needed to cum, desperately. I hissed and whimpered subtly, my teeth digging into my bottom lip.

I was getting close, and involuntarily let out a loud whimper, my hips sliding downwards, my abs contracting and my grip on the phone tightening even more as I felt myself on the edge.

My mind clouded, full of thoughts about our hip bones grinding against each other, hitting perfect spots every single time we met. How their ankles would be pushed all the way back to their ears just to give me access to that pretty little tight hole down there, for me to stretch and fuck.

«Just like that... fuck..»

The marks we gave each other, hickies and love bites running down our bodies, starting from our necks and all the way down our thighs, both of us signed as each other's properties.

My arm was shaking, burning at the speed, meeting my crotch with every single push, creating a clapping sound against my skin. I grabbed a hanky in anticipation, luckily I thought, I always had some with me.

I chased my orgasm desperately, whining for it, my body spasming as I continued to masturbate on the edge of release. My hand moving faster, my grip feeling tighter around my pulsing dick, soaked and deeply stimulated as suddenly my climax hit me.

My muscles tightened, contracted, as I thrusted my cock as hard as I could into my fist. My eyes rolled back as cum leaked violently from my pulsing intimacy. My whimpers rang out desperately despite me trying to hold them back, to keep those to myself. I managed to cup my tip with the hanky, that was soon drenched, soaked in my juice.

Some of it dribbled down my length, as I continued to stroke myself slowing down but not quitting yet. My own warm cum felt heavenly on my pleading and sensitive dick now, which caused me to turn my head to the side against the wall, heavy breathing again, overstimulating myself into another orgasm, chasing it.

«Yes, just like that... oh fuck..»

The sloppy, wet sound of my cock was obscene as my second orgasm had me biting my lips harder, my brows knitted together, my legs shaking. My hand was completely soaked in my pleasure, my need, my desperation. I had to grab another hanky to finally clean myself off when I slowed down to a stop.

I continued to lay there, breathless and dazed. My phone buzzed on the solid concrete underneath me, where it fell due to my multiple spasms.

"Hope I didn't distract you, my love."

~ smninthisworldd ; please do not copy.

#konig #konig smut #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x y/n #konig modern warfare #konig fic #sub konig #konig fanfiction #könig my beloved #könig cod #könig x reader #colonel könig #könig x you #könig smut #smut fanfiction #smut smut smut #smut warning #smut imagine #smut #cod smut #smut writing #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #also on ao3 #cod mwii

[middle-name-queer]

A great thing about the good place is how all four of the main crew are actually self-centered

We commonly identify forms of self-centered behavior such as selfishness that is exemplified by Elenor. (aka "a Bad Person"), but then you have Chidi and Tehani. These two are far less classical in their self-centered behavior but are still self-centered, nevertheless.

The show makes Tehani's folly pretty clear, despite all her philanthropic acts she still centers herself in every situation. How she ended up there is actually parallel to Elenor's upbringing, the only real difference is the glitz and the glamour. They both had parents that were withholding for one reason or another, neither felt seen nor wanted and so one shut down to protect herself, the other made her entire existence a performance, either way they are deeply, deeply self-centered people.

But Chidi is my favorite, for the obvious reason that his self-centered behavior is the least obvious. Now of course it's made pretty clear to us as viewers but as a character within the world, for nearly all situations most people would judge Chidi as a good (albeit, sometimes annoying) person. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who would out right call him self-centered... yet he is!

Chidi acts as though the world rests squarely on his shoulders, that each little choice he makes carries the weight to change the trajectory of humanity. Putting this into words pretty clearly illustrates the ridiculousness of it. It simply isn't reality, and it shows how, even though Chidi is a "good person" (vs Elenor and Jason) he is still susceptible to the very human condition of not looking past yourself. Another way to state it (as I'm sure many have before) he basically suffers from thinking he's a main character. (lol) Now, lucky for him he actually is one but translating this to real life you can see how people fall prey to this way of thinking, convoluting their lives due to the faulty belief that they, and they alone, can make or break the world around them.

This rolls around my brain like a marble because, I did this! For an embarrassingly long time in my youth, I truly felt the grief and horror that comes with thinking you, and you alone, can fix the world's problems. And I think this sort of thing isn't talked about enough because there isn't an obvious red flag of being a "bad person". Chidi is "good" and so there is a smoke screen effect hiding how poor his behavior actually is. (Can you tell I deeply identify with his character? 🤔)

Jason is an interesting case in his own right, because he's self-centered almost in the same way as a small child. I assume Donkey Doug was simply unequipped to help Jason develop past that stage in his upbringing, in tandem with say... other lifestyle choices, Jason's overall mental development is limited. He's an interesting example of how not all self-centered behavior is motivated by innate "selfishness". Jason is very much capable of empathy, generosity, and comradery, as shown by his relationship to Janet, lifelong friendships, and his participation and organization of a 60-person dance crew. This is in opposition to Elenor, a selfishly self-centered person who could not form meaningful or lasting relationships.

Jason Mendoza's behavior is more of a big kid who acts on impulse, this can obviously be perceived as "hurtful" and when done by a grown adult it may be judged as "he's a bad person". But when looking at his overall character it's clear that he doesn't make a single move with any ill intent or malice. You can easily reason with him in nearly all situations, even when he chooses to throw a molotov at a train, all it takes is grabbing him by the arm and telling him to knock it off. He doesn't argue or get defensive, unlike versions of Elenor who would tell you to "go fork yourself". Jason is only self-centered because he struggles to see the big picture, but when it's shown to him, more often than not he accepts it with a little guidance.

I have no end point here other than watching these characters exude self-centeredness in four distinctly different ways, only to then learn and better themselves, is a delight!

#tgp #the good place #tgp spoilers #not really but whatever #damn i didn't even talk about micheal #whatever maybe later

[milleneumfulcrum]

Cities In Dust

written with the consultation of our queen @sanzosin <3 to whom i must apologise to because this took FOREVER to write thanks to work and class

this work is cross-posted on A03 as usual

Pairing | Handsome Jack x Nisha Kadam

Word Count | 3,353

Warnings | slightly NSFW, also jack and nisha are just like That

Nisha remembered the way the train had blown in, dusting umber hair across her eyes. It was no ordinary cargo transport, built instead to hold people, not Eridium. The Hyperion livery indicated this particular person must be special indeed. 

Jack came with all the fanfare and splendor he demanded, followed by what she deemed as an unnecessary number of Loaders. Did he think she'd let something happen to him- in her town of all places? Nisha rolled her eyes, twin spheres of molten gold. 

"Heya, pumpkin," Jack grinned, enunciating each syllable. "Didja get my gift?"

The gift in question had been delivered early, around the time Nisha roused from bed. Jack was a frivolous bastard, and she'd expected another piss-yellow brassiere, or perhaps another ridiculous Hyperion rifle. Her surprise had been an uncomfortable blow when she opened it to find deep purple silk instead, a two-piece set that flattered her tanned skin. Damn.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Nisha snipped, ignoring Jack's query. His smirk didn't falter; bastard probably knew she was wearing his gift underneath.

"Oh, I was in the area, and, well, yanno..." He waved his hands impatiently, stepping down from the platform languidly. "Thought I'd pick you up for our date tonight."

Make that a presumptuous bastard.

"That's not how you ask, cowboy." Nisha's gaze was sharp. "That doesn't work-"

"Nish," Jack cut her off, and that alone should've made her furious... but there was something indecipherable in his eyes, even through the lifelike mask, that intrigued her. "Come back with me tonight." He paused, looking troubled that he even had to ask. "I, ah, wanna see what it looks like on you."

He'd been strange ever since Angel died. The Jack she knew never would've stepped foot in her dusty town without good reason; now, here he was, albeit surrounded by monstrous-looking robots, demanding her presence. 

The Nisha she knew would've told him to stuff it. 

Instead, she glanced up at him in a gust of wind, raising her right arm to block the sun. The light flashed off her armguard- Hyperion yellow.

Jack seemed to understand he'd succeeded, and Nisha resented the flash of surprise that crossed his eyes as she stepped up onto the platform. Her fingers found his wrist, nails digging into the flesh she'd claimed. He winced; a small victory.

"You'd better make it worth my while," Nisha hissed, her voice low. Her defense was venom. 

She needn't have threatened. As soon as they'd breached his grandiose quarters on Helios, Jack had been wild, pulsing with need beneath her. The marks down her arms- scratches, as he'd gripped at her- were made by a man possessed.

"Nish," Jack panted, letting out a low groan. She'd pinned him to the mattress, her fingers twining cruelly around his throat. "I wish you'd stay here. You could- friggin' hell- be my sexy secretary."

Her hold tightened, and he retaliated by bruising her hips in his grip. Nisha's eyes were shards of yellow gold, her lipstick smeared just at the edge of her mouth. 

"Secretary? Don't insult me."

She'd woken up pleasantly sore in his silken sheets. Sore and alone, wrapped in Jack's dingy yellow sweater. 

Nisha scrubbed at her eyes with a faded sleeve, her other hand inching across the mattress to Jack's side. She found the pillows cold, swearing under her breath. He should not have the capability to leave like that- not without waking her. But he couldn't be far. 

A silver-blue glow outlined the door. Nisha's feet carried her over the marble flooring; without her boots and chains, she was silent beneath the white noise of Helios. Jack didn't notice as she swept into his office, hidden in the shadows. His face was lit with the same pale blue light, and she was almost offended to see his mask had been slotted back into place. Whatever he was staring at so intently required two working eyes, apparently. 

"Well, sorry I bored you," Nisha declared flatly. Jack startled so hard that his wrist banged on the underside of the desk. 

"Nisha," He began, but she cut him off with a piercing look. Something tugged her gaze to his screens- a flash of familiarity, dust kicked up in the night- and she froze.

Death-Row Refinery, the camera feed read. Nisha barely recognized the smoldering ruins. 

"Jack," She began. Her voice was dangerously low. "What happened in Lynchwood?"

If he answered, she wasn't coherent enough to listen. This wasn't the work of just any bandit; this smoking husk was the product of those ludicrous Vault Hunters, no doubt seeking revenge for Roland's death and Lilith's capture. And Jack- somehow he'd known. Somehow, he'd lured her away to the oppressive security of his space station, like she was some fragile little woman. 

Nisha saw red. 

Her open palm cracked across Jack's synthetic mask. The contact smarted, much more so than if it had been his real skin, but she was too far gone to notice. This was betrayal. 

"You-" Nisha struggled for words. "-you skag fucking bastard! I oughta kill you!"

Jack's expression was unreadable, and that made her blood turn to steam. How dare he refuse to even flinch before her? How dare he-

"We are going down there," Nisha spat through gritted teeth. "Right now. And you'd better hope those Vault Hunters are still there, because if they aren't- well, someone is dying tonight."

Jack didn't resist when she hauled him to his feet. A little, "Hunh," escaped his lips, but he was otherwise silent as Nisha dressed in a fury. She was electric, like a storm, and they touched down in Lynchwood with the force of a typhoon. The Vault Hunters were long gone, leaving a trail of broken yellow bots in their wake. 

"Cowards," Nisha muttered. Jack looked strange like this, a rifle slung over his shoulder, barely illuminated in the pale dawn. The rest of the town was mostly untouched, but she could smell the smoke from the refinery. The air was thick with it.

There was a body outside of the station; Nisha recognized it as Winger immediately, with his ridiculously oversized coat. She hardly spared him a glance as she stepped inside, whistling low under her breath. Destruction reared its ugly face again.

"They were looking for me," Nisha remarked, turning to face Jack. Her initial eruption of anger had cooled, leaving behind an icy middle ground between respect for the Vault Hunters' boldness and contempt for her boyfriend's antics. "Maybe I can lure 'em back. Finish the job."

Jack twitched.

Nisha emerged from the station in a blaze of gold. The sun was rising, filtered through hazy smoke. She didn't need to follow the ashy trail to find the source; Death-Row Refinery looked like it had been carved open in one grand explosion, perhaps with the help of a maniac like Torgue. It was no doubt a last-ditch attempt by the Vault Hunters to stem the flow of Eridium to Hyperion- they couldn't have known just how close Jack was to charging the key. How Lilith was stronger than Angel had ever been. 

"If I was here, none of this would've happened," Nisha hissed, rounding on Jack. He hadn't said a word since they'd landed, his mask an untouched mantra of stony silence. "My town is a smoking fucking husk, and your biggest producer of Eridium is outta commission. No, screw your refinery. God, if those ratches took the shit from my fucking room- I left my sniper here, Jack. Armor-piercing Jakobs! Do you know how long it took me to-"

"The gun doesn't fucking matter, Nisha!"

Jack was wild, more so than she had ever seen before. He met her pace for pace until his palms were on her shoulders, shaking her like she was the idiot. 

"Look at this town," He snarled, pointing one long finger at the destruction behind them. "Look at it, Nish! Look what they did. You'd be just another fucking body in the dust- and I told you, when you join Hyperion- no, no, no- when you join me, there's no way out. No fucking quitting."

His grip was bruising; Nisha was mesmerized.

"Do you see how many Loaders I sent down here?" Jack continued, frenzied. Nisha looked at him like he was rabid. "They're all scrap now, and I- and I had- I actually had time to prepare for this, Nisha- not like- like-"

His voice broke, stuttering to a ghastly halt. Nisha went rigid in the silence that stretched between, her expression thunderous. She didn't know how to temper her storm to a drizzle- not even now. 

"I can take care of myself," Nisha sizzled, like lightning. She couldn't quite bring herself to shake Jack's hands off her shoulders, even when his grip turned bruising. "I don't need a hero- if you're gonna... gonna be like this, you can fuck right off back to Helios."

She wrenched him off then, stepping back in the dust. His eyes flashed with something indescribable, but Nisha didn't stick around to decipher it, turning on her heel. Her boots clicked against rock and rubble, then concrete as she approached the main strip. She could hear footsteps behind her- Jack's footsteps- but didn't so much as glance back. 

Nisha's place was in a quiet corner of town, blended in with the half-abandoned ramshackle structures. She'd wanted it over the sheriff's station, when the town was first sanctioned in her name, but Jack had convinced her otherwise. It was too obvious- too easy. Reluctantly, Nisha had agreed to an unassuming building on the outskirts of town, one that ensured privacy- and a long walk to work. 

Inside, Jack had spared no expense. Hyperion technology was built into every corner, complete with sleek flooring and furniture. It was completely untouched, and when she vaulted up the stairs, entering her bedroom, her sniper was exactly where she'd left it. Only then did she turn, finding Jack lingering in the doorway. He should've looked smug- his precautions had worked, after all. His countenance was haunted instead.

Nisha moved to fidget with her hat, unsure of what to say, when she caught a glimpse of her Hyperion-yellow armguard again. Another plate of armor encased her right boot, all the way down to the heel. Even her damn badge was Hyperion; almost gold, with a little white stripe down the bottom. 

"Well," She began uncertainly. This had never been her expertise. "They didn't get my gun."

A choked noise escaped Jack's lips, half laugh and half whine. He jerked forwards and they both went tumbling down into her sheets, her fingers winding through his hair as Jack's hands found her waist. She didn't stop him as he buried his face in the hollow where her throat and shoulders met, shivering in satisfaction as his teeth scraped her skin.

"Nish," Jack shuddered. 

She tugged on his hair in response. "That all you got, cowboy?"

Her hands fell from his crown to cradle his jaw for a moment, then Nisha was slipping the coat from Jack's shoulders. His watch clattered to the floor as she dipped her fingers underneath his annoying yellow sweater; they'd both dressed in a hurry, forgoing layers for time. 

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven, you know," Nisha hissed, the hand in his hair slipping low, her fingers resting on the back of his neck. Jack muttered something unintelligible into her breasts, fighting with the hem of her shirt as she hooked her heels into his shoes and pulled them off. "You don't deserve-"

"Nisha," Jack whined, and the last of her resolve crumbled. She threw a leg over his side, hooking Jack's body to hers, and flipped his back into the mattress. Nisha followed quickly, straddling his hips as her hands slipped under that damned yellow sweater. His skin was burning beneath her calloused fingertips, as she traced every ridge and scar with practiced, blind expertise. Jack moaned, long and low, only coming to a stuttering halt when Nisha thumbed the edge of his mask.

"Off," She ordered. It came off with a soft click, guided to the sanctity of her nightstand by Jack's broad fingers. Nisha didn't waste a moment, pressing rough, bruising kisses from his neck to the corner of his lips. She was softer as she brushed over his scar, tracing the edges of Jack's roughened skin. "They're gonna die, babe. Screaming."

Nisha never claimed to be good with words- this being no exception. But... Jack's hips bucked upwards in response, another strangled noise escaping his throat, and she felt emboldened enough to continue. 

"They're not getting off without learning who the boss around here is," She hissed. Her pretty speech was starting to get to her almost as much as it was striking Jack; her hands ached for her whip, just to strangle each and every one of those bastards who dared oppose Jack. If they hadn't needed Lilith so much, Nisha maintained a long list of things to try- a list she'd been compiling since Elpis. She settled for grabbing a fistful of Jack's hair and tugging, relishing in the long, low groan of pleasure it ripped from him.

"Fuck, Nish," Jack huffed, squirming against her as she forced his head back. "Watch it, will ya?"

Nisha ducked low in one smooth movement, like a creature of the water, and sank her teeth into Jack's exposed throat. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but when she pulled back, a perfect little indented oval remained. Jack was quick to tear her shirt off, then, and the rest of their clothes vanished in a tangle of limbs. Her nails dragged along his exposed chest, leaving little red trails parallel to his faded scars.

"I don't care how- god, fuck- how pissed you are," Jack snarled. His fingers gripped her caramel hips with enough force to bruise. "I'm not letting your overconfidence kill you. I told you, there's no w-way out once you're in."

Nisha's eyes flashed molten gold, like she could scorch him with her gaze alone. 

"Can't stop playing the hero, can you?" She sighed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Someone ought to humble you."

But in the back of her mind, where rational thought was often crammed away, Nisha knew Jack was right. The Loaders he'd thrown at the Vault Hunters could've leveled a city, and still, they managed to burn him where it hurt most- his daughter. And while the Lawbringer wasn't one to just keel over and die... well, she didn't want to think about that now. Her mouth had found Jack's inner thigh, her breath hot on his skin. His earlier grandeur was fading fast.

"You'd miss me, wouldn't you," Nisha sighed, lips parted. Jack's fingers were in her hair again, tugging rather weakly. "You make such a big show of protecting what's yours or some bullshit, but you're just selfish."

"M'not selfish," Jack whined. "Can't you just thank me for saving your frigging life?"

"Aren't I?"

She thanked him in the only way she knew how, her fingers trailing uninterrupted down the long length of his wiry chest. When her hands met his waist, Nisha hoisted herself back up, ignoring the way Jack's lips twisted into a scowling pout. His noise of protest quickly dissolved into a stuttering moan as she fit her hips to his, feeling strangely merciful. For once, Nisha didn't want to draw this out. 

Jack released a slew of curses when she finally started to move, his fingers finding an iron grip on her waist. There were little words between them, no barbs of playful spite or authority as Nisha splayed her fingers over his chest, his skin searing beneath her touch. She bent low again, her lips trailing the length of his throat as she sucked and bit bruises down his collarbone. It didn't take long for Jack's rhythm to falter, his hips thrusting erratically.

"Nish," He uttered, his voice breaking roughly. "Nish, I'm so fucking close, I... shiiiiiiit, Nisha-"

He might as well have wiped her mind clean, then, in that moment. Lynchwood, the Vault Hunters, her golden star- it all melted away as Jack pleaded for release below her scar-crossed thighs. She'd be a fool to think she could control the world around her, but Jack? He was hers, even if he didn't understand. 

Wordlessly, Nisha egged him on, her nails digging in and scraping parallel to Jack's faded scars. She was bent still, almost flattened against him as she sucked another dark bruise in the hollow where his throat and shoulders met. This was where she wanted to be. This was her domain- her territory.

And... Jack was waiting for her. His hips had gone rigid, his eye burning with the cold blue fire of restraint. He thought this was a punishment.

"Jack," Nisha almost laughed, her breath soft as a whisper of wind through thick green boughs. "Jack, move."

The moan that escaped Jack's lips was inhuman. His hips stuttered back to life like some ancient machine, so weary and broken that it barely remembered how to chug forward. She could barely hold him down as he bucked up once, twice, and then-

Jack's body went limp against her deep silken sheets, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. Nisha could feel the snapping of the coil, the breaking of the wire, as he finally released. Jack was quiet for a long moment, longer than she'd ever seen, as she wound her slender arms around his torso and eased herself down to his side. His chest rose and fell with sharp, rapid breaths, but he welcomed her into his arms, closing his eyes as his nose met her warm skin.

"Hey," Nisha uttered after a long moment, surprising herself with the softness of her voice. "You falling asleep, cowboy? We have to get goin'."

Jack's good eye fluttered open blearily.

"Hunh?"

With a stifled laugh, Nisha brought her hand to his forehead, combing back his sex-wild hair. His forehead was damp with sweat, and she imagined she was probably in a similar state. 

"I mean, Jack," She began, sucking a whistling breath in through her teeth. "Let's get the hell out of this wreck. I got what I came for-" Nisha motioned to the discarded sniper. "-and the rest can go to hell, for all I care. Those fucking Vault Hunters aren't even worth the trouble, really. It'll be much more fun to see your Warrior beat them to a bloody pulp- maybe we can make them watch as I sweep Sanctuary first. That lawless dump could use me."

She glanced down as she finished, her nose scrunching in contempt, only to meet Jack's reverent gaze. He looked at Nisha like he was seeing her for the first time all over again, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted. 

"You-" His voice broke, hoarse from their earlier exertion. "-you wanna go back to Helios?" 

Nisha merely shrugged.

A myriad of emotions flickered over Jack's scarred face, and for a moment, he looked lost. Nisha nearly backpedaled at the sight- and then his countenance exploded in a surge of charismatic confidence. His lips twisted into a sharp smirk, the fingers that had been limp at her waist suddenly alive and bruising again. Jack's gaze was nearly manic in his passion, and his mouth crashed against hers in a devouring, possessive kiss. Nisha barely had time to battle for dominance before he had pulled away, breathless and grinning. There was something wildly unstable buried in Jack's expression, and Nisha found herself tingling with molten excitement.

"We're going to wipe those bandit bastards off the face of Pandora," He hissed, his voice dangerously low. If it wasn't for the wild grin on his lips, she'd think he was seething. "I told ya, Nish. And we're gonna do it together."

She didn't respond. There was no need to reaffirm her pledge, to sink her loyalty in like the driving of a stake. For once, Jack had unquestionable loyalty. 

Nisha grabbed his mask, turning it in her fingers, and clicked it back into place.

#jack x nisha #handsome jack x nisha kadam #handsome jack #nisha kadam #nisha the lawbringer #borderlands 2 #jacknisha #borderlands

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Henry wants to move away from the city and surprises you with a country house …

Surprise get away - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Precious anonymous, I hope you enjoy Henry's modest get away plan.

Henry disappears for weeks, only for him to come back with a surprise.

Henry as a lover is not particularly affectionate. He doesn’t suffocate me with besotted compliments and gentle touches. The space he allows me is welcomed with much gratitude, however, this doesn’t mean I do not enjoy the occasional in-bed morning kisses under Apollon’s playful, morning rays, the hours spent in the comforting silence of each other’s presence, or the way his hand finds its way around my waist or on my thigh so stealthily that I only notice it when the familiar warmth seeps through my clothes and into my skin as if it is the very fuel my body runs on.

Lately, he’s been somewhat more distant than usual. I have not talked or heard from him outside our almost everyday classes with Julian for weeks. The other day I even dropped by his apartment only to be greeted by scattered advertisements, cut-out mail, papers with phone numbers, and announcements ripped out of newspapers all revolving around extravagant countryside houses with imposing, marble columns, vast fairytale-like green gardens, and enough rooms to fit a family of ten. I couldn’t figure out why Henry was looking into houses, but something must have happened otherwise he wouldn’t want to go so far away from Hampden, from Julian, from me.

I am wasting my time worrying about him when I should be writing my assignment. He is more than capable of taking care of himself and I trust that if the situation calls for it he will ask for my help. Just as I pick up my fountain pen to finally start the long-overdue translation of the first few books from the Aeneid I hear the sound of the key turning in my door’s lock. The only one with a copy of my dorm key is Henry. 

‘Where have you been?’ I inquire just as he graciously walks in as if he hasn’t been absent for the past days.

‘Get dressed.’ He orders with no care about what I’m doing whatsoever.

‘I’m working on my assignment.’ I point out sharply. ‘You cannot demand me to get dressed without telling me what you have planned.’

‘I assure you, you will not be displeased.’

Moments later, I’m sat in the passenger’s seat watching humans, shops, and houses blur into moving, indecipherable colours as Henry drives us out of Vermont towards Demeter’s neverending golden plains and dense forests. 

‘I consider it unfair when you use my curiosity against me.’ I sigh, rolling down the window to vent out the smoke from the cigarette I just lit. 

‘It is a great disadvantage which the comfort of love drags after itself.’ Henry half-smirks at me, his blue eyes behind the glasses abnormally warm.

‘And what may this terrible disadvantage be?’ I hold my cigarette to his lips and he takes a long drag from it before I bring it back to mine.

‘The mortifying ordeal of being known.’ The smoke escapes his lungs with every syllable he pronounces and I find it utterly entrancing.

.

.

.

.

.

Henry’s faint voice swirls in my mind, disturbing the unconscious state in which I am. Even in sleep, I can distinguish his precious voice from any other external sounds. He whispers my name and it hits my mind’s walls echoing until I wake up.

‘We have arrived.’ He announces with a slight smile and helps me step out of the car.

It takes me a moment to realise the massive manor towering over me with its aged stone walls covered in wicked ivy, large, arched windows with intricate tracery that allow glimpses into the stately interiors and prominent towers crowned with finials and spires piercing the limitless sky. Two watchful statues stand by the grand wooden doors as if anticipating our arrival. Suddenly, it all clicks together and I glare at Henry.

‘Is this why you’ve barely spoken to me in weeks?’ He was already retrieving his luggage along with another one he had packed for me using the various pieces of clothing I had left at his apartment throughout our relationship. ‘I can’t believe this..’ I shake my head and cross my arms, staring at the incredible purchase, knowing that it probably cost him a fortune. 

‘Let us enjoy this.’ He comes to stand by my side, suitcases in hand. ‘I have already spoken with Julian. I told him we would not be attending classes for a few weeks due to personal matters. Naturally, he wasn’t very pleased, but there is nothing he can do.’

‘Henry Marchbanks Winter skipping classes? I did not think I would live to see this day.’ It is nice to tease him once in a while.

‘I needed a break from society. Everyone does after a while and this place is perfect for such an occasion.’ For once, he looks relaxed and I decide to do as he wishes for the time being.

‘Why bring me here then? Wouldn’t it be better if you were to be alone here with your studies?’ 

Henry looks at me as if he has not been expecting the question and bursts into genuine laughter. ‘And leave my only piece of sanity in Vermont? That is something I couldn’t even dream of.’ He starts guiding me toward the entrance, his hand once again finding its rightful place on my waist.

#donna tartt #the secret history #tsh #dark academia #henry marchbanks winter #henry winter #reader x henry winter #henry winter fanfic #henry winter x reader #tsh fanfic #tsh donna tartt #the secret history fanfic #the secret history fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #x reader #academia aesthetic #dark academia fanfiction #dark academia fanfic #julian morrow

[candiedspit]

GRB 080319B 

For a month, I was a smudge. 

A mute monk in the bathtub, lukewarm water running as dull colors rolled around my head like fractured, aged marbles. Thoughts lost strength before fruition. I called out of work once a week, faked a cough, a car accident, another funeral. When I did make the drive out to the office, I spent most of the time typing a word, deleting the word, and typing the word again. I stopped taking calls. Mary left me beautiful voice messages. I listened to them while I laid on the couch, sprawled out like an active disease, furious tears streaming down my face. I knew it was stupid. A feeling cannot kill you. But then, I was being diminished. I was receding. 

I know you don’t feel well right now. But listen, I have these neighbors who still have their Christmas lights hanging up. It’s April. I sorta hope they leave them up all year round. 

I stayed frozen for a few weeks. 

Vitamin D and herbal teas, coffee and long novels. But then, I can’t explain it. It was Friday afternoon. Just a Friday afternoon. 

It began when I left the office. A slow bloom rose throughout my entire body. 

I noticed how all the buildings stood scraping against the most gorgeous, thin blue of the dying afternoon, rising evening. The wind felt kind. I didn’t go home. I went to the supermarket and held an orange in my hand, feeling the small indents with my thumbs, smelling the bright zest. It was as though everything was real again. That night, I bought a pack of cigarettes. I hadn’t smoked since I was nineteen. But I inhaled and let out a giant laugh at how lightheaded I felt, I walked through the streets like that, laughing and laughing, the laughter like the magician’s scarf being pulled out and out. It was a fantastic feeling. I felt fearless. As though I could scoop the fear and pain and shit out of myself like a pudding. I had capabilities. 

When I got home, I rushed in and had a shot of blueberry vodka and opened the windows and called Mary; she answered within a couple of rings. That gorgeous rodeo clown. I loved her as much as I loved anything. 

I never thought I’d hear your voice again, she said. But this worries me, y’know. How blue was the sky today?

I’m coming to see you, I said. Not tonight. But soon. I’ll stumble on your porch like a speedball. The sky was fantastic. I’m smoking.

Hm, she said. Listen, stay out of trouble. A feeling cannot kill you. I’ll save some tea for you. Come anytime. Come anytime. 

I couldn’t sleep. I played the same image in my mind, again and again. And words fizzed in and out too quickly for me to catch them. A church of nukes. Do you understand what you are signing? Perfume made of whale semen. Dominoes. 

In the morning, I could feel the angels looking over me. I imagined them like teenagers, shooting the shit, smoking and coughing and pointing. I spent the weekend in bars, meeting everyone on earth. A woman with a strong russian accent who told me the world was going down the toilet and we were all there for the ride. A man who asked me for three cigarettes and then told me he had coke if I wanted some. I spread a little on my gums. But it was a fifteen minute headache, it had nothing on the feeling within me, the glow which propelled and drove me around. I fucked the russian woman. 

I called out of work for the week, claimed I’d contracted HIV and needed time to grieve. I felt awful about the lie. It was ridiculous. But anything could happen. And I wasn’t wasting my time at a computer when I could see patterns in the streets. I wore a long, leather coat and wrapped it around my waist. And beneath, a black thong strung across my hips. I felt like a machine, I felt electric as I walked through the advertisement pus of Times Square, a cigarette beneath my teeth. I rode the trains for hours, befriending the other passengers. And for a moment, I forgot my address. It was nine in the morning. It was the middle of the night. I got nervous anytime I saw a police officer; there was a criminal in my heart. What was I doing? 

I went down to the village to visit Mary as promised. I felt breathless, sensitive to light. I was tired. It’d been years since sleep. I felt as though I was dying. A star exploding in reverse. Mary would know what to do. 

I knocked on her door and she answered as quick as she answered the phone. I smelled her vanilla scent. It made me nauseous. But I was so glad to see her; so glad she was there. I dated Mary for eight years. There was nobody on earth who knew me better than she did. 

You don’t look great, she said. Are you eating?

Not really, I told her as i walked into her apartment. I feel like I need a touch up. My engine is black. I’m running out of oil. I think I lost my job. I don’t know what day it is. 

It’s Saturday, she said. Three in the afternoon. It’s May and spring is here. Have a seat. 

I sat on her couch. 

I think I’ve been hexed, I said. A spell has been put on me. A poison. 

You’ve been here before, she said. Remember? That arrest in Ohio? Disturbing the peace? And the outburst in the museum. Banned from the gas station. A wild iris in your eyes. A desire for mountains. The call is coming from inside the house, Adam.

Mary gave me a cherry tart. I ate half of it and began to weep. Mary gave me a sleeping tablet. And when I woke up, I was horrified. 

When I got home, Mary had left me a voicemail. I laid down naked on the floor and listened. 

You’re a wife with cold feet. Shivering in the dressing room. You’re an astronaut grazing the face of the moon, blind to the wars on earth. You’re brave. You’re pathetic. You go to the amusement park to weep. You walk out onto the avenue to dance. You sneak into a club. And you feel nothing when the band plays, the gilded brass and vulgar scatting. 

And maybe you deserve it. 

#my poetry #Fiction

[cyb3rscoups]

How Many Drinks?

Had to sit back and reflect after writing this...

Explicit themes and scenerios ahead..MDNI 18+

Other Song Prompts Here

Recently divorced Okoye was truly a sight to behold. All memories of W’Kabi had been burned and discarded and Okoye was starting a new life.

Surprisingly, It didn’t take much to convince her to come out for drinks with Nakia and Ayo. Within her third shot, she was hopping her self over to the dance floor as the tension floated away from her body.

No more cheating man. No more self doubt. Okoye was a free woman and she was perfectly happy, eh, almost. During the months in which her marriage had been failing, her sexual desires fell intensely short of satisfied and the pent up frustration was starting to turn her into a hormonal monster.

It only took her one scan of the area to lock eyes with her target; a big burly Attuma who already had his eyes glued to her hips as they swayed to the beat of the song blaring through the club.

She pulled him against her to dance and they fell into rhythm instantly. She felt him harden against her as she shamelessly ground her drunken self to his own.

"What's the occasion?" Attuma tucked his lips to the shell of her ear so he wouldn't have to yell over the bass. His hands were already wandering, subtly tugging her dress up her thighs with every roll of her hips.

Okoye chuckled. "My divorce."

"What man would ever want to leave you?" He growled, sending a shiver down her spine and a warm sensation to her belly.

"A stupid one." She reached her hand up to run across his chin and tangle in his curls, giving them a tug. "Are you a stupid man?"

"Hardly. Just tell me what you need baby."

"I need..." Suddenly, words were hard to form as his scent invaded her nostrils and his hands felt like fire across her clothing covered skin. She was hot, burning almost. Burning for this man and whatever he kept in his pants. "Oh my god!" She gasped, pulling his face closer to hers until there was no room for anything else between them.

Skin to skin, cheek to cheek. He could fuck her right on the floor if she gave the go ahead. "Tell me.." He urged her. "Want me to sneak in the bathroom and bend you over the sink or what?"

"Yes!" Okoye replied, too enthused for any interpretation. That was all he needed before he was pulling her off and into the dingy restroom vacant of any other club goers. Lucky them.

He turned the lock to the door and started tugging on his belt, the metallic clink making her want to drop to her knees and take him like that instead.

"Fuck." Okoye whined, pulling her dress up and sliding her panties down before she bent perfectly over the sinks like he'd suggested earlier.

"So pretty, aren't you?" Attuma cracked a palm against her ass, moaning out at the recoil as he tugged his jeans down.

"Yes..keep talking like that.." She pleaded, her smile beaming through the mirror.

"Oh? Want me to call you a good girl or treat you like a slut?"

"Mmmm both."

Attuma laughed as he approached her and spread her ass apart to get a view of the soaked cunt clenching around nothing. "I don't have a condom."

"Who gives a shit! Just put it in!" Her words turned into a hoarse squeak as he began to push his length through her.

"Watch your mouth when you're with me alright?"

"Oohh ooh yes!" Her chest slumped against the marble counter as he bottomed out inside of her pussy. The untouched craving in her belly finally met and happy for now.

"Shit, squeezing me so hard for? That ex of yours ain't do his job?" Attuma watched her face screw up in the mirror as he began to thrust, removing himself to the tip before slamming in again.

All Okoye was capable of doing was shaking her head as her moans echoed through the small restroom. "He..was too busy using it on other bitches." She groaned out.

Attuma's hips stuttered but did not halt as she unwillingly spilled that part of the story in her haze of pleasure. Why was he suddenly angry at the fact? He wasn't quite sure but he knew he had a goal now. And he would meet it by any means.

"It's alright. Daddy's here. Imma get you cumming nice and tight around my dick. Don't you worry."

#Spotify #alex livinalli #attuma #attoye #attuma x okoye #attoye fanfic #black panther #wakanda forever #danai gurira #mcu okoye #okoye x attuma #attoye smut #song prompt

[sungbeam]

Hi I wanted to request a fanfic....

A Kim mingyu x reader

Secret baby and non idol au

Angst with a happy ending

Could include prompts Nos. 67 & 61

Is that too much?

𝗻𝗲𝘄

nonidol!kim mingyu x fem!reader

1.9k words, secret baby au, angst w/a happy ending!, minghao kinda throws u under the bus skfndkd

a/n: hi anonie!! tysm for sending in a request, and it was not too much so dw ^_^ i do like some specificity sometimes, and i did enjoy writing this!

There were a few things that your friend Minghao was good at. One of them, it seemed, was dragging you to social outings that neither of you wanted to be present for. He had even found you a babysitter for your precious little one. Baby Yeona was only around eighteen months old, but Minghao insisted she was capable of taking care of herself. 

Clearly, he was no father. And he would definitely not be watching over Yeona for a while. 

Nonetheless, here you were, climbing out of Minghao's pretty, little gold Lexus while you wore the first set of nice clothes in a long time. You stared up at the sky-high facade of the luxury downtown hotel as you and Hao made your way toward the entrance. 

"I dunno," you voiced aloud. You were uncertain what you were trying to say, and you were uncertain as to whether or not you wanted to step foot in this building. 

Minghao rolled his eyes and took you by the bicep to help you up the steps. "Oh, come on. You're here, and I already paid the sitter. Let loose, Yn; it's been two years since you've been to a bar."

"For good reason," you muttered under your breath as you and Minghao caught a slot of the revolving entrance and entered the hotel lobby. 

It even smelled obnoxiously rich in here, you realized with an ill-concealed grimace. All the gold and marble glistening under bright LEDs made your head hurt. Jesus, maybe you did need a drink. 

Like he read your mind, Minghao directed you to the bar just to your right. It was, fortunately, dimly lit, with red velvet floors and walls panelled in smooth, dark wood. You already recognized several familiar faces—this was a reunion of your old uni friends, after all. 

"Oh my god, YN!" Seokmin exclaimed from the pool table, before abandoning his pool stick and racing over to you. 

Junhui was right on your tail, coming up to greet Hao warmly while Seokmin bombarded you in a massive hug. 

"How's Yeona?" Seokmin asked. He grinned at you, hand between your shoulder blades to guide you over to the bar. "She's almost at Terrible Twos, isn't she?" He teased, wagging his eyebrows up and down. 

You laughed with a shake of your head. Seokmin ordered you a light margarita, considering you probably hadn't had a proper drink in ages. "Almost. She's eighteen months right now, so probably in about six months or so. I am not ready for my angel to turn into the devil."

There were only a few people who knew of your daughter's existence. It hadn't been your plan to have her, but some things you could not control completely. It had happened on the night of your college graduation party, and you had finally taken your shot at a certain young man who had plagued your dreams for almost half of your years at university. He was a friend of a friend, but nearly everyone knew who he was, considering his attractive looks and personality and… suffice to say that you fell in the deep end. 

No, the father did not know. And you would be damned if he ever—

"Yn?"

You almost spat out your drink, and Seokmin, with panicky eyes, patted your back to help you get out the feel of the burn down your throat and windpipe. God, that stung. But maybe not as badly as how good he looked. 

Him being Kim Mingyu. Yeah, the father of your child. And he didn't seem to have changed a bit since you last saw him: black hair tamed well, broad and toned body fitted in semi formal wear (delectable), and that charming smile that knocked down all your defenses. At least… a few of them. 

He walked up to you and Seokmin with a look of pleasant surprise and utter disbelief stark on his face. "Oh my god—you're really here? I haven't seen you in so long."

Yeah, you wanted to say, but you couldn't really focus on anything but the sound of your pulsing heartbeat in your ears and the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils as you hugged him. Oh, good god. He feels and smells so good—

When you pulled away, Mingyu was giving Seokmin that weird handshake the boys had (you never asked questions). He still couldn't seem to believe his ears. 

"I—I mean," he stammered, eyes flickering from you to your blouse to you to your lips to you, "you look—" he swallowed, "—really good." He cleared his throat, and you could've sworn you heard Seokmin sneak out a giggle. 

You yourself sat perched on your barstool unnaturally stiff. If you could just make it through this conversation… "Thank you," you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You look good, too."

There was this moment where neither of you could really get any words out. It hadn't exactly been this way years ago, but you could remember the shy glances mixed with the flirty advances. You knew you harbored that flame for him somewhere, and perhaps you had kept it buried beneath your love and responsibilities toward your daughter. 

Seokmin cut in, "Cool! Uh…" he sipped his drink, brows furrowing, "want a drink, Gyu? Did you come with Wonwoo?"

Mingyu snapped out of his daze, coughing. "Ah, right. Yeah, that'd be great, thanks. And yep, he should be somewhere around—oh yeah. There he is, by Woozi hyung."

While Seokmin flagged the bartender down, Mingyu returned his attention to you. "So, uhm, I feel like I haven't seen you in, like, two or three years. I… How've you been?" Why didn't you stay in touch? Had he done something wrong? He wanted to ask. He'd been sitting on those questions and worries for so long, and no one would give him a straight answer about your whereabouts. 

"I've been good," you answered. And it was true, you couldn't have been happier with Yeona. It had been scary, no doubt, at first. But it had all turned out good and fine, and your close friends had been by your side the entire time. "Just trying to settle back—settle into work and adult things," you chuckled. "How about you? Did you finally decide to get yourself into culinary school?"

Another giggle from Seokmin that the two of you decidedly ignored. 

Mingyu could best be described with heart eyes. "You remembered? That was a fleeting conversation—"

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "But I mean, it was important to you, so of course, I remembered."

He smiled, bashfully, head ducked and cheeks reddening. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did get into a culinary school—"

"And, hey! Great idea: Mingyu should teach you how to cook, Yn!" Minghao's voice cut clean into the conversation as the man himself inserted himself into the little circle. Seokmin passed Mingyu his drink, and Minghao made pointed eyes at you from across the circle, gesturing silently at the man who was your baby daddy. 

Oh for the love of God, Xu Minghao. "I don't think that's really necessary."

"Suuuure, it is!" Minghao said, high pitched. He nodded his head again to Mingyu. "Yn has been meaning to learn some new recipes for her family anyway. Right, Yn?"

You glared at Minghao, and if the sun could be channeled through the eyes, you would use them to burn him alive right where he stood. I am going to murder you! You mouthed to him, over enunciating the words. So this was why he wanted you to be here tonight. Seokmin smartly chose this moment to go say hello to Joshua. 

Mingyu creased his brows. "Oh, er, I didn't know you had a family already, Yn." There was a definitive drop in energy present in his voice. "Are you married?"

If you hadn't been so worried about deciding on how to tell him about his secret child, you would have noticed Mingyu unsubtly searching your hands for a ring. You were not wearing one. 

You swallowed, setting the margarita glass on the bar counter. You saw Minghao back away slowly from the corner of your eye, and Mingyu took Seokmin's old seat. "Ah, I'm not. I just…" have a child, and she's yours, and I've been craving a person to be my partner in this… and maybe I still love you, but I don't know how to tell you. Please don't hate me.

Mingyu ducked his head just slightly so he met your eyes. "Hey, you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable. I don't know what Minghao was trying to say back there, but you really don't have to say anything."

"No, it's okay," you said quickly with a shake of your head. "I… I really should tell you about… my daughter. Our daughter." You tried to gauge his reaction, but his expression was carefully blank at this moment. 

A crease formed between his brows. "I'm sorry, did you just say our daughter?"

"Uhm, yes," you laughed nervously. 

"Holy shit—"

"I know—"

Mingyu flagged the bartender. "I am way too sober for this." He suddenly thought better and waved the bartender away with an apology. "Wait, how—how long? Yn, I had a kid this whole time? I have a kid with you?"

You nodded, rubbing your arm. "Yeah. It happened on graduation night. Y'know, when we…"

He pursed his lips. "Yeah, that makes sense." He stared at a random mark on the bar counter. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Mingyu," you said softly. You feared what he would think of you, scared he would still yell at you and reject you. That had probably been your greatest deterrent from telling him—that he would be disgusted with you and your child and turn you away. You just thought it would be better to avoid all of that heartache in full. Even if it meant hiding it all from him. 

"You were probably scared," he replied lowly, "I get it." He roughed a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. "You've been taking care of her by yourself this whole time? I just—I just wish you would have told me. We could have figured this out together."

He was looking at you now, reaching for your hands to cradle them in his own big palms. You wondered how you ever lived without this warmth. 

You gulped. "You had dreams, Mingyu. I didn't want us to be a burden—"

He scoffed, the noise so indignant and offended. "I'm just wondering what I did to make you think I would ever think you and my own daughter would be a burden to me. It might stall our plans, but it would only stall, Yn. You and…"

"Yeona," you stammered, "her name's Yeona."

Mingyu stopped and a smile slowly tugged at his lips. His eyes shone into the dim light of the bar, and his fingers linked with yours. "Yeona? She already sounds beautiful. Like her mother."

You felt like crying. Years of wondering and what ifs, and it could have all been solved with a conversation. "Do you want to meet her?"

His smile widened. "Do I? How's that even a question, darling?"

You laughed under your breath. "Okay," you nodded to yourself, "okay."

It was then that you realized just how badly you had needed this—this night, this conversation, this hope. Yeona had brought you up, but Mingyu was going to bring you all together. And as the two of you talked and laughed long into the night, neither of you could wait for when your two loves would be able to finally meet each other.

a/n: oh good god i think i liked that ending way more than i intended (not the ending paragraph, i think that was pretty gross, but the happy conclusion ig)

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @mythicalamphitrite @ana-is-losing-her-mind @super-btstrash-posts @otchae @luv4vernon @ashxxkook @thesunsfullmoon @parkjusing

#seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #caratwritersclub #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #mingyu oneshot #mingyu angst #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios

[blog-name-idk]

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 19

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 2563

~~~~~

The day of the showcase dawned bright and sunny, and you bounded eagerly into the kitchen. The only two already up were Jin, who was making pancakes, and Yoongi, who was collapsed face down at the island. You snickered at the sight, wondering why he even bothered to get out of bed at all if he was just going to nap as soon as he came downstairs.

At the sound of your laugh, the eldest looked up and smiled, looking positively adorable with his ruffled hair and pinstriped pajamas. Yoongi merely turned his head to face you, cheek still on the marble, and grunted in acknowledgement. He looked so cute like that, sleepy and zombie-like while waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, that you went over and flopped onto his back in a lazy hug.

"Get off," he grumbled. You ignored him. It had taken a few "hand jobs" for you to realize that quiet, confident Yoongi actually loved physical affection and was just too shy to vocalize it like the others. You didn't need to see the tiny smile on his lips to know he would push you away if he really wanted you off.

"Make me," you retorted.

He did nothing, proving your point. If you had known that he was currently very much enjoying the way you were pressed against him in just a t-shirt and shorts - because who in their right mind would wear a bra in their own home - you might have removed yourself. Or maybe not. You were growing increasingly conflicted about what to do about your insistent feelings.

"You're in a good mood," Jin observed, and you grinned at him over Yoongi's bedhead.

"Of course! I'm so excited for the performance today!"

"You're not even dancing though," Jimin complained with a yawn as he stumbled into the kitchen. Upon seeing you, he immediately joined the cuddle pile, making Yoongi protest that the two of you together were too heavy. The older boy still didn't move though, and you had to suppress an eye roll.

"Ohhh, me too!" Hobi bounced into the kitchen and threw himself on top of Jimin, eliciting a wheeze from Yoongi and a startled "oof" out of you. It was time to end this before anyone else came in and you joined the pancakes Jin was serving.

"Okay, get off of me you animals," you announced, straightening. The two dancers careened exaggeratedly to the floor and you snorted at their dramatic antics before heading to take out the blender.

"Do you guys want smoothies? Jimin, I got some fruit and stuff in case you felt too anxious for solid food."

"[Y/n], I love you!" He cried gratefully, leaping to his feet and running over to you to engulf you in a hug. You were grateful you were still facing away from everyone, because your face had gone a fiery red at his words. This boy - these boys - were going to be the death of you.

~~~~~

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" You urged impatiently, rushing to the auditorium while your roommates lagged behind. You turned around and scowled, stomping your foot in vexation at their slowness. "Come on, we're going to be late!"

"It doesn't even start for another half hour," Jungkook told you with a snort and a grin, charmed by your display.

"Well, we need to get good seats!"

"Our tickets have assigned seating," said Taehyung from behind the youngest, giggling at the unamused expression on your face. The older boys - Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi - still had end-of-year school tasks to be wrapped up and couldn't make it, which was disappointing but understandable.

"Whatever," you huffed. You decided to ignore their logic and hurry onward whether they followed or not.

"You're so fired up," laughed Taehyung, jogging to catch up to you.

"I only got to see like a minute of their practice forever ago!" You complained, remembering just how impressive even that had been. You couldn't wait to see the full show, especially now that they had been working for months.

"Well it'll be great," Jungkook agreed, having reached your other side in just a few large strides with his stupid long legs. "I can't wait for Jimin's solo."

"That little shit didn't tell me he had a solo!" You cried in indignation, stopping dead. Taehyung glared at the younger boy.

"He wanted it to be a surprise," Jungkook mumbled, looking suitably chastened. You relaxed a little bit.

"Hmph, well I guess that's okay then," you said primly, making your friends laugh. "Let's go."

Despite your early arrival, the auditorium was already packed. This was a year end showcase for the school of dance specifically, which consisted of ballet, jazz, and contemporary styles. To drum up more interest and ticket sales, they allowed others to participate so long as they passed an audition.

This was how Hobi and Jimin's dance group was even performing, considering hip hop wasn't exactly a common style in University Fine Arts programs.

While Jimin himself was a contemporary dance major, Hobi was actually in the Classic Lit department. Dancing was his real passion, which was why he started his group. And he was obviously amazing, considering even Jimin himself deferred to him.

The dance school evidently agreed, because despite this technically being a showcase for their students, they were having his troupe close the program. Which was probably something of a slap to the face for many of the dance students who were devoting their lives to their art. But it did kind of make sense - the sad reality was that without that, it was likely people wouldn't stick around through the whole event. Well, at least Jimin didn't seem bitter about it. Then again, he was on the team.

Your seats were surprisingly good - almost exactly front and center, and you silently blessed Jimin for getting you guys a discount. Tae had told them their seat numbers ahead of time, so even if they couldn't see you due to the stage lights, they'd know where you would be sitting.

The other surprise was how crowded the auditorium was. When you took a look at the program notes, you saw a startling variety of acts. Besides performances by different styles and levels of dance majors, a few solo performances (you squealed when you saw Jimin's name listed), and Hobi's closing act, there were even slots for groups like the ballroom dance club.

Eventually the lights dimmed and the show began. You were surprised by how much you actually enjoyed all the acts, especially since you had never really followed this type of art before. But the graceful movements and the control these individuals had over their bodies was truly something inspiring, and you found yourself applauding whole-heartedly after each performance.

Then Jimin's solo began, and everything around you vanished except the stage and the dancer it belonged to. He was so light on his feet, and yet each movement had a heavy, yearning quality that made your heart ache. You were unable to hold back a gasp as you watched, mesmerized. Everything about the performance - about him - was just so beautiful, in a way you had never experienced.

This ethereal creature was the same silly boy you giggled with every day? The one who cried on your shoulder when he was overwhelmed, who was always there to comfort you when life got to be too much? Every step, every dip of his arms, and every shift of his body was confident, deliberate, and perfect. Somehow, every time he looked out into the audience it felt like he was staring straight into your soul and you felt yourself spiraling into the endless abyss of his intense gaze.

As the music faded, he sank slowly to lie on the floor of the stage as if defeated, and the audience roared into applause. You stared blankly as the roommates on either side of you jumped up and hollered their approval, and when you touched your cheeks you realized they were wet. Jimin stood and bowed, flashing a bright smile in the direction of your seats. It sent an arrow straight into your heart, and you swallowed thickly.

The lights came on for the intermission and you quickly wiped your face, though the gentle look Taehyung gave you told you he had noticed.

"I'm gonna get some water," you stammered, trying to calm yourself. "Do you guys want anything?"

"Oh! I'll come too," Jungkook exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "I'll decide there."

"Me too, I could stretch my legs," said Taehyung, taking your hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze. You gave him a smile, though the warmth that bloomed inside of you at his touch also gave rise to a hint of panic. What was wrong with you? How could you feel this way about more than one person?

Once outside of the main hall, you felt a little better, if only because the bustle helped divert your mind to your surroundings. Jungkook paid for your water and his, waving away your protests, and the three of you decided to walk around a bit before the next half began.

"[Y/n]!"

A voice pierced through the noise and you turned to see Dongmin making his way towards you. You smiled and waved, and introduced him to your two roommates. You could have sworn they stiffened for a moment when they learned his name, but the sensation was gone in a flash.

"Did you get to see Jimin's performance?" You asked eagerly, and the boy grinned and nodded with enthusiasm.

"I did! That guy is amazing, I swear my jaw was on the floor the whole time," he said, and you nodded in agreement. Your two roommates seemed a little mollified at the praise of their friend.

"The whole thing's been really fun so far," you added. "I can't believe you guys are actually the final act!"

"Yeah, it's kind of terrifying," he admitted, laughing apprehensively. "I actually have to go meet them soon to get ready. I'm glad I caught you, though."

He suddenly looked a little nervous and his eyes darted to Jungkook and Taehyung, who were standing at your sides like weird bodyguards. Visibly steeling himself, he looked back at you.

"Uh, in case I don't see you after the show… Could I maybe get your number? It's totally cool if not, I just know I'd be kicking myself the whole summer if I didn't even ask."

You froze, surprised and a little impressed he had come right out and said it in front of your friends. You were a bit of a coward yourself, as was clearly evidenced by your lack of any type of definitive action or decision when it came to your roommates.

It took you all of a second to realize that it would be completely unfair to this very nice person if you gave him your number. It would imply interest when in reality your heart was completely consumed and likely had zero room left.

"I'm really flattered," you began apologetically, and he grinned crookedly, already realizing where this was going. "I wish I could say yes, but I'm kind of uh, emotionally fucked up right now and it really wouldn't be fair to either of us."

"I appreciate the honesty," he responded with an awkward laugh, and your stomach twisted with guilt. It really was too bad, the fact that he was taking it gracefully already spoke volumes about his character. Maybe if you'd met him instead of your ex things would have been different.

"I'm really sorry," you responded miserably, truly meaning it, and he gave you a more genuine smile.

"Nah you're good, really. I'd definitely rather hear that now than later on," he assured you, and the honesty in his face helped ease a bit of your guilt.

"Anyway, I should go get ready. It was nice meeting you guys," he added politely to Jungkook and Taehyung, who gave him awkward nods, clearly feeling bad for him. They probably thought you were an asshole for rejecting him considering as far as they knew, there was no emotional turmoil in you whatsoever.

A bell chimed, indicating the intermission was at its end, and the three of you headed back to your seats. You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you didn't even notice that your two friends were completely silent.

Even when the performances started back up, you couldn't get as invested as earlier. Your mind wouldn't stop running. What had you been thinking? Dongmin was clearly a great guy, giving him a chance might have helped you get over your pointless feelings for your friends. No nevermind, that would have been using him with no guarantee that you would end up feeling the same way. You were a jerk for even thinking that in the first place. Man, you were a mess.

When the final act began, all you could do was gawk with your mouth hanging open like an idiot. In his solo, Jimin had been gorgeous, elegant, and graceful. Here he looked downright sinful, with a sultry expression you had never seen even at his flirtiest. Combined with his crisp movements, he screamed sexual prowess, and you found yourself gulping your water to wet your suddenly dry throat.

Hoping for escape, you darted your gaze to Hobi and immediately began to choke. There were hip thrusts in the choreography? Where was your bright, cheerful, goofy, sunshine Hobi? Who was this confident sex god with a cocky smirk and - holy shit he just licked his lips.

By the time the performance was over you had finished all of your water and half of Jungkook's. And your body still felt like it was on fire. What the fuck was that? Who gave them the right to do this to you?

As soon as the applause ended you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. You needed a moment. Or several.

You were splashing water on your cheeks in a vain attempt to calm down when you realized you had definitely made the right choice turning Dongmin down. You had been so captivated by your two friends that you had completely forgotten anyone else was on the stage, him included. Whoops.

While you dried your face and hands, you contemplated what exactly you should do about this ridiculous situation you had found yourself in. You weren't about to just announce "HEY GUYS I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT THE WHOLE SEX THING!" The thought of exposing yourself like that was more horrifying than the whole Jungkook-spanking debacle.

For a moment you wished you were as brave as Mina, who had no trouble telling people exactly what she wanted. Then again, she seemed unable to do the same with Jackson, so maybe the two of you weren't so different in that sense after all. How would they feel about the idea that you liked all of them? Wouldn't they be disgusted and assume you were just a huge slut or something? And if by some weird miracle one of them did return your feelings, would it even be fair for them if you couldn't get over how you felt about the others?

It was too much for you to handle, so you decided to take the coward's route and do nothing for now. Better that than ruin everything.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @singukieee @persphonesorchid @xmochiloverx @taestefully-in-luv @meavie @silscintilla @forpunishers @jnghs

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader

[gourdkeeper]

This is a fic I wrote for @nippydippy after they came up with the idea of "what if Jamie sent the reader thirsty and needy videos of him teasing and playing with himself to rile them up while they're away.

Afab Reader x Jamie 📸📸📸 (NSFW)

Word count: 4112

Content warnings: 18+, afab reader, well established relationship between the two, living together, jamie takes nudes and lewd videos, sex tape (?), come eating, dirty talking, name calling, possible blackmailling kink, anal, pegging, masturbation, hair pulling

It was hard to leave the bed this morning let alone the house. Jamie kept hugging you and peppering kisses on your skin but sadly you had responsibilities and you wanted to stay cordial. They weren't big saving the world type of tasks but regardless, it had to be done.

You had to grab groceries and Luke, your old friend and coach asked you for help to teach his class today, he needed a capable fighter to demonstrate techniques on and he knew he could rely on you.

The thought of you being touched by Luke in any sort of way had Jamie roll his eyes and sigh. Ugh, why can't you just skip out and stay in bed with him, he thinks. It'd be so much more fun, for the both of you.

Sadly for him, nothing could be done about it. You had already gotten dressed and pecked a quick kiss on his forehead and are ready to be on your way.

He just wishes he could do anything to keep you with him. And most definitely away from his rival that you just had to become close friends with. "Unfair." He mutters and pouts as he turns on the bed, dragging the bed sheets around, pinned underneath his weight. All he can think of is you. Your touch, his fingertips brushing over your skin, his mouth on your neck, his grip on your waist as you beg for him to fill you up...or maybe the other way around. Things would never get boring. Except, that idiot Sullivan gets to be with you. He gets to touch you, toss you around, put you on a chokehold just to show off to his students. It fills him with rage. But also, with lust. The idea of someone else holding you and doing as they please, but at the end of the day you come back to him because no one's a match for the great Jamie Siu. He gets to do that to you and so much more... If only it could happen right now.

He's lost in thought, mourning the fact that he can't have you on top of him until you come back home.

He notices he's leaking. Cock straining against the bed sheets, he had started rutting against them unconsciously, craving for you.

Normally he wouldn't act on his urges, even being pent up he'd rather wait and have you take care of his needs. But this time... This time is different, he knows who you're with. He knows he can make you crave for him just as badly as he craves for you in front of your idiot coach and you'll be away from home, getting teased, pent up and wanting him the entire time you're away from him.

He reaches for his phone and opens the camera app.

Jamie ponders for a second. Wondering if this would be a good idea. "Fuck it."

He uncovers himself just a bit. Bedsheets draping over him artistically like that of a marble statue from distant times. Outline of his cock very much in frame, his neck stretched and hand over his chest.

*Click*

He turns around, putting his ass up as high as he possibly could and shoves his head down, half peeking at the camera, mouth agape and lidded needy eyes.

*Click*

He goes over to the edge of the bed, kneeling, legs spread apart, camera pointed at the mirror, tightening his abs and flexing, his hand wrapped around his hair, pulling on it while looking vulnerable and fully exposed.

*Click*

His hand shakes with anticipation. Sending nudes feels bold even for him. He opens the messaging app and selects your contact.

With zero context, Jamie selects his pictures and hits the send button. Now he waits.

---

You're just about finished with the lesson, you notice your phone vibrating from the bench and you walk over to it, unlocking it.

"Message from Jamie huh? Bet he misses me-"

Your mouth goes agape, not a single sound produced.

You whip your head around to see if no one can see your phone.

"What the hell..." You mouth, cheeks turning bright red and feeling your blood rush to your nether regions.

How is this man so fucking hot? This should be illegal.

You start typing.

"Jamie holy shit." Send.

"You know others could have seen this right?" Send.

"You're so fucking hot, just you wait until I get home." Send.

Holy crap dude, he sure knows how to push your buttons.

You see the icon change as he read the messages and starts typing to you.

"Yeah? Let them see it then, they'll just be jealous of what they can't have. Come home then. Punish me."

"Oh so that's how he wants to play is it?" You think to yourself. Smile forming on your lips just as you hear a familiar voice from behind you making you jolt, turn and hide your phone behind your back.

"What got you so happy all of a sudden?"

"Oh Luke! Oh uhhh nothing really!"

He isn't buying it, he looks at you with one eyebrow raised for a second or two and then laughs and pats you in the shoulder.

"It's alright, keep your secrets then." What a nerd. "Listen, the class is over, you can go on about your day and uhm," he clears his throat, "say hi to Jamie for me will you?"

You freeze as he walks off.

"Oh my god did he catch a glimpse?" You hope he was just being friendly, regardless. Your phone buzzed again and you rushed over to the bathroom to take a look in privacy.

Your notification read:

"Jamie sent a message, 1 video attached."

"A vi...a video?"

You hesitantly put your phone's volume on at the lowest volume and listen closely while you open the file.

"Holy fuck."

He's laying on the bed sprawled out, hair a mess, sweaty, flushed cheeks and chest. Masturbating. Moaning your name. "Please... I miss you so much... I need you... Please punish me... Ruin me..." His head thrown back, body tensed as if he'd been holding his orgasm in for awhile now. Either he's a really good actor or you're gonna need to hurry up if you don't want him to blow the entirety of his loads all on his own.

You feel yourself getting wet. You want him so badly. You need to put him in his place, you need to kiss him and call him dirty names, and scratch him, and ride him and-

You hurry out of the bathroom, gather your things, say bye to everyone with a wave and a smile and rush out the door. You need to get back home right this instant. The groceries can wait for the day after.

---

Jamie's heart is pounding so hard it's like it'll pop out of his chest any moment. He never recorded himself before. He's watching the video playback again, "Goddamn I look good" he exclaims as if to hype himself up. He was acting it up, he's not that close to an orgasm. Yet. But it was so much fun wondering what your reaction would be.

Much to his dismay, the video has been marked as read but you haven't replied and you've been offline since... "Hmmm maybe I broke them... I should do it again."

Jamie tries his best to prop up his phone horizontally on the nightstand against the lamp. The angle is perfect. The light rays shining through the blinds illuminating him, he lays with one leg lifted up.

"Yeah that should work..."

He reaches up to hit the capture button again and immediately lays back down before it begins recording.

Leg still up, giving a perfect view, his face peeking out from behind his arm, covering his eyes which are tightly shut. Whimpering. His other arm reaching down, trailing down his thigh, moving past his sex and going over to his hole, playing with it lightly, he starts whining and quivering.

Biting his hand now as he gently inserts one finger. "Please fill my hole up... Please... Use me" he moans as he bucks his hips so that the finger slips in further.

"Please make me your slut~"

He only notices you've arrived when he looked back at the camera and sees you standing by the doorway, frozen.

He withdrew his finger as he jolted up.

"I thought you'd be gone longer!"

You grin as you drop your bag at the doorway and step in slowly.

"You thought so, didn't you? What do you think you're doing Jamie?"

His already flushed face turned into a tomato. Kneeling on the bed he tries to find words.

"I don't know what you mean..!"

"No?" You pull your phone out and open a picture to put up right against his face. "What are these then?"

He gains a smug smirk on his face, "Did you like them? Did you crave me so badly you came running right away?"

You decide to just give him hell, with a sparkle on your eye you take a fist of his hair and pull him to you abruptly.

He cries out in pleasure as you yank him over to you. Your other hand reaching his lenght and immediately taking hold of it and start jerking it.

"I think it's better I show you how much I like them instead of saying it." You smile mischiveously at him, his face contorted and body tensed as he does nothing to stop your ministrations. "What were you pleading for again? Punish me? Use me? Ruin me? Don't worry, I will... I'll make sure to drain you dry, and when you're all spent I'll ride that pretty face of yours and come all over it." Your grip on him tightening and applying more pressure, talking dirty to him, planting the idea on his mind that you intend on using him the entire day.

You firm a knee on the bed against his balls keeping his legs spread open and lean to the crook of his neck to lick it.

He moans loudly. Making no effort to muffle it or stop himself, just lost in the moment.

You lick him again. And again. Your lips meet his skin and kiss it before opening your mouth to bite him and sucking in. That's sure to leave a mark. He's whimpering and his body rock hard, back arching and toes curling.

"I- m'gonna c- ah-!"

"You're gonna cum already? Beg for it."

You don't stop or slow down, you just want to hear the whines and moans escape his lips as he tries to put words together when his brain is a mushy mess already from just one handjob.

A stream of "please's" exit his mouth, he can't think of much else to say. His eyes and lips shut tight as his body begins to convulse.

You slow down just for a small instant as he sprays his seed all over his torso.

"Good boy..." Your hand letting go of his swollen cock to sweep up his come into your fingers.

You bring them to his mouth and snake them past his lips, leaving a mess on his chin.

His face twists for a second as he has a taste but his neediness speaks louder than his initial disgust and complies. Licking around your digits and sucking them in.

"You're such a good slut for me Jamie..."

You start moving your fingers in and out as he moans around them, letting go of his hair and moving to his chest instead, alternating between groping him and playing with his nipple.

"We're just getting started..."

His eyes are heavy and full of lust. His forehead and body sweaty with his silky hair sticking to it. You just wish this beautiful image of him could be immortalised beyond your memory. And then, it strikes you. The phone's camera is still on.

"Weren't you recording yourself again when I got here?"

"...!" His eyes go wide and he tries to get up.

Your hand on his chest pushes him back down instantly.

"You're not turning that thing off." Your voice low, your mouth crooked into a smile, tongue licking over your lips. "It's gonna keep running. I'll make sure to ruin you in front of it." You come to whisper in his ear again. "The great Jamie Siu getting ruined on camera... And don't even think of deleting that. Imagine if anyone saw it... The legendary peacekeeper? In such a vulnerable position? Being a needy slut? Begging to be used?"

Your words burrowing into his brain, finding a fantasy he didn't know he had. His cock once more growing and hardening and his cheeks flushed bright red with your fingers still deep inside his mouth.

His breath grows shallow. If you didn't know any better you'd say he could come again just from your dirty talking. "Maybe I should fuck that pretty asshole of yours next."

His eyes go wide again, if he could blush any harder he would have.

You withdraw your fingers with a pop of his lips and step off the bed to grab something from the drawer.

"Don't even dare thinking of leaving that same spot."

He wouldn't. His head is spinning, he can't believe you actually came home to punish and destroy him. His wish came true and he couldn't be any happier with the result. Maybe he should tease you over the phone more often if it leads to sex like this.

He knew what you were capable of, you've put him in his place more than once, but this pent up version of you isn't something he sees as often. The way you handle him rougher, talk dirty to him with more venom, make him beg and do as you please with him. It drives him insane in every single good way.

You come back, strap put on with the harness and a bottle of lube in hands. "Missed me?" A smirk on your face.

He lets his head roll to the side to see you.

"You're not taking your clothes off?" He's almost pouting.

"Wasn't it supposed to be a punishment? You'll have to be a good boy and earn that."

His cock twitches.

You scoop up the left over come that was on his abdomen and smear it on the dildo as he watches intently with his lips parted.

"Get over here." You hook your hands under his armpits and drag him to the edge of the mattress head hanging off the bed, checking with the camera to see if it's all in frame. Perfect.

You take his wrists, crossing them and pin them to his pelvis with one hand.

Your other hand, free, takes hold of the rubber dick and slap it lightly on his cheek.

"Open up slut."

He obliges, nervous, it's not the first time you've had him give a blowjob, but the position is definitely new for him.

"Good boy." You slip it in, head first so he can adjust himself and feel comfortable. You gently pull in and out. With each thrust going a bit further. Muffled moans around the dildo as he does his best to take it.

Normally he would have gagged on it already but he hasn't realized that you've shoved it fully in already. The position making it easier to take in, you praise him.

"You're such a good slut for me. Balls deep into your throat and your cock is still leaking. You should take a look at yourself. Good boy."

The mental image could honestly tip him over but he holds on strong. Letting you fuck his mouth and getting more pent up and closer with each thrust of yours.

"If anyone saw how much of a cocksleeve you are I'd have to fight for you. All those stupid street thugs would want to whore you out and pass you around as their toy."

He can't even understand where you keep getting these ideas from or how you know exactly how to push his buttons but it just works. His legs moving erratically, stretching and freezing in place and his feet gripping onto the bedsheets. His drool running down his cheeks as you speed up. You know he's close, making you proud that you know how to drive him there so well.

"Aw? Is my slut going to come for me again? Not yet."

You pull out, connected to his lips by a long and thick string of saliva. A whine exits his mouth.

You let go of his wrists and wipe off the excess drool on his face.

"You know that second picture you sent me? With your ass up?"

He nods.

"Take that position."

Jamie rolls around and crawls over to point his ass at you and you smack it hard making him yelp out.

"Where are you going?"

"D-doing what you told me?"

"I want your face here. Pointed at the camera."

"...! Oh-" somehow he didn't expect that. "I'm sorry-"

"You will be." You say with a wink and friendly smile on your face.

It makes him shiver. He loves you so much, it drives him completely wild how you can turn him into putty in your hands like no one else could ever.

He assumes position and you circle around, getting on the bed on your knees behind him. Taking the lube bottle and spreading some on his entrance, fingertip slightly slipping in as you lube him up.

You start with two fingers. Making sure he's relaxed but he's tensed up.

You press your other hand on his lower back, lowering it just a bit.

"Take a deep breath baby."

He does as told and his muscles relax.

"Good boy." You slip them both in, effortlessly. To be fair he was already working himself up when you arrived.

You immediately find his sweet spot like it was muscle memory and make him moan and hide his face on the bed.

"Stop hiding." You grab his hair to pull up and then shove his head back down sideways, only just partially covered by the bedsheet. "I want everyone to see your pretty face while I drill you. Want it to be loud and clear that I'm fucking Jamie Siu, protector of Chinatown like a cheap whore. You understand?"

"Yeah-" he moans out.

"Who are you?" As you pump your fingers in, striking his prostate every time.

"J-Jah- Jamie Siu!"

"Good boy. And what are you?"

"Ah...!" You've hit the spot once more making him see stars. "I'm a pe- peacekeeper..."

Your free hand strikes down on his ass.

"What are you right now?"

"Your slut!“ he cries out.

You remove the fingers and start rubbing the strap on on his taint. Poking at his balls and dragging up to his butthole.

"Good boy. And what do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me. Please!" He tries to look away and hide his face again.

*Smack*

One more slap on his ass cheeks.

"Face up slut."

He struggles to remain composed in any way shape or form. His brain stuggles to hold onto any thoughts, all he wants is to get pounded by you right now. His hips rutting backwards against you on instinct.

"Beg." you bark as you rub against him once more.

"Please! Please just shove it in!"

He's desperate. He needs you to fill him up and fuck him the way he deserves.

You press the tip against the entrace.

"Fuck- yes! Please!"

"Tsk, so needy."

You hold onto his waist for extra grip and insert yourself in, slowly.

His mouth forming into an O, his eyebrows knit together, one eye shut tight and the other admiring the view from the camera.

You bottom out, "That's my good boy." You stay there for a second and reach around for his cock.

He jolts and moans, not expecting the sudden touch.

"Oh my god-" he mutters under his breath.

You smirk, you love the control you have over him.

"How badly do you want me to fuck you? Hm?"

"So bad! Please, I'll do anything, just fuck me, please!"

Who are you to deny such a heartfelt plea? You grip his waist and pull out about halfway and slowly dip it in again. Angling yourself to hit his special spot. Slowly you pull out, your hand starts moving. Just as slow. And in. You're not gentle with your thrusting but you're being oh so slow. You know it drives him wild.

His greedy bottom rocking trying to get you to go faster.

"Pleaseeee~"

He mewls out, needy and vulgar. Jamie's eagerness and need for you never fails to inflate your ego.

"Do you want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes!“

"And fast?“

"Yes- please!"

"You sure you can handle it big boy?"

"I can take it, please fuck my brains o-"

He doesn't have time to finish the sentence before you hold onto him hard and start pouding into his ass. Hand on his cock trying to keep up.

A myriad of moans escaping his lips. Eyes completely unfocused, hair a mess, drool dripping down onto the bedsheet. Hands gripping the bed capable of tearing it open.

"You... You take me so well Jamie..." Taking short and shallow breaths yourself, getting weary from the fast pace and brunt force you're fucking him at.

His cock is pulsing in your hand and his legs are trembling, just about to give out when you pull out leaving him feeling empty and gasping for air.

You grab him by his legs and flip him around. You want to see his pretty face when you make him come again.

You waste no time and enter him again, his face contorting from the sudden intrusion.

"Jerk yourself off for me. Good boy."

Both his hands at work, one cupping his balls and the other trying to match your pace the best it could.

You hold his legs up and press down, his lower back angled up. His head whipped back, fully visible to both you and the camera. Your dildo entering him and thrusting hard and fast. Faster. Harder. Your breath synchronized, his moans filling the room together with your grunts.

"I- I need to-"

"Come. Empty yourself for me."

He sees white and it happens in an instant. Ropes of seed shot up. Some hitting his face. Most of it pooling in his torso once more.

"That's right."

You keep fucking him until you're certain he's fully drained and then slow down. Still thrusting but at a much more bearable pace, almost gentle.

His legs continue to tremble in your hold. He ain't going anywhere after this, you'd be surprised if he could stand up right now.

You exit him and let go to grab his phone.

"You look so cute, all fucked out like a dirty slut~"

A smile flashes on his face for a second.

You flip the camera orientation and point it at him, covered in his own filth.

"Hey Jamie... Look here..."

He pries his eyes open, to look up at you...and the camera, confused.

You reach with your hand to his come once more, scooping the most of it.

"Open up... Stick your tongue out for me..."

He does as told, his with eyebrows furrowed and looking up at you as if begging for mercy.

You smear it onto his tongue.

"Clean it all up boy."

He does his best effort to lap it all up and leave your fingers spotless. Licking all over and sucking them in.

"What do you have to tell me for that?"

"T-thank you..."

You click the stop button. Perfect.

You put the phone aside and run your other hand through his hair.

"You did so well for me pretty boy... That's what you get for teasing me..."

"Still...still want to please you."

"Hm?" You look at him puzzled. How does he still have any energy after all that?

"You said you'd ride my face until you come all over me...please, let me please you..."

"Baby you don't have to, you must be exhausted..."

"I want it. Don't make me get on top of you after this." He snarls a little at the end. He is tired. A lot. But he's more than capable of flipping this whole situation on you if you don't grant him his wish and let him eat you out. On the bottom or on top, Jamie Siu always gets what he wants.

You unbuckle the strap's harness and your pants, letting them fall to the ground. Your shirt tossed aside immediately afterwards.

This is going to be a long day.

#gourdkeeper #jamie siu #jamie siu x reader #jamie street fighter #afab reader #street fighter 6

[grimalkinmessor]

for the fic writers ask game — ❤️ and 🎁 ? :-)

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

OH BOY that one is difficult!! I've written a lot of lines over the years that make me go "...Oh damn that one is AWESOME where did THAT come from??" but....I thiiiink I'm gonna have to go with the one that seems to be everyone else's favorite:

"You look at his hands the same way he looks at your throat."

Ah, The First to Fall my beloved magnum opus 🙏

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

SEVERAL!!! So many that it physically pains me to choose!! :D

But I'll yeet out one for Cosmic Entities bc I know that's the one my DN peeps are most thirsty for lmao:

————

"You wouldn't understand," Light snaps, turning to rifle through the bags of blankets to find one he doesn't hate. "You were never human so you don't know what it's like—" "Explain it to me then," Ryuk urges, knocking his boot against Light's ankle. "You're good at that, ain't cha?" Light pauses, his hands half-clawed against the plastic of one of the blanket bags. He takes a deep breath and forces his hands to relax, claws shrinking back into normal fingertips. It's just...Ryuk, he reminds himself. He can be honest with Ryuk. "I want to play the game again," Light admits through gritted teeth. "I liked having him there to challenge me. Everything was so boring for so long, but then I became Kira and L came along in rapid succession, and I was anything but bored. I...enjoyed. Having him around."

Pawing through the selection, Light finally finds a satisfactory bedspread with a marbled white and gold pattern. He pulls it out and holds it tightly in his hands, lips pursed in thought. For something to explain the war in his mind.

"Imagine...finding the rarest, prettiest tiger on Earth. It's the last of its kind, and you've never seen anything like it before. You want to keep it, to get close and pet it, but you know, logically, that it's still a dangerous animal. And for your own safety, you need to leave it alone—handle it from a safe distance. But that urge, the desire to play with and be close to it, doesn't just go away. Sometimes you can't resist the urge to feed it through the bars—even though you know you might just lose a hand. Do you understand? Is any of this getting through to you?" Light glances over at Ryuk through his bangs, and blinks in surprise when he finds Ryuk's expression thoughtful rather than amused.

"Yeah," Ryuk answers after a moment, head tipped. "Yeah, I could see that."

"Really?" Light says incredulously. Suspiciously. It's not that he doesn't think Ryuk could imagine such a thing, but that sort of response implies some kind of...empathy. Which Ryuk, even as a semi-Shinigami, shouldn't be capable of.

Ryuk snorts at Light's narrowed eyes, rolling his own as he turns to look through the blankets himself. "What? We might be friends," Ryuk drawls, his smile a sneer. "But if ya think I don't know when I'm livin' with a predator, then I might just get offended. I ain't that stupid, kid, whatever you think."

Light takes a moment to digest that. He licks across his fangs, his mouth suddenly buzzing with the urge to make something bleed.

#asks #ask game #blondiest #thank yoouuu ✨ #writers ask game #the first to fall #i hold hands with cosmic entities #lawlight

[coffeedrivenfiction]

Black Hawk

Summary: Clint has a name for their co-operative ventures. Natasha doesn't like it. He says give it time. She says she did and it still sounds like mud backwards.

“That’s a stupid name. And I mean really stupid. I thought we had moved past those, you just said we needed to get serious.”

A glimmer of surprise resonated in Clint’s eye as took a rough bite of his pizza, scoffing at his partner. “I was serious. What, you gonna tell me that it’s not catchy?”

There was something pitying about the way Nat nodded, as if she felt sorry for Clint’s genuine enthusiasm. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, Clint. It’s not catchy, it doesn’t ring any bells—try again, and get above the obvious.”

Now thoroughly indignant, Clint pointed to the red-haired spy across from him with his half-eaten pizza. “I refuse to believe you can sit there with a straight face and tell me ‘Black Hawk’ wouldn’t be the best name for our tag-team work.”

“Seeing is believing, watch me,” and Nat leveled him with a face crafted of marble, emotionless and cold, reminiscent in all the ways to the kinds of looks she used to give Clint himself when he first found her all those years ago. Then, before Clint could begin to grow uncomfortable, her expression warmed and a smile split her cherry-red lips. “Believe me now?”

“I believe you’re full of shit, that’s what I believe, Nat. It’s a great name, fact.”

“It’s unimaginative, better fact. C’mon, arrow-boy, you were in the circus once,” she bargained, reaching out for what Clint noticed was her fourth slice of pizza. There was no denying Nat had a body capable of dropping jaws just as easily as it could break necks so he found her propensity to pack it away yet retain such a figure nothing short of unfair. “I’dda thought that as one of the carny folk, your imagination would be higher than… Black Hawk.”

He grinned. “I can’t help but notice that you’re being mighty contrary for someone not even bothering to throw out a suggestion.”

“Well, if you ask me,” began Nat passively, and she lifted both legs, crossing them comfortably over the table, “I’d go with Black Eye instead. Keeps your elementary name scheme with the added benefit of sounding threatening. See? Miles better already.”

There was something snidely victorious about the way she smirked at him and Clint rolled his eyes. “Miles violent, sure,” he conceded, downing the crust of his pizza and wiping his hands over his chest. “But we’re trying to come up with something more… super-hero-y. Something to inspire hope in the people.”

“Ugh, pig. We have napkins right here, y’know,” Nat reprimanded with an exaggerated face of disgust. “Maybe you should change your moniker to Grease-Eye instead.”

Smirking, Hawkeye pushed himself to his feet with the help of the table. “You’re on your sixth slice of pizza—yeah, I’ve been counting—and somehow I’m the pig?” he questioned incredulously, making his way around to her side. “Spy’s must not dabble in logic, huh?”

“Spell logic,” she shot back with an uncaring shrug before taking a painstakingly slow bite from her sixth slice, then she proceeded to pull back at the same vexingly leisured pace, causing strands of cheese to coat her bottom lip. “Mmmm… sooo cheesy.” She’d all but gasped it out, using that skilled little pink tongue of hers to trace her lip.

As Clint stared down at his partner, there was little he could do in the face of her routine but offer a couple of lingering golf claps. “Ten outta ten, Nat, I’d definitely be surrendering all of my government’s secrets if I was your mark,” he told her with the utmost enthusiasm.

They both knew that Nat’s famed charms had no effect whatsoever on Clint, especially given their past history, so his words did little more than cause Nat to giggle.

“Were you so easy,” she mused with a snort.

“Were I,” Clint agreed and he swiftly bent over, bringing his lips to her cheeks with enough force to ensure he left behind a very sloppy, very pinguid kiss mark, “but I’m not.”

A groan of sincere aversion left Nat as she immediately sat upright, snatching a few napkins from the pile and swiping frantically at her cheek. “Oh, no you did not just—ew, ew, ew, you gross little… I’m so gonna get you back,” she vowed, fixing him with a glare that was one part entirely Black Widow and one part playful. “You’re such an ass.”

“Of course,” Clint agreed again, easily falling back into his chair and throwing his legs up with all the flair of a boss, “but I’m your ass.”

After discarding her eighth napkin and double-checking that she had erased all trace of Clint’s surprise kiss, Nat grunted, the smallest of smiles just barely visible in place of her disgusted scowl. “Hmph. Speaking of asses,” she began casually, returning her legs to the tabletop as well, “did you ever get Laura to agree to do that?”

Something that resonated close to regret surfaced over Clint’s features and he sighed, throwing his head back. “I brought it up, she quickly brought it down.”

Nat sucked her teeth understandingly. “Swing and a miss. What a shame, it’s not like you’re suggesting something outrageous. A little butt-play is fun every now and again,” she said with a supercilious little sniff.

The inclination was all too clear in Nat’s tone and Clint tilted his head so as to meet her gaze, but he found her staring off to the side a little too intensively to be convincing. “Funnily enough, that’s what I was thinking. I mean, you certainly didn’t mind, right?”

If she did, Nat didn’t show it, but she did huff out a sigh and further avoid Clint’s smug leer by staring up at the ceiling. He could see she was using her tongue to prod around her bottom lip, a cute little tick of hers she reverted to when she was trying to be meticulous with her words. “It’s not so much that I didn’t mind, Clint,” she said, filling his name with enough venom to match a real black widow, “it’s that you didn’t really give me much choice in the matter.”

The last slice of pizza was calling Clint’s name and he reached for it. “Right, like the Black Widow would let herself be taken in any way she didn’t want.”

“Tch, it’s so rare that you actually take the reins that I was genuinely surprised, couldn’t really do much about it,” she said, catching his movements and retaliating by grasping the knife at her hip. When they met eyes, the air seemed to shimmer with their intensity, and Nat smirked. “You really wanna risk it all like this, arrow-boy?”

“I risk it all every day I step out with you, Nat.” And while that much was wholly true, as just walking down the street with the Black Widow was taking your life into your own hands, it didn’t stop Clint from snatching the last slice, which led to Nat quite earnestly trying to imbed her trusty knife in the back of his hand. She missed, and it sank into the table instead. “Ha, gotta be quicker than that.”

“Oh, believe me, I was,” his partner pointed out, wrenching her blade free, giving it a twirl, and sliding it back into the holder on her waist. “I just suddenly remembered you need your hands to do your whole archery thing.”

“And other fingery things of equal renown,” Clint said, tearing his slice in two and offering a portion to Nat. When she blinked at him, he edged it closer. “Go on, you know you want it.”

“I swear you’re too soft,” she snapped, snatching the pizza all the same.

“You would’ve done the same for me—” Clint started.

“Not with pizza,” Nat interrupted with a solemn expression, “especially not with extra cheese pizza.”

“—and I don’t think being soft is a problem I’ve ever had,” Clint finished supremely, as though Nat had never spoken. “Straight as an arrow and twice as thick, isn’t that what you used to say?”

Instead of answering, Nat focused entirely on her pizza, utilizing her tongue in a grandiose display that was both highly provocative and completely uncalled for. Still, even as she arched her back and let slip little teasing moans of pleasure, Clint had to marvel at the practiced skill. No one in their right mind could ever say that the Black Widow lacked in the art of seduction.

When you could make eating pizza look triple-x rated, skill spoke for itself.

“You’re new little girlfriend is quite the unexpected prude, though, I must say,” Nat commented offhandedly, holding her crust between two fingers and swiveling ever so slightly from side to side in her chair. “Missionary for the sole purpose of recreation and all that PG stuff… it’s rather boring, isn’t it?”

Polishing off his half and sucking on his fingers, Clint gave an apathetic shrug. “Depends on your definition of boring, yeah? She just needs to be shown other, um… opportunities—and that kinda thing takes time. You of all people oughta know how that goes,” he said, grinning when Nat rolled her eyes. “In the meantime, the stability is there. The love, the care… it’s nice, a little chunk of something I didn’t know was missing or that I even wanted. And hey, she loves doing the naked-apron-while-cooking thing,” he added almost dreamily.

“You wouldn’t even like that if it weren’t for me,” Nat responded, jabbing a thumb at her chest, which was revealing its usual amount of tantalizing cleavage. It was such an everyday occurrence that Clint was more or less numb to seeing it. “I tried to tell you how awesome it was but you were all “noooo, that can’t be, that sounds stupid”,” she said in a mocking yet almost perfect rendition of Clint’s mannerisms. “Then I do it and bam, you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“In my defense,” the master archer began, lifting a finger, “you were so unnaturally sexy virtually anything you did led to me being unable to keep my hands off you.”

“Were?” Nat noticed with all the quickness of a cheetah, and her eyes zeroed in on Clint before narrowing into threatening slits. “What’re you trying to say there, pal? That I’m not sexy anymore?”

Beyond the ire that one could almost see manifesting itself into a black cloud around Nat, Clint was suddenly aware of the fact that their ‘after work’ pizza was finished. It was a long-standing tradition of theirs to grab some food after they were done with whatever mission or directive S.H.I.E.L.D had laid out for them to complete. It gave them time to unwind, to get some food in their system, and to just catch up; it was a moment that the two of them had more than once stated was the only saving grace where their jobs were concerned. A little slice of heaven to carve through the darkness and monotony.

“You are one of the sexiest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet, romance, and taste,” said Clint with that blunt honesty of his, sharp as an arrow and twice as piercing, and the cloud of rage beginning to rumble above Nat seemingly evaporated. She looked taken aback by his claim, even perhaps a little pleased given the way she rolled her eyes. “You’re just not the sexiest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet, romance, and taste.” He smirked when that self-satisfied expression of hers turned into a funny little scowl. “You’re a firm number two.”

“Fair enough,” Nat said, automatically knowing who rightfully sat in his number one spot. Her eyes fell down to where their extra large supreme pizza had once sat, glorious and steamy, now reduced to a cold, greasy circle. She idly tapped the table with a few fingers, lost in thought, until finally uttering, “Next time… we gotta work harder on that name….”

That wasn’t what she had originally planned on saying… she knew it, and so did Clint, who responded by slapping the table and bringing his legs down. “You’re crazy, Black Hawk is marketable. You’ve even got top billing there, Nat, you should be happy.”

“I don’t want my name attached to such mediocrity, thanks, goofus.”

Climbing to his feet was ridiculously harder the second time around. The adrenaline had yet to wear off from earlier, he’d still been running on high-octane “yee-haw” energy. Now, as his knees wobbled with a desire to sink back into his chair, Clint could feel his muscles beginning to tighten, the bruises that his clothes hid were starting to throb without mercy….

“You’ll come around,” he got out with an affirming nod, “and hey, if you don’t like it, you could always, I dunno, toss something up. Something besides Black Eye,” he reiterated the moment Nat parted those beckoning lips. She crossed her arms looking pouty and he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t do that, you’re too cute for wrinkles, Natty.”

It was never fun, when the pizza was gone, when the laughs were had, and the call to return to their normal lives—if such a term existed for either of them—could no longer be ignored. The only solace to be found was that there would be more meetings, more times to catch up… more opportunities to bask in the others calming presence.

Because despite the fact that Clint had a new girlfriend, one whom he loved more than he thought was possible, he knew his soulmate was the crimson-haired woman currently side-glancing at him through her lashes. It wasn’t a secret by any means, the both of them already knew that if it weren’t for their differing fields of work, the fission that drove them apart would have never occurred.

“But… some things just aren’t meant to be,” Nat muttered under her breath, reaching up to grip him tightly by the forearm.

“Hm? What’s not?” Clint asked, confused.

“That name,” she responded evenly, without a shred of hesitation. “I’m sorry, it just keeps the rounds in my mind, over and over like a broken record.”

There was very little doubt that Nat was lying through her perfect teeth. Clint had known her long enough to be able to spot her lies and deflections with an accuracy that rivaled his skill with the bow. And because she was indeed trying to throw him off, it gave Clint all the clues he needed to parse what she had been thinking about.

“Sleep on it, we’ll get there,” he told her with verve, adding a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing his hand. The action was purposefully slow, slow enough so that his arm slid right through her grasp until they were hand-in-hand, their fingers interlocked. “Love ya, Nat.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah….”

After wishing her luck on her next mission, Clint was halfway through stumbling out the door when he heard it, begrudgingly uttered but filled with enough emotion to let him know she meant it:

“Love you, too… you goofus.”

#marvel #hawkeye #blackwidow #clint #natasha #clintasha #clint barton #natasha romanov #coffee #pizza

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

no bc angel would be so turned on but she needs to act like she’s still annoyed at demonrry 😳😳

She’d shift across her feet and instinctively clench her thighs, but would glare at him to cover it up. “You broke the handle on the door.”

“Really?” Harry quips sarcastically as he tosses the shiny knob onto the counter casually, not bothering to check where it lands. The metal clinks emptily against the marble slab and rolls to a stop at the edge of the sink. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

The demon gives the angel a long, curious gaze, and it feels as if he’s wriggling his way into her head through her irises, reading the dirty thoughts she’s working so hard to conceal. His calculating stare eventually causes her to flit her eyes away shyly, her cheeks tender and ears hot.

Harry suddenly scoffs, shaking his head in amusement as he leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his strong chest comfortably. The amber flecks around his pupils gleam tauntingly as he speaks. “You liked it.”

Y/N can’t help the way she immediately becomes defensive, her words bursting out of her mouth in a surge of white hot defiance. “What? No, I didn’t.”

One of her boyfriend’s eyebrows slinks upwards in challenge. “Yes, you did. Loved it, in fact.”

“I didn’t.”

“Mm.” He hums absently as he studies her just as adamantly as before, his rosy lips pursing in thought. After a moment of deep examination, his tone comes out with more arrogance than she thought him capable of wielding (which says a lot, considering arrogance is Harry’s favorite weapon, second only to his blade). “You want to fuck me so bad right now.”

Y/N sputters in sheer disgust, not so much at the comment itself, but more so at the pompous attitude he’d used to deliver it. “You’re so stupid!”

“Your thighs are clenched and you looked away when I tried to make eye contact.” Harry states flatly, as if the implications of her actions should be obvious. “You only do that when you’re horny, but don’t want to show it.”

His girlfriend chews into her cheek to ward off a surrendered grimace, conjuring up whatever weak defense she can to divert the conversation. “So you’re an expert in body language now, is that it?”

“Not all bodies.” The left corner of Harry’s mouth lifts into a sly smirk, his eyes grazing down her figure suggestively as the whites around his irises tinge midnight black. “Just yours.”

#demonrry!ask #demon!harry

[snowblossomreads]

No Place Like Home

Summary: In where Severus finds that home is not just a place but with people who care for him. (Prompt 1 Home For Christmas)

Pairing: Celestine Faye (OC) x Severus Snape

Warning(s): None just people loving on Severus the way he deserves and him being receptive of it 😤, wait jk just one i guess, former student/ former professor relationship?

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: HAPPY RICKMAS GUYS! Thank you to the lovely @deepperplexity for hosting this and sharing her stories!!! This is prompt one 'Home for Christmas' which I put a little spin on I guess. If you just want some fluffy times you're about to get it : D. It's mostly just Severus reminiscing/ his thoughts so there isn't really a plot to it.

A/N: Also also! The spoken words in italics are meant to be in Mandarin I was just too lazy to input the romanization of the words :) just in case folks wanted to know. (Is this self indulgent, of course it is everything I write is). Alright, off you go!

Stepping foot onto the marble floors of MACUSA reminded Severus that this was the first time he had been back here since what he deemed the worst possible year of his life. From having a school full of kids rebelling, and rightfully so, against him and what he had done, to being attacked by that wretched snake and almost dying. It hadn’t been great and it didn’t help that the year before that wasn’t much better but he digressed. 

It took him almost half a year to recover in such a way that he was able to do nonstrenuous activities with the help of a cane and almost a full year before he could walk and move around without having to use a cane for an extended period of time. 

Slowly and slowly he began to feel like himself again even if there were some pains here and there that had him lying in bed for an entire day. He wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said that if it wasn’t for the help of Celestine, who was bundled up next to him with her arms laced around his own arm as a tiny smile played on her features, he wouldn’t be walking about at that moment. 

From her constant presence to the warmth and affection she showed him every day of his healing process. To the gentleness and peace, she afforded him when he was in tears from the pain of his ailments and the processing of everything that happened. She had been his saving grace and he was more than grateful to her. Even when she would tease him, in a very playful manner of course, about becoming emotional from her care.

But with her care came the unfortunate side effect of her having to miss out on the holidays with her family for another year. Even with his reassurance that he would be okay for a few days alone she absolutely refused to leave his side. He had even offered up the idea of having her family come to the cozy cottage that actually belonged to them. 

While Celestine had entertained it her mother put her foot down out of concern more than anything. Or so he was told as all he could hear from the fireplace was a shout of displeasure that only a mother could make which devolved into them conversing loudly in her mother's native tongue. 

He later learned that her mother didn’t want to bother them while he was still freshly healing worried that the numerous people that would be going in and out of the house would agitate him. It was also one of the moments that made his chest constrict, in a nonpainful manner that is, as it felt odd to have so many people just fuss over his health. In the past, he would roll his eyes at these inquiries because he was quite capable of caring for himself (Celestine would respectfully disagree) but now as much as he was embarrassed to admit, it felt kind of nice.

What also felt strange yet comforting was when they both finally arrived at her parent's house, before they could even open the door, it was flung wide open to reveal the beaming expression of her mother.

“Mama!” Celestine’s voice rang brightly in his ears as she threw herself into her mother’s arms and buried her head into the older witch's neck in a childlike manner.

It was a sweet sight for him to witness as her mother pressed a kiss on top of her head before rubbing and patting her back as a soft but enthused,

“Oh, my precious baby is back!” Leaving her before she gave her one more kiss before letting the younger witch go and looking up fondly at Severus whose lips quirked up in a small smile. While he didn’t know exactly what she had said, from the giddiness on her face, he could tell how joyful Celestine was and it made him feel the same funnily enough.

“Severus!” 

“Mei. Thank you for having me over again.” He murmured, leaning down so the older witch could place a quick peck on his cheek

“Oh don’t act so polite Severus,” Mei chuckled as they pulled away. “You are always welcomed here, now inside both of you!” She directed, waving them in and chattering on. “Your dad is in the living room waiting. He kept pacing back and forth waiting for you and it got really annoying so I’m glad you’re here.”

“Mom, you know how dad is when he’s waiting for anything,” Celestine pointed out as they entered the house before looking to Severus giving him the gist of what had been said. “She hates when my dad gets antsy and won’t just sit down; it drives her mad.”

“Don’t I know the sort,” he answered, his eyes glinting as they landed on Celestine who caught his gaze and puffed her cheeks in indignation up at him.

“I do not pace Severus!” A little huff left her as she swatted him gently causing her mother to let out a clipped laugh shaking her head. It was a bit infectious and Severus couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the pout on the younger witch's face.

“Don’t tell me your father passed that on to you too! It’s just one of those things that I can’t get over! You think the older he gets he would calm down but oh no,” the older witch griped good naturedly as she pulled her wand out and pointed to two pairs of slippers that floated over to their feet. “I love your father to death but-.” 

She didn’t get to finish her thought because as if summoning the older wizard with her complaints against him, the hallway was suddenly filled with a booming, 

“Is that my little sweetpea I hear!”

All of their attention turned at once towards the source of the greeting and Severus couldn’t help but fondly observe how Celestine’s face brightened at the sound of her father.

“Dad!” She chirped, shuffling over towards his outstretched arm and being engulfed in just as tight of a hug as the one her mother had given her.

“Oh look at you! Finally coming to visit your old man haven’t you!”

“Dad,” her tone was a bit exasperated as she pulled away from his suffocating hug and raised an eyebrow at him, “why are you acting like you didn’t see me just a few months ago.”

He didn’t seem at all phased by her annoyed tone, as indicated by the wide smile on his features as he planted a kiss on the top of her head and forehead. 

“Your dad is an old wizard Celestine so I never know if I’m going to just wake up like old Binns one day!”

“Dad!” “Jasper!”

Both Celestine and Mei were staring at the older man with an identical deadpan expression as he grinned at them before his eyes turned on Severus who had been watching the amusing moment between father and daughter.

“And Severus!” The older wizard exclaimed, causing said man to jolt a little as Jasper strode over to him, grin still large and beaming directed at him. “So glad you’re here. Me and Mei were discussing you just the other day. Quite happy to see you are doing well my son!”

Son? 

Now that was a surprising title as it hadn’t been a secret that Jasper hadn’t been a fan of the younger wizard the first time they met. Not only was Severus dating the older man’s only daughter, but there had been the unfortunate implication of him having been Celestine’s professor for about three years that had her father losing it. Of course, Severus wasn’t surprised that he thought the worst (even if it was very inaccurate) and absolutely blew up on him, almost trying to duel him wildly enough. 

It was only thanks to Mei chiding her husband for his childish behavior and demanding he sit down and listen did they finally end up with a slightly amicable relationship. Amicable enough it seemed that her father demanded that they take the countryside cottage that the family owned when Severus was finally allowed to leave St.Mungo’s to heal in peace. 

Still, though, it seemed like both Severus and Celestine had missed the notice of her dad's new tune about Severus. Her head jerked back just a little when she heard the title and she just stared back and forth between her dad and Severus before a wide grin blanketed her expression. Jasper who was a bit confused by the sudden silence continued to wear that cheerful grin that mirrored his daughter’s as he looked back and forth between the young couple.

“What, why are you two being silent like that?” He asked looking back to Celestine who was just smiling “You’re being weird sweetpea did I say something wrong?” He turned back to Severus who of course had always been one to hide his emotions and could only offer a half smile back to the older wizard. 

Honestly, Severus didn’t know how to feel about that title considering he hadn’t had a great relationship with the people who first called him ‘their son’. Yet while the title did come out of left field, something stirred in his chest when Jasper said it with such joy. And also he and his wife had discussed him. About what? He really didn’t know how to react and it was of course Mei who came to the rescue of everyone and was quick to break the silence by rushing everyone out of the hallway saying, 

“Come on, come on, I set out some tea and snacks for us! The rest of the family won’t be here till later so you’ll just have to settle for us two right now!”

Once they were rushed and settled in the living room, Celestine by his side and her parents sitting opposite them on the opposing couch he didn’t once imagine how amused he would be with the chatter. Both of them were swift to mention how delighted they were that Severus could make it and be a part of their family get together for that Christmas. And he also had to reassure Mei that he would be okay, though he wasn’t sure how much she believed him as he could see the worry in her furrowed brows.

In the past, he would have found this absolutely vexing. The incessant questioning of if he was well or not. But he found himself surprised yet again when he felt that stirring reoccur while his lips tugged upward as if to reassure the older witch. Studying her just for a second, he watched her relax a bit before they dove into general pleasantries that turned into reminiscing and teasing the younger witch about her childhood habits.

“She was an absolute mummy’s girl when she was growing up surprisingly!” Jasper spouted as he stroked his beard in that ‘i’m reminiscing’ way while looking into the distance. “ Never wanting to be 5 feet away from her and always throwing a fit when Mei had to stay away for an extended time. Nearly broke a vase with her shrieking one day she did!”

“Dad, stop!” Celestine whined, sinking into the sofa and placing a hand on her face to hide to shield herself from embarrassment. 

“Oh, he’s right, you know. I’ve never heard a child scream so loud in my life! I had first thought one of the Mandrakes got unplanted! Scared me to death!”

“Mom you too?!” 

They all laughed at the huff of disapproval coming from the young witch as her hands dropped from her face to aim a pointed glare at her parents before she too broke and began to laugh along with them. And again funnily enough he laughed too, and it felt strange how easy it came to him. It wasn’t an uncomfortable or cold laugh. It was mirthful, cheerful, almost, and warm.

He felt warm as they all laughed and chatted happily, finding himself relaxed enough to even tell little stories of his own and being pleased with the laughter it garnered. Initially, he thought it would feel awkward being here trying to keep up the conversation with the boisterous couple. But it didn’t. 

Nothing about it felt involuntary, other than the enjoyment he was feeling which if he was honest, he didn’t mind at all. Just being here, and being able to laugh after such a tragic time the past few years had brought in its wake felt refreshing. And what was more wonderful and had him lowering any of the reservations he had was being able to see the glow in Celestine’s face as she looked up and gave him a tiny smile before going back and joining her parent's antics.

All of it felt good. Better than anything he thought he would ever deserve. And even if he was far away from the place he had spent most of his life at. He would be remiss if he didn't admit that at that moment, nothing else felt like home other than being with them.

A/N: I'm firmly in the camp of after Voldy becomes kitty litter, Sev is so relieved and he starts to open up. Is he still an absolutely sarcastic grump a lot of the time, yes. But is he also receptive to love from people he knows truly care about him yes 😤Especially when it's his S/O parents because they are his parents now whether he asked or not.

Let me know if you guys enjoyed it! I have just a few more prompts I'll be writing for (bc im slow at it) so I hope you all stop by for them to!

#rickmas2022 #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #blossom writes