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moonstruckme · 5 months

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Busybody

summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help

cw: anxiety

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of.

It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to.

By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week.

“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.”

“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”

Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?”

“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?”

“Yeah. Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?”

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?”

You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?”

“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.

“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?”

You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.”

“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed.

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.”

Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.”

You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up.

“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.”

“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.”

“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.”

“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly.

“Still tired, baby?”

“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.”

You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive.

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.”

Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?”

“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”

You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yeah?” he sniffs too.

You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease.

“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”

You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”

“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.”

It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.”

“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?”

“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look.

“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway.

“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.

“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?”

You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”

Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.”

You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.”

“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”

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floswife · 10 months

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“MAKE ME”- H.J.P x READER

Warnings: fluff, rivals to lovers, idiots in denial that they’re in love, Harry being stupid bc why not

Pairing: Harry James Potter x reader

Author’s Notes: idk I just felt a little silly 🤷‍♀️

Summary: Harry can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around Y/n

Harry and Y/n never really got along. Why? Godric knows. It’s been going on for as long as anybody could remember to the point that the origins often varied amongst everybody.

“Oh! It was because Harry accidentally hexed her hair to be snakes.”

“It’s because she struck him by lightning to match his scar.”

“He got a bludger thrown at her during one of their quidditch practices!”

“She dressed up as you know who for a costume party once!”

None of those reasons were the actual origin of their feud, though they were actual events that had occurred.

The irony was that they should’ve gotten along perfectly well together on paper, both being in Gryffindor, both on the quidditch team, both hated by Snape (though Snape hated almost everybody except for green eyes redhead Gryffindor girls) and they both had many mutual friends between them.

They were just constantly at each others throats, it was like it was a game for the two. They definitely did always argue with a wide smile on their face.

Take today for example, it was quidditch practice and like usual, they were arguing.

“Potter, I swear to Merlin I’ll bat this bludger at you!” Y/n pointed her bat threateningly at him. The rest of the team had learnt to ignore them at that point, learning that they just work better motivated by their frustration at each other.

Harry just threw his arms up, “do it, l/n, we all know it’s an empty threat anyways because you’ll miss my face again.”

She gave him a scandalised look, “again?! Who said I ever missed your face, scarhead?”

“Ron! The last time I went to the hospital wing.” Harry grinned triumphantly as she glared at Ron at his spot by the goal to which he just observed the sky with mild interest.

“Do you know how vague that is? You’re in the hospital every other day, attention whore.” She huffed and crossed her arms.

It was then that they got shouted at by Wood to actually partake in practice to which they finally listened.

After practice where everyone was going to the changing rooms, Harry trailed after her and spoke in a sing song voice behind Y/n, “you missed me.”

She turned around with a light scowl on her face, “shut it Harold.”

He had his stupid smirk on his face that often found it’s way there when he was around there as he stepped closer to her, she stayed still, “oh yeah? Make me.”

His emerald eyes flitted to her lips and she felt her heartbeat pick up at the decreasing amount of personal space between them, “bet.”

His smile widened at her response but not for long as she pulled out her wand and wordlessly did a spell to seal his mouth shut.

In a moment of pure panic she just rushed into the changing room, did i seriously just hex a boy after almost kissing him?

As anybody would after hexing a persons mouth shut after almost kissing them, Y/n avoided Harry. Dodging him in hallways, quite literally jumping into random classrooms (though that was a one time thing after seeing a couple of seventh years exchanging spit in there).

Later in the common room, she was curled up in the corner with her knees to her chest, reading a book to calm her nerves, while also covering her face with said book.

This half assed disguise clearly did nothing for her because Ron sat right on the chair next to her.

“Y/n! My dorm now!”

She gave him an indignant look, “Ronnil Wazlib! Me and you need to have words about what you spilled to Harold you little rat!”

Ron just shook his head at her exasperatedly.

“Don’t shake your head at me like I’m your nan with dementia, I will tell ‘mione about your undying love for her!”

His eyes widened and he clasped a hand over her mouth, “just shut up and go up to my dorm.”

She threw her hands up in surrender and got up to go to his dorm, she walked into his dorm first and as soon as she turned to ask him what he wanted to talk about, the door shut in her face, she tried to open it but it was locked. She tried to magically unlock it, but it didn’t work.

Her blood ran cold when she realised her mistake, Harold.

She turned to see him sitting on his bed and he wordlessly patted the spot next to him.

She furrowed her brows but listened all the same as she sat down next to him, “that’s a little too much effort to just talk to me, Potter, just say you love me at this point.”

He gave her a deadpan stare and she then realised he was still hexed so she pulled out her wand and undid it. She gave him an apologetic look.

“Why did he try so hard to get me in here with you?” She asked curiously.

Harry seemed to contemplate what he was gonna say before he finally said, “well I’m not gonna say I’m in love with you but I can say that I like you. A lot actually.”

She gave him an incredulous look, “Excusé moi?”

He just nodded, “you’re brilliant and beautiful and smart and funny and I like you. And I think- no I know you like me too.”

She furrowed her brows, “how can you be so sure about that?”

He pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face and kept his hand cupping the side of her face, “because I know you.”

For once she didn’t argue against him and when he leaned in this time, she let their lips touch and she melted into the kiss. His lips were soft against hers and although they spent years with such animosity towards each other, it seemed to now just turn into blind affection as they naturally sank into each others arms.

When they pulled away with soft smiles still on each others faces, she spoke, “and you tried to get on my case for missing you in the hospital wing?”

Harry’s face lit up even more if that was possible, “so you did miss me!”

She rolled her eyes, “that was not new knowledge, get over it!”

He laughed and she decided to shut him up for the second time that day, except not with magic this time, but with another kiss.

It was then that Ron decided to burst in to the room, “have you guys killed each other ye- Merlin!”

He gasped at them as they jumped apart from each other. Harry looking proud while y/n looked slightly ashamed.

She threw a pillow at him as he ran off shouting for everyone saying he had money to collect.

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter fluff #harry james potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #idiots in love #idiots in denial #enemies to lovers #harry james potter x reader #harry potter blurb #daniel radcliffe gif #daniel radcliffe #daniel radcliffe x reader

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kleftiko · 8 months

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❦ THE SMUGGLER

cw: none, this is fluff

he hears you scrambling around in your office. the door he just knocked on muffled your doings, but the surprising crash he hears is clear.

you open the door partially.

“hi, captain.” your smile is wide.

though his face is bored, levi can’t help but feel amused. his eyes glance around what little he could see of your room with you blocking the entrance.

“may i come in.” he says. not asks—says.

“uh—“ you look around at something he can’t see “—no—um, no, sir—my room is a mess right now. i know how much you hate that.”

“i can help you clean it.” there’s a lift to his voice that only ever happens because he has a soft spot for you.

“no, no.” you assure. “that’s okay, i can—“

something falls in your room.

the look of horror on your face has him raising an eyebrow.

“what was that?” he lowers his voice a bit.

“oh? uh—just one of my books that—“

but you don’t get to finish. levi pushes the door in, forcing you to take a step back and let him into your office.

as he looks around, he notes that you’re lying about the mess (obviously). with how many times levi comes over for a cup of tea, you’ve never let the place get dirty. the only semblance of disorganization is a couple of books on the floor, like you said, and a small, orange cat atop of them, rubbing its back against the hard covers.

it’s soft purring is the only sound in the room after levi shuts the door.

he stares at it. then you. then it again.

“um…” you try to find words. but he doesn’t let you, instead, levi walks up to the cat, bends down to shoo it away with a low ‘excuse me’ and places your books back on the shelf.

when he stands up, the cat is rubbing itself against his legs.

“is this what you were hiding under your jacket this morning?” he ask, a look of slight disappointment on his features.

you nod.

he pitches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes with a defeated sigh. the cat continuing to give him affection even though he’s physically ignoring it.

“and why did you think this was a good idea?” he stays in that position.

you mumble something.

“speak up, brat.” he says.

you scoop up the cat in front of him, holding it up so he can see and repeating what you said.

“she’s cute.” there’s a pleading look on your face.

levi’s eyes flit between yours and the cats, feeling like you both are giving him the same begging eyes, and he hates that he doesn’t have it in him to say ‘no’ to either of you.

“you took it cause it’s cute.” he repeats and you nod with a small smile.

he grabs the top of your head and leans towards you, disinterested look still on his face as he surveys you.

“you’re lucky you’re cute, brat.” he says before letting go.

you triumphantly grin and release the cat. she gracefully lands on the floor before going back to cuddling up to your captain.

“is that why you keep me around?” you ask, in a better mood now that you know he’s not gonna make you get rid of her.

“the only reason.” he confirms, but you know it’s a lie.

“wanna know her name?”

“no.” he’s quick to say.

#aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fluff

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wzrd-wheezes · 7 months

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Sharing - Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - this was supposed to just be a Sirius smut but then my finger slipped and it turned into a threesome. This is filthy so read at your own risk. I’ll list the warnings below and as always, minors dni. (also i literally didn’t proof read this because tbh i couldn’t be arsed so sorry x)

contains: kind toxic!sirius/ fuckboy!sirius. friends with benefits, so much sex, oral and anal lol. dirty talk, degradation, dumbification kinda, choking and just general filth. read at ur own risk <3

Sirius let himself into Y/N’s flat, as he often did. It was a wonder that he didn’t have the spare key given the fact that he came over nearly every night. He walked into the living room confidently, the room instantly filling with the scent of his aftershave. Y/N was lounging on the sofa, curled up in the corner with a book clutched in her hand. She barely looked up when he came in, he only got her attention when he was stood right in front of her.

He was tall, he towered over Y/N by at least a foot and was broad in the shoulders, his black hair falling in waves just below his chin. His eyes were dark, rimmed with thick dark lashes that stared down at Y/N. Even though she wasn’t his girlfriend, he treated her with a possessive air that bordered on territorial, constantly flirting and placing a possessive hand on her back or hip whenever he could manage in.

“We meet again.” He finally spoke, his voice like a siren song. Y/N felt her heart rate speed up, her ears burning from the heat rising in her body, “What are you reading? Is it any good?” he asked, cocky smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flitted down her body, settling on the book in her hand.

“Yeah it is actually,” Y/N finally looked up at him properly and quickly flashed him the cover of her book, “Remus lent it to me.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Sirius chuckled, sitting next to her on the sofa and resting on of his hands on her hip. His lips curled up into a mocking smile as he looked down at her, still taller than her even sitting down. Despite his smile, his eyes had a serious glint, “How is Remus, anyways?”

“He’s fine.” Y/N looked back down at her book, “He’s your best friend, you should know.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, haven’t you?” Sirius asked, ignoring her last comment. His hand wandered upward, settling on her side above her hip. There’s a look in his eyes that makes her insides tighten and her whole body stiffens up in response.

“We’re friends.”

“Are you sure that’s all that you are?” His eyes travelled down her body, his smirk never leaving his face, “Because I think that there is... something else between you.” He paused, his gaze drifting back up to meet her own. The look in his eyes made her breath hitch.

“There’s not.” Y/N sighed, used to having been through this before, “I’m not sure why you’d be bothered if there was.” She closed her book and reached over to place it on the coffee table. Sirius’s hand never left her waist the whole time.

“I’m not bothered at all.” he said smoothly, “I’m just curious.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, she knew instantly that it was a lie. She’d seen his competitive side many times before and was used to the way that he would get incredibly possessive over her.

“I think you’re lying, love.” his hand creeped up to cup her cheek, his thumb softly brushing over her skin, “I know you’ve been spending more time with him, and I know that you’re not just going over to swap books like you tell everyone.” he continued, his voice husky.

“So, what?” Y/N turned to face him properly, “I’m not your girlfriend?”

“You know that I don’t want to share.”

“That’s hilarious,” she scoffed, “I know full well that you’re also sleeping with other people.”

“I can see and sleep with other girls.” he replied, his expression unchanging, “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I just don’t like it when you do it.”

He pulled her closer to him, his body pressing against hers. His fingers searched for the bottom of her shirt tugging at it slightly to expose some of her midriff and trailed his fingers down her bare skin. He pulled her so she was entangled in his arms, her head leaning against his chest.

“Did you sleep with Remus?” he pressed. Y/N didn’t reply and Sirius just cocked an eyebrow at her, “I knew you had something going on. I’m not stupid and I don’t miss anything. I always know when you’re trying to hide something from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Just didn’t think you’d appreciate me telling you that I was sleeping with your best mate.”

“Oh, I already knew.” Sirius smirked, “He told me the other day, I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. He was so infuriating sometimes. He had this air about him that just seemed to get him whatever he wanted. He was like a spoiled child that wasn’t used to not getting his own way or being told no.

“Was it good?” he asked, his voice low. He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair.

The girl just nodded in response, not really knowing how to reply properly. She avoided his eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that he was making her flustered. Sirius’s fingered tightened in her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her.

“Tell me about it.” he breathed, bending down towards her, “Did you like how he touched you? How he kissed you?” His voice was dark and hoarse, and she could sense the jealous and possessiveness rolling off of him.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where Sirius Black gets jealous.” Y/N laughed, trying to take control of the situation.

“I’m always jealous.” his voice was softer now, “Jealous of the things and the people that you give your attention to. I always want to be the only one that you have eyes for. That’s how it should be. His face was so close now that their noses were almost touching. He drew her close to him, his hands sneaking up her shirt and running down her bare back. He trailed his lips across her cheek and the soft whisper of his breath made her shiver.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.” he chuckled, “You love my touch, my attention... and I bet you loved Remus touching you as well.”

“Shut up.”

“Is this making you a bit uncomfortable?” The grin on his face widened and his eyebrows raised. He leaned closer again, his lips brushing against her ear, “You loved it, didn’t you? You like when Remus touched you... touched you where only I’m allowed.”

“Tell me... did you like it?” His breath caught for a moment, the note of possessiveness back in his voice, “Did you like his hands on your skin, his lips on yours?”

“Yes! Fine! Yes, I liked it!” Y/N exclaimed, defeated by his relentless questioning.

“Do you want it to happen again?” he whispered, “Would you allow it, if he was here right now?”

“What? Here with you as well?”

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling again, “I could allow it. Would you like that, love?” His head dipped down and he caught her lips with his own, pulling her lower lip into his mouth with his teeth.

“Answer me.” he pulled away from her, “Would you like me and Remus?”

“Y-yeah...”

Sirius’s eyes flicked for a brief moment and the look of sheer elation on his face was almost comical. He crashed his lips against hers once again, this time the kiss was harsh and messy. His tongue forcing it’s way into her mouth and clashing against hers.

“Are you sure you can handle the two of us, darling?” he leaned back and his face twisted into a cocky grin, “That’s a lot to handle, you know.” his hand slid from her side to the back of her neck, bringing her close to him once more. With his other hand, he traced the fabric of her shirt, the tip of his finger just lightly brushing the skin of her stomach.

“I want to. I’m sure.”

“Oh, I know you want to.” he grinned, “So when should he come? Should I call him right now?”

“Y-yeah. Call him now.”

“You’re quite eager, aren’t you? You want him that bad already?” his eyes flickered down her neck, “Makes me wonder what else you’d be willing to do with a little motivation.”

Sirius grinned at her, his eyes glittering as he watched her respond. Y/N’s heart was hammering in her chest, her mind whirling from all the possibilities and thoughts racing through it. The dark-haired boy left the room, swiftly shutting the door behind him. Y/N could hear him murmuring as he spoke, presumably on the phone to Remus.

The door swung open and Sirius strutted back into the room, grin once again plastered on his face. This time, however, he didn’t sit back down on the sofa next to Y/N. Instead, opting to lean against the door frame, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“He’s on his way.” he announced, “How about we go to your room and get started? I’ll leave the front door unlocked for him, yeah?”

Y/N nodded and quickly got up, following him into her bedroom. Within seconds, Sirius had her pushed on the bed, sprawled out across the sheets. He climbed on top of her, all but pinning her down beneath him. Hot, messy kisses were pressed against her throat, Sirius’s fingers tangling in her hair.

Y/N jumped as she felt another presence next to her, the bed dipping down slightly as someone else climbed onto it. Another set of fingers weaved into her hair, pulling her head back from where Sirius was kissing her.

“Thought you said you were going to wait f’me?” Remus asked, his voice gruff.

“Couldn’t help myself. You understand, right?” Sirus smirked. Remus grinned back at him.

“You’re sure about this, yeah?” Remus asked, pulling Y/N up so she was sitting in front of them both.

“I’m sure.”

“Good girl.” Remus said, his voice low, “Are you ready for the two of us to ruin you?”

Remus captured her mouth with his, his hand trailing down her side, her stomach tightening at his touch. His lips were warm and soft, but firm, and he wasn’t gentle as he pushed her back down onto the bed.

Sirius moved so that he was sat behind Y/N, her fitting perfectly into the space between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and ducked his head down so he could whisper in her ear.

“Are you going to let him touch you?” he murmured, his eyes flicking to Remus who was making short work of undoing her trousers and shuffling them down her legs, “You going to let him do whatever her wants? Going to let him ruin you?”

“I thought you didn’t like to share?” Y/N said, her voice breathless but still somehow managing to tease him.

“I can make an exception for this,” he shrugged, “And the answer is yes. You’re going to let him do whatever he wants. You’re going to let him touch you anywhere, everywhere. Do you understand?”

Y/N barely got chance to reply as Sirius’s ring clad fingers wrapped around her throat, applying pressure to the sides. Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted slightly. A moan slipped out of her mouth as Remus buried his head between her thighs. Y/N’s body arched against Sirius’s as Remus’s tongue darted across her clit. He looked up at her, his chin glistening with her wetness.

“She’s a good little slut, isn’t she?” Remus said, his hands gently playing over her body.

“Mhm, the best.”

Sirius moved so that she was now laying flat on the bed with him kneeling next to her head. He unzipped his trousers, pulling out his member. He pumped it a few times before lifting her head up to meet it. The tip of it bumped against her lips and she quickly opened her mouth to take him inside. Sirius let out a low groan as her lips wrapped around him, her tongue swirling across the head of his dick.

“Looks so pretty with a cock in her mouth, too.” he said, affectionately stroking her hair as he thrust into her. He laughed when she gagged, one of his thrusts being slightly deeper than she was used to, “What? Too big for you, love?”

Remus chuckled, shuffling up the bed and kneeling the other side of Y/N. Like Sirius, he also removed his trousers, his cock now bobbing in front of her face. Remus’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as she switched between him and Sirius, sucking on each of their dicks for a few moments before swapping to the other one. Whoevers dick wasn’t currently in her mouth was being stroke by her spare hand, not wanting to leave one of the unattended. The room was filled with filthy groan and grunts for the two men as they had their way with her. It was only when Sirius got fed up that they decided to switch positions.

“Can’t wait any longer.” he grunted, “Wanna fuck that arse of yours.”

Y/N was on all fours, Remus positioned underneath her and Sirius knelt behind her, his cock brushing against the globes of her arse as they got into position. Remus pulled her down to kiss him, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Remus rubbed his cock up and down her folds a few times, coating himself in her wetness before finally plunging inside her. Y/N let out a loud moan as she stretched out around him. He gave her a few moments to adjust before starting to move.

They had just found their rhythm when Y/N felt Sirius smear lube over her rare entrance. He gently pushed a finger inside of her, stretching her out so that she was ready for him.

“We’ve done this before, love, yeah? Just like last time.” His voice was much softer now, and he pressed kisses against her shoulders as he slowly started sliding inside of her, “If it hurts too much tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

“It’s fine. Feels good.” Y/N managed to get out.

“You like being filled up by two cocks, don’t you?” Remus smirked, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her to bounce on both of their dicks, “Such an eager little slut.”

“Filthy girl, aren’t you?” Sirius teased, “One of us just wasn’t enough for you, eh? Had to have us both?”

Y/N nodded frantically, too lost in the pleasure of it all to form a verbal response. Her teeth dug into Remus’s collarbone as she bit down to stifle the moans that were threatening to tumble from her lips.

“Don’t hide those pretty noises. We want to hear how dirty you sound, don’t we, Sirius?”

“Of course. Tell us how much you love being ruined by us.” he grumbled, “Or have we fucked you too dumb to speak?” The two men increased the pace of their thrusts, chuckling as Y/N tried to form coherent sentences to answer them.

“Feels so good.” Y/N gasped, “L-love being ruined by you both.”

“Clever girl.” Remus praised her, “But clearly we aren’t fucking you hard enough if you can still talk.”

Remus and Sirius both looked at each other, seeming to telepathically create some form of plan. Their thrusts became relentless, plunging deep inside her simultaneously, barely giving her chance to breath. Sirius’s hands wandered up to grip her throat again, pulling her back so he could get a better look at her face.

“I want to be the one that gets to see that pretty face as you cum around us.” His teeth grazed against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and causing her to groan. Y/N just nodded frantically in response, her holes clenching around them both. Remus’s hands were still planted on her waist, guiding her up and down on his cock and Sirius slammed into the back on her. Her eyes began to roll back as she climbed the peak, her body growing weak and relying on them to hold her upright.

“Gonna cum inside of you at the same time, yeah”? Sirius groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Gonna fill up those holes of yours.” Remus continued.

“Fuck.” Y/N moaned, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm came crashing down on her. Her breath quickened and she panted as they both continued to pound into her, chasing their own highs.

Strangled moans came from both men as they reached their peaks, their thrusts eventually slowing down. Sirius collapsed down on the bed, slipping out of her. The girl laid between them both, all three of them in a panting pile on the bed.

“Y’know what, I don’t think sharing is so bad after all.” Sirius laughed.

#remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #remus x sirius x reader #remus x sirius x reader smut #sirius x remus x reader smut #marauders smut

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thisthatpinkvenom · 1 year

Text

*SHHH!*

COLLEGE BF!SAN / COLLEGE!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: You and your boyfriend are two irresponsible college students who just can't keep your hands to innocent hand-holding. and there seems to be a really pretty witness to your intimate shenanigans.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, smut smut smut

⤏ Content: college couple!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): public fingering, public oral, light dirty talk, light praising because it's always cute <3, getting caught in the act, exhibitionism and voyeurism, these two are freaks please don't do this in real life!!

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

It was on you for foolishly choosing such a discreet spot where other eyes weren't lurking. You should've known better than to trust San to behave himself at a secluded corner of the library. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't be plopped onto the edge of the quaint little desk with him standing between your parted legs.

It's a Thursday evening, and the library was decently occupied; many were huddled in groups with a few exceptions of lone students staring with half-dead eyes at their laptop screens. Soft murmurs and not so subtle crunching on baby carrots aired throughout the building, and you prayed to any divine being listening that your staggering breaths fell on deaf ears. The last time you checked, it was around six o'clock and with the two very much so distracting fingers lunged between your wet walls, you're sure you wouldn't get anything done by the time it became seven.

Bursts of adrenaline rushed through your veins as you teetered on a thin line between fear and pleasure. You didn't even register how you've crinkled a page of the textbook lying open next to you—the one you've tried so hard to keep without damage—as your hand desperately searched for purchase in anything nearby. Your eyes flitted between the view of your lover's hand disappearing at every two beats under your skirt and nervously checking behind his shoulder for any innocent incoming passerby looking for a book. But it lasted only a measly moment until you were gently pulled by your chin, meeting eyes with the lust-filled ones of your boyfriend who pierced you with his gaze.

"Eyes on me, Baby," he coaxed, pressing kisses to both corners of your lips with cute little chu sounds emitting from each one he gave. The hand on your chin fell to your thigh and you momentarily shuddered at his cold touch.

"What if"—you squeaked when his thumb pressed against your clit—"someone, hah, s-sees?"

He smiled a wolfish grin and muttered, "Then wouldn't that be a sight for sore eyes?"

"Sannie," you whined. "It's n-not funny."

"Don't worry, no one's gonna know as long as you keep those pretty little moans to a minimum."

And you wondered how you were supposed to do that when he soon dove into the crook of your neck, licking and nibbling at your skin in hope of leaving a trail of purple and red petals. His fingers never slowed or lost their rhythm, opting to only go faster while your arousal grew embarrassingly louder. You could feel it dripping more and more with each pull of his digits before they sloppily stuffed whatever they could back in.

"You think they can hear that?" he teased, fingers playing around with the wet squelches of your juices through hasty "come hither" motions. "Don't pretend like you don't get off on this just like I do."

He continued, "I know you like spreading your legs for me whenever I ask—you do it so easily."

"S-Sannie, please," you pleaded. You weren't too sure what you were asking for, but you knew he always managed to understand what you needed somehow.

"I know, Baby," he cooed. "Just a little more, okay? You're doing so well."

And just like that, he dropped to his knees and nudged your thigh with his free hand. You knew what he was going to do and clenched your teeth to prepare when—without warning—he attached his lips to your painfully swollen clit. It took all you could muster to not release the most pathetic cry when you took in all the books around you, remembering where you were as you had to be on your best behavior possible. Which in hindsight, it was a little too late to do much when you've got your fingers tangled in a handful of black hair.

His fingers continuously pumped in and out your pussy and his mouth was relentless on your clit, sucking and licking without any other goal but to please you. Though it proved to be difficult to let loose; you couldn't lie back on the table or moan without shame, not when you caught sight of a book being pulled off the shelf from the other side. And your heart fluttered when a face appeared behind the vacant space where the book once was, your own eyes mirroring how the stranger's tripled in size. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't look away from the image of you trembling on the desk, cheeks drenched in tears as your lover's identity was veiled under your skirt, clueless as to who's watching.

It's useless to stop now, there's a fat chance you'll get reprimanded but at least you'll have a mind-blowing orgasm to make up for it. If you were in the right mind, you would've scolded yourself for acting upon your urges; for exposing your dirty deeds to some poor girl. And now she'll know exactly what you look like when you cum, from the way you bit your tongue to conceal your moans and the way your chest heaved while you worked to catch your own breath. But oh, what's that?

She gnawed at her bottom lip, ogling as if she were in a trance, seemingly waiting for you to reach climax. And you liked it.

It was all too much; your boyfriend's face and fingers buried between your legs and the pretty girl perving on your intimacy did all sorts of things to your head. It was coming, you were so close, so close, so close. You were an attention whore, like it or not; you wanted her to watch—watch your legs quiver and your mouth gape open in a silent scream, your gaze boring deep into hers.

You really wanted her to absorb the view, hoping that she found the cum glazed over your pussy pretty. And like the freak you were, you liked the way her cheeks were adorned with pink when San stood up, his lips glistening under the fluorescent lighting as he sucked on his cum-covered fingers. When he caught sight of the extra lingering eyes, she finally turned around, covering the empty gap in the shelf from her suspecting groupmates who quietly pestered her with questions as to what she was staring at. He looked back at you with a smug grin, tongue slipping out to lick your arousal from his lips.

"Looks like someone's been enjoying this too."

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez timestamps #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #kpop smut #san smut #choi san smut #ateez fic #ateez reactions

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megistusdiary · 1 year

Note

MMMMM idk if you write for al haitham— if you don’t ignore this request idm 🙏

anyways if you do write for him,, what about al haitham x fem!reader where someone breaks reader’s heart (kaveh perhaps for the drama) al haitham and reader are best friends and they’ve both had tension between them forever so he offers a little help ☝️ all consensual obviously we love consent here

yes ik this is like my one kaeya ask but i love this trope sm 😭😭

-🔮

oh, i absolutely will write for alhaitham hahaha. he is literally so mf fine idc idc 😇🙏

on my knees for him he is so 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ checks all my boxes

anyways yes, yes, imagine this happening back during his akademiya days oo

but this shit straight up 90% unsexy plot sorry. just wrote this all in one sitting, shawties

warnings: dom!alhaitham and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

friends to lovers, fingering/penetration (sub!receiving), ex kaveh (mentions of cheating sorta), confessions, kissing

you sat beside alhaitham at the library, clicking the top of your pen repeatedly until alhaitham exhaled sharply.

"sorry." you mumbled, setting the pen down as you read over your assignment again.

when your professor announced who the partners for this project would be, it seemed half the class was jealous while half pitied you for being partnered with alhaitham.

you felt like the archons had personally blessed you, however, finally being partnered with the man you considered your best friend.

some might argue it was impossible for alhaitham to ever have a 'best friend. the friendship bracelet matching the one on your wrist that he kept in his pocket begged to differ.

you glanced over at alhaitham, watching him flip through textbooks, letting his eyes barely even graze over the words before turning the pages.

"are you actually trying to learn anything, or just say you looked at the pages as you flipped them?"

"ha ha." alhaitham droned, tone devoid of emotion as he closed the book. "i don't see you making much progress."

"that's because i'm taking the time to actually absorb what i'm reading."

"hmph." alhaitham turned away, sifting through his pile of parchment notes. "we should finish this today. i do not want-"

"woah, woah, hold on." you stopped him, waving your hand in the air. "today? the semester ends next month." you protested. "i actually have other things to do today, you know."

"so do i. it just seems one of us is more efficient than the other." alhaitham scoffed as you rolled your eyes.

"yeah, yeah." you frowned, letting your head flop onto your hand.

"what other things are you doing today, anyways?"

"what? oh, i mean. i'm supposed to go on a date. today." your face felt warm as alhaitham cocked his head, intrigued yet slightly annoyed.

"oh. right. with kaveh."

"he told you about it?"

"i don't know why you're shocked. we live together."

"fair enough. but, yes, that's my very important thing."

"what about the others?"

"huh?" your eyes flitted down to watch alhaitham write down notes about the book he was reading, print perfectly straight and legible.

"you said important things. plural."

"oh." you paused, watching his fingers stop moving as he set his pen down. "i guess more studying as per usual."

"where's kaveh taking you?"

your eyes narrowed as he glanced over at you. "why the sudden interest in my love life?" your heart skipped a beat when alhaitham's eyes met yours.

"fine, no more questions. let's get back to business." alhaitham quickly turned back to his book, leaving you with a heated face and mixed emotions.

truth be told, you did like kaveh, but you also had liked alhaitham for years. no matter how many hints you dropped, though, alhaitham always seemed to dodge them.

and maybe that was the hint meant for you to stop pursuing him.

you had met kaveh earlier in the year. alhaitham never had guests over, so you always spent time at your place. you only ever got to speak to kaveh due to discovering you studied in the same place between classes. one crowded morning, you found yourself sitting together due to a lack of space. and the rest was history.

alhaitham never failed to make your heart flutter with anything he did. despite his witty remarks and snappy comments, he was a gentleman at heart. he always brought you an extra jacket if it was cold, prepared snacks for you, brought you more parchment before you could run out. he was always attentive, even without trying to be.

kaveh was much more easy-going, dropping flirty remarks in all of your conversations. he was very direct about his interest in you, though you were blissfully unaware of his habits to flirt with many people at once.

the rest of the study session carried on in silence, leaving you to finish writing your notes sloppily, hand cramping and exhausted as you slammed your pen down. "okay, i'm tapping out. it's getting late, and i need to go get changed." you told him as he hummed.

"how far did you get?"

"i'm done with page 8." you frowned, turning towards him slowly. "don't even think about making a 'i'm on page 15' comment."

alhaitham's lips quirked up in a faint, yet rare smile that made you smile back shyly. "i'll see you tomorrow."

"i hope your...dinner is pleasant." was all he said, turning back to finish writing his notes as you sighed.

"promise me you're not going to stay here all night. go home and get some rest. you work too hard sometimes, you make me all worried."

alhaitham scoffed, shaking his head. "it's not that i choose not to sleep."

your eyebrows arched at his remark, though he made no further comment, prompting you to collect your things and rush home to change for your date.

you couldn't help but admit you were excited. you had the perfect outfit planned, twirling in front of the mirror to admire it from all angles. and you were ready just in time, hearing three knocks on your door as you announced you were coming to get the door.

"kaveh!" you smiled, gesturing for him to come in.

"ready to go?" kaveh asked, adjusting his hair in the mirror as you grabbed your bag and shoes.

"yeah! sorry i'm running late." you apologized, slipping your shoes on and locking the door behind the two of you. "alhaitham and i are partners for this project, and he wanted to do a bunch today, and i think i can't read anymore."

kaveh laughed, eyes full of mirth. "sounds just like him. typical."

"so, where are we going?"

"you'll see." he smiled down at you, leading the way to a small cafe down the street. "found this place when alhaitham took my key and i couldn't get in to our house." kaveh laughed, opening the door for you.

once the two of you were seated, a waiter approached you rather quickly, greeting kaveh like a close friend. "the usual?" he asked as kaveh nodded. he scribbled something down on his notepad before turning to you.

your eyes widened, trying to take in the menu all at once before kaveh offered to order for you. "trust me, everything's good here, but i'll order the best. you'll love it."

while waiting for the orders, you noticed a few girls passing by on the street, some older couples, and even some stray kitties.

you did not expect someone to stand over your table and eagerly greet kaveh.

"hi, kaveh!"

you jumped, turning to see a girl your age at the table, smiling down at him as he sent her a smirk. "hey, long time no see."

"yeah, it has been pretty long, huh? funny seeing you here."

your eyes flitted in between them, brows furrowed as you took in their conversation. why hadn't she asked about you?

"um, excuse me-"

"can i help you?" she asked, cocking a brow as you frowned.

"we're in the middle of a date...right now..."

she rolled her eyes, shrugging. "okay? kaveh and i went on one like last week."

"what?" you turned towards kaveh who simply nodded. "kaveh, i thought you said we were dating."

"we are." he confirmed. "what's the issue?"

"i thought that meant it was just, i don't know, us..." your frown deepened as the girl held back a giggle.

"don't be ridiculous. just because you're dating someone doesn't mean you own them." she leaned towards you.

"i never thought i owned him- what is your problem?

"hey, maybe you guys should-"

"oh come on, kaveh, what did you tell her? so what, he goes on dates with lots of people. big deal."

"that's fine! i just...i thought we were different. i thought it was special." your eyes started to water and you panicked, begging yourself not to cry in the cafe.

"i didn't realize it was that big of a deal." kaveh awkwardly added, scratching the back of his neck. "most of the time it's just singular dates anyways and-"

you suddenly stood up, brushing the hair away from your face. "i'm going home." you announced, barely controlling your sniffles as kaveh raced to stand up. "don't. you should've just been upfront with me. because...because if i knew it wasn't serious to you from the start, i would've just told you no."

you pulled your coat on, storming off with kaveh hot on your heels. "hey, hey wait up! look i didn't mean to make you cry. i'm sorry-"

"sorry isn't cutting it right now, kaveh. i just- i need space, okay? i didn't realize it was just...dating around to you. i'm not looking to fool around. i thought we were serious."

"we are! but you know how hard commitment is for me, and i really am trying here."

you took a deep breath, finally feeling tears streak down your cheeks. "thank you for trying, okay, but if it's really all that hard for you, then we shouldn't force it."

"what, so it's just done? like that?"

you pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. "yeah. just- just go drink your coffee and talk to that other girl. i can't do this right now."

kaveh watched, finally not following as you walked home, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you sat on a bench in the park, taking a break to wipe your face with your sleeve.

you considered going to alhaitham for comfort, though you figured he'd be the worst person to ask since he lives with kaveh. how were you even going to face him? it all made your head hurt as you sniffled, wiping snot into your sleeves as you took a deep breath.

you could only hope he was still at the library (against your advice) and not at his house. you shielded your face when you walked in, desperately looking for his table. though it seemed he somehow spotted you before you saw him.

he approached you, guiding you towards his table and sitting you down across from him. "what did he do?"

"nothing. it was my own stupid fault for thinking i was the only one."

alhaitham's usual stony facade softened as he leaned over to wipe your tears, smoothing a thumb down your cheek. "kaveh's always been like that. i'm sorry for my roommates stupidity."

"i just...i broke up with him and i left him. what do i do now?" you asked, confused and hurt as alhaitham sighed, leaning back to collect his things in his bag. "what are you doing?"

"i'm taking you home. people are starting to look over here instead of minding their own business. come on." alhaitham gestured for you to stand, holding his arm out for you to take as your lips parted. "are you coming or not?"

you quickly held onto him, cheeks heating up as alhaitham carried your bag for you along with his own bag filled with books. "i can carry my own stuff, you know."

"i can handle it, don't worry about me."

"i always worry about you." you admitted as alhaitham pretended not to hear it, leaving you to frown at your feet. the second you got to your door, alhaitham fished the key out from your purse, opening the door and closing it skillfully with his foot. he set both of your things down, perusing your kitchen for your kettle and something he could make you to eat.

your heart hammered in your chest as you sharply inhaled. "why is it that whenever i try to tell you i like you, you act like i didn't say anything?" you forced out, watching alhaitham freeze in place.

"what are you talking about?"

"i...years. i tried for years. i finally gave up, and when i tried to date someone, i couldn't even do that. we broke up after a month. i couldn't even consider reconciliation because..."

"because?"

"you're such a dick! because i like you, asshole." you snapped, tears springing to your eyes again as alhaitham crossed the room to stand near you. "i- you...you always just act like nothing happened. it fucking hurts-"

he suddenly gripped your chin, moving closer as he pulled you to meet his gaze. "do you really take my fear as a sign of rejection?"

"uh..yeah?"

alhaitham frowned, dragging his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "for that, i humbly apologize then."

"what are you afraid of anyways?"

"you know how much of a perfectionist i can be." he sighed.

"of course."

"i want to be the best for you."

"but you are good already, and-"

"'good' isn't enough. i don't want to be a subpar filler partner. and i certainly don't wish to be 'the one who could have done more.'"

"i don't understand." you told him, exasperated as he leaned towards you, shifting his thumb to trace your jawline.

"i want to be perfect for you. the only person who sees when i stumble and treats me as a human. not as some machine who can never possibly fail, or as a top student with drive only to knock everyone down."

you were shocked, lips parting in surprise as you listened to his sudden confession.

"i wanted to tell you this whole time." you admitted. "i was scared of rejection. i think...i think i only dated kaveh because i thought you didn't care about me. i thought i had no chance with you."

"your thoughts mirror mine then. i thought i wasn't the man you deserved."

"just...shut up and kiss me already." you blurted, neck and ears heating up as alhaitham turned light pink, leaning in and pressing your lips together nonetheless.

you sighed into the kiss as he tenderly cupped your face, feeling your smile against his lips. when he broke away, he pressed his forehead to yours. "i didn't know you were so demanding."

"only because you made me wait for years."

alhaitham kissed you again, stealing your breath when he swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, prompting you to open them for him. you let out a soft moan into the kiss, thighs pressing together as alhaitham groaned.

"i think we should stop here."

"what?" you blinked up at him with confusion. "why?"

"you're getting over kaveh. it's understandable, and a common human trait to-"

"i don't think you understand what i said, alhaitham." you reached up to grip his face, hands tangled into his fluffy hair. "i liked you since we were kids. long before i knew kaveh existed. i liked you all year. i liked you when we ate lunch, when we studied at the library, when we argued over exam scores...if anything i guess i'm guilty of using kaveh to get over you."

"kaveh isn't an innocent party either. he uses people as stress relief from his problems."

"well, you caused me a lot of stress you know." you laughed, shaking your head.

"you're guilty for doing the same to me."

"well, lock me up and take me in then, sir." you laughed, slowly easing up when alhaitham stared down at you differently. "what?"

"you're playing with fire. you should be more careful with your words."

"and what if i meant them?" you smirked, leaning up.

"then you should be aware of how i feel." alhaitham pressed himself against you, allowing to feel the hardness straining against his pants.

"archons...please, please i want you."

"you have me."

"you know what i mean." you frowned as alhaitham smirked ever-so-slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

no more than a few minutes later, alhaitham had you leaned up against his chest, in nothing but your undergarments as alhaitham trailed his fingers over your bare skin.

"sensitive." he hummed as his touch left goosebumps, feeling you shiver.

he gently brushed his fingers over your clothed core, your hips moving against his hand to earn more friction as he held your hips down with one hand. "patience."

"alhaitham, please." you whined, feeling him hook his fingers into the waistband and slide the fabric down your legs.

he carefully spread your thighs, dropping the hand to slide through your wetness as you whimpered, shifting on his lap.

he nibbled along the column of your neck, leaving little bites on your skin as you bared your neck to him, gasping as his tongue slid across the expanse.

his fingers began playing with your clit, feeling your hips jump again as you sighed, trying to chase his touch. "oh, alhaitham, that's good-"

he couldn't help but find you cute as he played with your slick, swirling his fingers around your hole as whines of his name spilled from your lips. "come on!"

"be patient." he warned again, lightly smacking your thigh as you huffed. "i have to prepare you properly first."

you felt him ease a finger into your heat, allowing you to fully adjust before adding another and one more after that, curling them into your g-spot as you writhed against his chest. your hands gripped the fabric of his clothes into your fists, shaking and begging for more as he swiped his thumb across your clit, rubbing in circles as you cried out, moving a hand to grip his wrist tightly.

"oh, archons!" you gasped, back arching when you finally came, hole spasming around his digits as he eased you down from your high. "wow." you sighed, leaning back against him to recover as he hummed, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"i think that can be considered decent preparation."

"i'd say more than just decent."

"flatterer."

you snorted, suddenly being replaced by a gasp when the head of his cock tapped against your hole.

you glanced down, eyes bulging as you saw his dick against you. "you're huge, oh, archons...my classmates said you were packing but i didn't know this much!"

"your friends talked about my proficiency in bed?"

"classmates, not friends. and anyways, yes, but clearly it helped me for once."

alhaitham laughed softly, shaking his head. "take a deep breath and try to relax for me. just focus on being calm." he slowly pushed inside of you, anchoring you to his chest as he slid you down onto his dick, feeling you tighten around him. "relax, relax, please."

alhaitham bit his lip, shaking his head as he continued to try and bottom out, feeling you shiver and shake in his hold, eyes watering.

"you're doing well. i'm proud of you. just keep breathing."

you whined his name, leaning into him as he kissed across your neck and shoulders, "just be good for me, just stay very still and i will meet your every desire."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #al haitham #al haitham smut #alhaitham smut #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#🔮─𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯⋆·˚ ༘

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thedeviltohisangel · 2 months

Text

All The Things I Did

a/n: welp i'm in over my head. accepting prompts.

Every time a plane landed from Greenland, she watched and assessed those who departed from afar. They were always flush with the cold of flying and the excitement of arriving. Chest filled with the pride of reaching the front and the longing to taste the adrenaline of flying in unfriendly skies. She hated watching them deteriorate the longer they were in the English countryside. Hated that no matter how many times she laced up her boots and tread into the darkness and came back with a map or a plan or a snippet of a conversation in Berlin that it was never enough. She chose, deliberately and emphatically, to not try and get to know them.

But then, one day, Major John Egan got off that plane. And he was loud and ever present. He made jokes and sang in the officer’s club and spent days asking around about the Lieutenant that read at the bar and wrote notes in the corner of the interrogation room.

Spook. That is what the men called her. The Colonel had introduced her as an intelligence officer to someone once but no one had been there to verify the designation now. But she fit the bill. Steady demeanor. Whip smart on the off chance she was asked to answer a question before a mission. Quietly discerning even when ordering a Coca-Cola.

She wanted to blend in but Bucky wouldn’t let her. He picked her out almost instantly upon his arrival. Saw her head flitting between buildings and caught her gaze for a moment on his way to Colonel Huglin’s office. A big red folder with SECRET emblazoned across the front.

“Major,” she spoke with a polite nod. She didn’t wait for him to respond in kind before she was off and around the corner like she had never actually been there. He welcomed the challenge.

----

He saw her again that night, sitting at the bar with a half-drank Coke collecting condensation and her nose buried in a book of maps of Western Europe. Music was playing and people were dancing and John was wondering why it felt so normal. Maybe he’d be able to get Buck to loosen up a little once he got here.

“It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant.” But for now, John would settle for learning her name. She curled an eyebrow and cast him a sideways glance, John noticing the red pen in her hand for the first time. “I’ve heard great things about the work you do here.” He leant his elbow on the bar and took her in for the first time. Her uniform was pressed immaculately and fit her like it had been tailored by a professional yet she seemed uncomfortable in it. Hair curled perfectly with not a strand out of place and a dusting of pink powder across her cheeks.

“Well, Major, those kinds of discussions would fly in the face of my exact line of work, wouldn’t they?” She faced him fully and he swallowed thickly. She could probably read him just as well as she could that book in front of her.

“Still. You’ve got a good reputation for the crumbs you give these boys.” She looked around and took note of the stares.

“They’re only boys until they go up for the first time.” She turned back to her work. He wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t quite sure what they were when they came back but it was something different.

“No one will tell me about it. What to expect when I go up there in a couple days.” With a sigh, she closed the book in defeat and faced the Major, crossing her legs professionally.

“I can only assume it's because there are no words for them to describe it. And if they tried, pilots such as yourself may not be eager to join up.” He smirked.

“Such as myself? I promise the stories do me no justice.” It was her turn to roll her eyes.

“You’re the air exec for the 100th who arranged to be a part of a different company’s missions.”

“And?”

“Do you fancy yourself a hotshot, Major Egan?” John almost choked on the sip of his drink that went down his throat. She was studying him. Analyzing his reactions to her words like they were a math problem. Picking her conversational path accordingly. Instead of replying, he flagged down the man behind the bar.

“Can we get the Lieutenant something a little stiffer?”

“I don’t drink,” she deadpanned as whatever Major Egan was drinking was placed in front of her.

“You dance?” The rest of his glass went down easily.

“With the right partner.” She knew what he was really asking. Answered ambivalently anyways. And carefully considered his hand when he offered it. “You’ve known me less than a day, Major. You haven’t even asked my name.” She stood from the chair she had been occupying, pushing the Major’s hand into his chest and holding hers on top of it for a beat.

“Not the right partner?” he mumbled as she looked up at him with the clearest eyes he had ever seen.

“Not yet. Enjoy the rest of your night, Major. I’m sure I’ll see you at breakfast.” John wanted to do something to leave an impression. Maybe kiss her hand. Spin her around and coax her into joining him on the dance floor. Chase whatever was gnawing inside of him to figure out more about her. Instead he let their hands drop and watched her grab her things from the bar top and walk out of the party. He didn’t notice that they had had an audience the entire time they were talking. Didn’t notice the way she took a deep, steadying breath once she was out of the room. Didn’t know, may never know, that she wanted to dance. Wanted to smile and get to know people and experience everything this life had to offer her. But if one more airmen went up and didn’t come back down, especially one like Major John Egan, she doesn’t think she could handle it.

----

“This seat taken?” This time it was John’s turn to be surprised. He looked up from the morning paper to see Lieutenant…Cooper is what her name plate said, holding her cap and gesturing towards the chair across from him in the mess hall.

“All yours.” She sat quickly and thanked the attendant when he placed a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of her, her napkin placed delicately across her lap. “You learn that in debutante school?” He meant it as a joke but she froze.

“Maybe.” He hid a triumphant grin behind his own mug. “But I also learned that the way I behaved last night was not appropriate and I wanted to apologize.” John leaned forward, snatching a ration of bacon from her plate.

“I’ll accept your apology when you give me that dance you owe me.” The look behind his eyes was wicked. She hates that she enjoyed it.

“I’ll tell you what, Major Egan, come find me after your first mission and you can have your dance.”

“John.”

“Your oak cluster outranks my bar, Major-”

“We’re gonna ease you into calling me Bucky.” She giggled and John beamed.

“Bucky?”

“I’ll tell you while we dance…” He left the sentence hanging, silently asking for her to provide her name in turn.

“People who aren’t my mother call me Cass.” He whispered it, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue.

“Suits you,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m glad you think so.”

----

Cass did her best to keep her eyes off of him during the brief of his first mission. Did her best to keep busy with cables and news from Washington in the few hours it took to complete the mission. Did her best to keep her wits about her when the first plane landed back on the runway. She watched from afar, as she had been accustomed to, as Major Egan got out of his plane. He was flushed with flecks of blood across his face. There was less behind his eyes than there had been the morning they ate breakfast together. Disappointed, her eyes dropped to her shoes. No one was safe from this war.

She skipped listening in on interrogation, securing a copy of the notes instead, and retired to her billet without any interruption. Sleep eluded her, sheets tangled around her legs as she tossed and turned. Giving up, she headed out in her robe and slippers to the airfield. The cool air soothed her instantly and made her smile as she breathed deeply.

“Didn’t think I’d cash in on my dance out here.” She nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to see Major Egan leaning against his plane. His curls were loose and he was wearing his sheepskin instead of his blazer.

“I’m sorry to intrude, Major-” she fumbled over her words as she tugged the robe tighter around her body.

“You told me there would be no words to describe it. I don’t have the tools to think about it, let alone talk about it.” His voice was strained under the weight of what he had just experienced. She approached him cautiously. “What do I tell my boys when they get here?”

“Nothing. The same way you went up there and followed your instinct and it brought you back here, it will for them too.” She was close enough to rest her hands on his chest, the way she had that first night by the bar, and he didn’t think twice as he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. The light of the moon kissed an ethereal glow to her. One more intoxicating than the bottle of whiskey he had brought out with him.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, melting under her gaze and giving himself permission to stroke his fingertips across her jaw. She obliged, unable to deny him anything after he had learned the horrible truth that everyone who came here eventually did, her head resting against his heart and his arm tucking securely around her waist.

“Tell me more about you, John Egan.” It was best he remembered who he was, where he came from and what had originally inspired him to come here. To fight this fight.

“I’m from a little place in Wisconsin,” he murmured as he rested his cheek on top of her head and his eyes drifted shut, lulled into peace from their gentle swaying. “Joined up even before Pearl.” She smiled. Almost everyone in her town had joined up after Pearl, including her.

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin. Didn’t leave South Carolina until they sent me to training in DC.” John hummed.

“So I was right about debutante school.”

“Next time, I’ll teach you a proper waltz.”

“Gotta have something down here to get me through being up there,” he mused, his eyes opening to look down and enjoy the tranquil look on her face.

“Don’t get used to it. My next trip across the channel got approved while you were gone this morning.” John stopped abruptly and looked at her quizzically.

“Across the channel is a warzone. Occupied territory.”

“I know you know what they call me. Spook. How do you think you get your images of bombing sites and civilian population density and everything else? Someone has to go and get it.”

“Colonel said intelligence officer, not spy.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. He felt a twinge at the thought of her in danger but couldn’t help but feel the kindred spirit of someone chasing danger.

“I never said anything about spying. Just procuring.” His smile broadened and he swore he was going to kiss her if the sound of a wrench being dropped onto pavement didn’t startle them apart. Lemmons ducked back under the plane as soon as he saw the moment he had interrupted, Cass already retreated back into herself and shaking the fog of John Egan from her head. “I should go try and get some sleep before…” He nodded in agreement, clearing his throat and straightening his tie.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll walk you back.” He did so in silence, neither of them sure how to get back to where they had been. Not sure if they should go back to that dangerous of a place. “I can pick you up for breakfast in a few hours,” he offered slowly as they arrived at her door.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. So I’ll see you then.”

“Sweet dreams, Major.”

“You too, Lieutenant.” She threw him one last smile over her shoulder, John not leaving until she disappeared from his view. If only Gale could see him now.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfiction #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

Part One

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x (female) Reader

Summary: (this is set during a time when our young Top Gun pilots were still training at the academy) at another function hosted by the academy you find Bob being his usual wallflower self, sneaking off somewhere to be alone and away from the crowd, but this time you decide to keep him company...

Warnings: one use of ‘y/n’, inexperienced / virgin Bob, fluff, smut, oral (m receiving), minors DNI

A/N: okay so this was (loosely) inspired by a porn audio, like it just gives immaculate Bob vibes to me so I just had to actually write it out! it ended up going in a slightly softer, more emotional direction than I had ininitaly intended but ngl I kinda love it, I hope you guys do too!!

Part Two | Part Three

You sigh quietly to yourself as you poke your head into yet another room. Just one of many at this incredible mansion that the academy was currently hosting their end of year gala. You’d been idly chatting with everyone, flitting between groups of people, keeping mostly at Phoenix’s side. Occasionally you’d make eye contact with Bob where he perched against the wall, more content with just watching from a distance than being in the centre of attention, like Hangman. You’d tried to convince Bob several times to come join you with everyone else, but he’d blushed and politely declined. Eventually you’d dropped it, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

But then, just as Hangman started one of his stories that you’d already heard several times before, you noticed Bob was no longer at his spot on the wall. You looked around the large ballroom but couldn’t spot him. You just instinctively knew he’d snuck off somewhere to be alone. It wasn’t like it was an uncommon occurrence for him. But tonight, for some reason, you feel your heart drop when you no longer see him against the wall, missing the way his eyes seemed to always follow you specifically as you went around the room. Something like longing, yearning, had flooded your chest and you just couldn’t fight the urge to go and find him.

And so here you were, up one flight of stairs, poking into your third room of the night.

“Hey there, Wallflower,” you smirk as your eyes land on Bob, leaning on the back wall furthest from the door.

Bob coughs awkwardly, clearly caught off guard that you’d managed to find him in his hiding spot. The room appeared to be some kind of office or library. There was a large desk in the centre of the room, mostly empty save for a lamp and some scattered papers. The room was dim, the scattered lamps on the wall providing just barely enough light to see the room.The walls were lined with book-filled shelves, all except the back wall, which was dedicated to grand art pieces and portraits hung high in the grand room.

“Hey,” Bob flashes a bashful smile in greeting. “How did you know I was in here?”

“I didn’t,” you tell him honestly as you step into the grand room, closing the heavy door behind you. “I figured you’d snuck off somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where exactly,” you shrug. “This was the third room I checked,” you laugh lightly.

“Oh, right,” he nods at you with that signature soft smile of his; the perfect picture of sweetness and innocence.

You glide your way over to where he was leaning against the back wall, a beer still in his hand.

“The party get too much for you?” You ask genuinely.

Bob shrugs sheepishly.

“There wasn’t really anything for me to do or say so I, er, didn’t see any point hanging around,” he admits quietly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I was just being a wallflower again anyway,” he smiles at you gently.

Bob being a wallflower had become a small inside joke between the two of you. It had even developed into a nickname for which only you referred to him by. You return his small smile as you come to a stop just in front of him. You can feel the buzz of the alcohol in your system; it made your body feel tingly, your heart feel open.

“You telling me there’s no pretty ladies out there you want to ask to dance? Hmm?” You tease coyly, pressing for a response.

Bob blushes, his eyes averting from yours.

“N-no,” he gives his head a small shake, “well maybe one, but I- I- never mind,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head as if he could dispel whatever, or whoever, he was thinking about from his head.

You looked at him with gentle curiosity. A part of you wondered, hoped even, that it was you he was talking about. You kind of thought it was. But you couldn’t be sure. You sigh and clear your throat lightly before you speak again.

“So, you just gonna hang out in here for the rest of the night then?” You ask plainly.

“Oh, no, no. I just, er, needed a moment away,” he blushes.

You nod in understanding, shifting yourself a touch closer towards him.

“You want some company?”

“Uh, I don’t mind really. I’m okay here alone,” he smiles awkwardly.

You feel a weird sensation of disappointment settle in your chest, your smile faltering.

“You sure?” You venture.

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind being alone.”

“But do you actually want to be alone?” You push.

He shrugs and stammers quietly.

“I don’t mind.”

“That’s not really an answer,” you push.

He just shrugs and gives you and awkward smile that almost looks like a grimace.

“Bob,” you almost chastise him as fails to answer you.

You stare at him hard, and he practically folds in on himself under your gaze.

“I, uh, I’m not sure what it is you want.... what you want me to say,” he flushes with embarrassment again.

You look at him earnestly, feeling warmth flood your own cheeks. You take a deep breath before you let your words fly free, the alcohol in your system giving you just enough confidence to get the words off your chest.

“I want you to tell me that you want me to stay here with you,” you tell him with a sad smile.

When he sees hurt flash in your eyes he panics.

“I do, I do! I do want you to stay,” he stammers quickly, moving to step closer to you, like he was going catch you if you tried to dart free. “I just didn’t want to make you feel like you had to if you didn’t want to. I- I do want you here,” he looks almost as hurt as you now.

You feel your heart warm as you look at him. You reach out a hand to cup his cheek gently as he stares earnestly at you. You let your thumb stroke over his cheek, watching his eyes flutter slightly behind his glasses.

“Good, because I do want to stay,” you confirm with him.

“You do?” He looks almost taken aback.

“Mm-hm,” you confirm with a warm smile.

The buzz of the alcohol fizzes in your veins again as you find yourself leaning forwards, edging your mouth towards Bob’s. He freezes but doesn’t move away. You lean close enough to feel his lips tickle yours, to breathe in his scent, and it’s enough to make you dizzy. Enough to have the last of your inhibitions lost. You push yourself forwards again and finally crash your lips against Bob’s.

He moans in surprise, his eyes widening for a moment, his body frozen.

“Wha- what are you doing?” He exhales, his words muffled as you keep kissing him.

You just hum lightly into his mouth and keep moving your lips on his, tasting the peppermint of his toothpaste laced with the beer he still held in hand. You desperately try to kiss him harder, moving your body closer to his, pushing flush against him. He whimpers, trying to argue again but you push your mouth against his harder, frantically pleading with him to give in, to kiss you back. His whimpers begin to turn into soft moans as he slowly but surely starts to reciprocate the kiss.

His lips move softly over yours for a moment, tentatively searching yours; as if he was learning how they moved, how they fit against his. His body starts to relax, the tense nerves easing as he melts into the kiss. You feel his empty hand ghost over your waist, hovering just an inch over your body, hesitant to actually touch you.

“Wait, wait,” he pants suddenly, taking a deep breath as he tries to control his breathing. “Are you drunk? Is that why this is happening?” He looks down sadly, avoiding your gaze.

Your heart aches at the question, at the pathetic look of disappointment in his eyes. You reach up and cup his face, coaxing him to look back up at you.

“I’m not drunk,” you reassure him gently.

He looks at you warily, his cheeks still flushed red. You lean forwards again to press your lips to his. And, this time, he reciprocates the motion almost immediately, letting his lips move in time with yours. You kiss him gently for a while, the taste of him making you dizzy as it mixes with the fuzz of the alcohol in your brain.

You whine softly into the kiss as you swipe your tongue over Bob’s lower lip. He groans lightly in response, his mouth parting instinctively. You seize the opportunity, letting your tongue gently push into his mouth, sliding against his own. His tongue, slowly and warily at first, soon starts to meets yours stroke for stroke. You knew Bob had been kissed before, had even had a few decent make-out sessions from what you’d heard. But you also knew that was the furthest he’d gone so far. You couldn’t help but wonder why; if he kissed this good you could only imagine what he’d be like doing more...

But your reverie is disrupted when Bob breaks the kiss suddenly. You look at him worriedly.

“Um, just one second,” he blushes, before quickly ducking away.

You’re confused, almost hurt, until you see him jogging lightly to place his beer bottle onto a small side table nearby before jogging lightly back to you. The ridiculous cuteness of his little action makes your heart flutter. He jogs back to you, his now free hands reaching out to gently grab your face. His smile could light up the night sky as he leans down to kiss you again. You both smile into the kiss, lips dancing delicately together as Bob leans back against the wall again, his gentle hold on your face pulling you with him.

You kiss him deeply and gently for a short while before the buzz in your brain starts to bubble again. You moan louder into the kiss, pushing your body flush against him, effectively pinning him against the wall. Your hands move to run through his short hair, tugging lightly on his blonde locks, mussing it out of it’s neat style. It causes a groan to leave his lips. You start to rock your body against him, rubbing your crotch against his. You swear you can already feel him semi-hard within the restraints of his suit pants.

“Oh, wait...” he pants, tipping his head back, pulling his lips free from yours.

But you don’t want to wait. You want him.

You carried on kissing him, moving down to his neck. You kiss and nip at his gorgeous throat, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. His hands are now on your waist, squeezing you anxiously as you assault his neck with a litany of kisses and soft bites. He groans and gasps in surprise again as your lips trail back up to his mouth, moving with a fervour against his again. You kiss him hard and deep, dominating his mouth as one of your hands moves from his hair to trail down his body.

“I- I don’t- oh fuck,” he whines under his breath when you bring your hand between your two bodies, palming him through his trousers.

You hum in satisfaction when you feel his hips buck pathetically against your touch. You rub him gently over the fabric of his trousers, giving his steadily hardening cock a light squeeze. His breathing is heavy and uneven, his lips losing all concentration in returning your kiss as his mind becomes fogged with only the feeling of your hand palming his cock.

“Wait... stop... we...we should... should stop,” Bob pants hard, his face a mixture of pleasure and barely contained restraint, confusion and longing.

“Do you actually want me to stop?” You ask breathlessly, giving him a second.

“I- I don’t know,” he flushes awkwardly again. “Do you actually want to be doing this? Or is... is it just the alcohol?”

“I already told you,” you nip at his neck again, “I’m not drunk. I want this. I want you,” you tell him honestly.

He freezes at that.

“You do?” His eyes are wide, alight with hope.

“Yes,” you tell him simply, earnestly, placing another kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, kissing you back enthusiastically, his hands finding their way to your waist again and pulling you against him. You smile to yourself as he finally starts to reciprocate your actions further. He whines softly as you palm him a bit harder, feeling him grow fully hard beneath your touch. It’s then that he starts to stammer nervously again, pulling his lips off you.

“But I don’t- I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he grimaces sheepishly, “I’ve never done this… anything really… before.”

“It’s okay,” you shake your head and smile gently, “just relax.”

You go back to kissing at his neck. You remove your hand from his crotch momentarily to slide up his torso. You undo his tie quickly, throwing it aside before your fingers reach for the fastenings of his crisp white button-up. You undo the top few buttons, opening up his shirt to uncover just the top of his smooth chest. You kiss greedily at the new areas of exposed skin, your lips smoothing over the curves of his delicate collar bones, the line between his pecks. At the same time, you bring your hand back down to his crotch, squeezing him lightly through his dress pants.

“Oh f-fuck,” he mewls, his hands trembling where they held onto your hips. “Okay, but I shouldn’t... we shouldn’t... I mean, what if... what if someone finds us?”

“No one’s gonna find us, don’t worry,” you whisper huskily as you start unfastening his trousers now. “Hangman’s busy telling one of his stories again. Should keep everyone occupied for a while,” you chuckle.

He’s about to mumble another hesitation but it gets lodged in his throat as you push down his pants slightly, just enough to free his hard length. His flushes bright red as he looks down at where you held him in your hand. His entire body shakes with nerves. But you smile at him sweetly and duck your head to kiss his cheek lightly. You begin to pump him slowly, stroking your hand up and down his admittedly impressive length as you begin kissing down his throat again. He groans so gently, so sweetly, as you stroke him. He slowly but surely starts to relax again, his body untensing slightly.

You smile at your small victory before placing a final kiss to the base of throat. Then, you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Oh fuck, wha-what are you doing now?” His voice is trembling just as much as his fingers as they gently caress your face.

“I want to taste you,” you pout at him.

Bob balks for a second, his eyes widening almost comically; “you want what?”

You let your mouth twist into a smile, just a hint of wicked smirk tugging at the edge of your lips, before you wrap them around the head of his dick.

Bob groans so deeply, so loudly, that for a moment you’re almost concerned everyone would be able to hear him, even here, rooms away, even above the music that played in the main hall. His body tenses again, so you keep your touch light, just gently suckling on his tip as you gaze up at him.

“Oh, oh my god,” he whines, one of his hands reaching out beside him to help hold himself upright against the wall.

He throws his head back, his face scrunching with pleasure, eyes screwed shut. His other hand hovers just above your head, clearly desperate to hold onto to something but not wanting to do anything untoward to you, despite his cock being in your mouth. You fight the urge to affectionally roll your eyes as you grab his hovering hand, guiding his fingers to slide into your hair, cupping the back of your head. He looks at you, as if asking for permission, and you nod your head lightly once.

You then push your lips further down his cock, taking him deeper inside your mouth. He shudders as you do so, his hips bucking the tiniest bit. His fingers twitch, pulling on your hair. You moan loudly at the sharp tug, letting your tongue swirl around his head enthusiastically again as you pull back almost all the way off him.

“Wait, y-you liked that?” He mumbles as he looks back down at you.

You hum a sound of agreement as you bob back down onto his dick. His returning smile is delightful, unlike anything you’ve seen adorn his beautiful face before. You could almost squeal in delight as you feel him start to take some initiative. He curls his fingers against your skull, losing them in your hair. His thumb brushes against your jaw, running back forth from your chin to below your ear.

Your lips smile around him as you start to speed up your movements, bobbing your head up and down his length, letting your tongue flatten against the base of his surprisingly thick cock. His soft gasps and pants are music to your ears. His whimpers travel straight through your body, sending pulses your cunt as it started to grow wetter and wetter.

“O-oh, oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good. Y- you feel so good. Oh my god,” Bob rambles incoherently.

His words have you clenching your thighs, desperately rubbing them together to gain some kind of friction.

“Don’t stop, ple- please don’t stop,” he rasps pitifully, his fingers instinctively twisting harder in your hair as he loses himself to the pleasure.

His fingers are trembling as they twist into your hair. You hum in response, letting him know you had no intention of stopping. You relish in the deep groan it pulls from him. His whines start to get higher and higher in pitch, escaping his mouth more and more frequently. His hips jerk, his fingers twisting painfully in your hair. His legs feel wobbly and a part of you knew he was leaning against the wall to help keep himself upright. You also knew, from all these signs, that he was likely close. It was only a moment before he confirmed your suspicions.

“Oh shit, y/n… I... I think I’m gonna... I’m gonna...” he stammers, trying to pull himself away from you, clearly thinking himself too much of a gentleman to cum down your throat.

But you push his hips back against the wall, trapping him, keeping your mouth firmly in place. You moan enthusiastically, encouraging him, telling him it was okay. He looks down to see your wide eyes staring up at him, batting your eyelashes back up at him. Apparently, that look from you, paired with a final swirl of your tongue around his head, finally has him tipping over into pure bliss.

Bob gasps and curses, a string of profanities you’d never thought would leave this blushing aviator’s mouth. Your name is a cry on his lips as he releases himself into your mouth. His entire body trembles, shaking with pleasure as he spills down your throat. His cock twitches with each wave of pleasure as he shoots it into your mouth. You keep bobbing your head, easing up on your sucking action so as to not overwhelm or overstimulate him.

He leans slack against the wall, his legs trembling, barley holding himself upright. His chest is heaving with his rapid breathing, the tiniest sheen of sweat coating the exposed skin of his neck and chest. His hand loosens in your hair, but he keeps it resting there, his thumb still stroking your jaw. You pull yourself off him just as looks back down at you. Your eyes stay locked with his as you swallow loudly, letting the salty taste of him slide down your throat.

“You- oh my god. You’re fucking amazing,” he pants under his breath, the look in his eye suggesting he hadn't entirely meant to say that out loud.

Bob’s other hand moves to cup the other side of your face, gently pulling you upwards him. You let him guide you, standing up, until he pulls your face against his. His lips latch on yours and move confidently with your own. His kiss is soft and yet dominate, his lips searching yours feverishly.

After a moment Bob pulls away, gazing at you with a pensive look on his face. His brow is slightly creased as his eyes search your face. He bites on his lip nervously, like he was unsure about what he was about to say next.

“You okay?” You ask him gently.

He nods, his tiny smile gracing his gorgeous face, even as his cheeks flush bright red again.

“I just-“ he swallows nervously, “I want to taste you too...”

Part Two | Part Three

Masterlist

A/N: if anyone is curious this is the link to the audio! it is a porn audio so it is for people 18+ only! anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this and yeah part two is coming on Saturday night and I’m really really looking forward to it!!

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

2K notes · View notes

on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

Text

Capitol Punishment XI

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture

Word Count: 3.7K

Part X | Masterlist | Part XII

As angry as Haymitch was a Plutarch, the head game maker had smuggled in a bottle of whisky onto the plane. Haymitch half wondered if the whisky was to celebrate or to satiate him if things went wrong but he angrily took it nonetheless. He sat alone in a secluded part of the hovercraft, drinking heavily as he lamented the fact that you had been left behind. He was also angry with himself for taking the booze but he wanted to be numb for a second.

You woke up in what looked like a hospital, a bright light beaming into your eyes, unescapable. After a second you regained feeling, realizing you were strapped down in so many places so tightly you couldn’t move. Along with that you could vaguely see doctors flitting around just like after your first games. Except this time you could feel your legs in stirrups, a doctor in between your legs. You began to scream and thrash as much as you could but it was no use.

“Mrs. Abernathy,” several doctors tried to get your attention, “you’re having a miscarriage we need to get the decaying matter out.”

But you didn’t listen, tears streaming down your face as you remembered that you lost your husband’s baby.

When the doctors were done your legs were let down and strapped to the gurney. They wheeled you through the rest of the hospital like building, various Capitol symbols confirming where you were, until you reached a row of glass cells. Inside two of them you could see Peeta and Johanna. As you were wheeled into yours, you could see that your next-door neighbor would be Annie. She was curled up onto her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, muttering something. But you were quickly pushed into your own cell, right across from Peeta. There they strapped a chain to your ankle before finally releasing the restraints. You, of course, immediately jumped off the gurney, going straight for one of the nurses but the chain connected to the bed held fast, causing you to fall. Before you knew it an armed guard was upon you. He grabbed you by the throat, yanking you up until your back was nearly bent over the steel bed.

“You’re gonna fucking behave or else you and everyone you care about are gonna get it,” he seethed, his spit splashing against your face. “That miscarriage you had? We’ll make it happen again. We won’t even clean it up. We’ll just let you die of sepsis. Do you want that?” he yelled the last part. Tears were beginning to well in your eyes as you shook your head no. “Good,” he sneered pulling his hand from your neck. You sucked in a large breath of air just as he put what looked like a choker necklace at the base of your throat. Before you could ask what it was a shock was delivered causing you to jump a little. “That’s what’ll happen if you say or do anything you’re not supposed to. And it gets a lot stronger than that. Got it?” You nodded once again. “Good,” he punctuated his word with a slap to the face.

Once he and the nurse left you crawled up onto the bed, nowhere else to go. You sat up, finding Peeta watching you. He looked like he had dealt with something similar to you. Neither of you had anything to say to the other or anyone for that matter. You doubted you’d be able to hear the other anyways.

You had no clue how long it had been when several stylists came into your cell. You didn’t recognize any of them except for Vodka, your stylist from 8 years ago. A lot had changed about her as was typical in the Capitol but the thing you noticed the most was her smile. Before it had been genuine. Ignorant and ditzy but genuine nonetheless. Now it was sinister. Her place was now to torture you explicitly and maliciously, rather than under the guise of helping you all those years ago. “Y/N, I’m glad to see you,” she smiled. “I’m guessing you aren’t seeing as you took the opportunity to bash me on national television during your interview.” You didn’t say anything, choosing to just glare up at her. She pursed her lips, not liking that. Pulling out a small remote control she pressed a button, delivering a shock. “That’s what’ll happen when you’re being difficult,” she giggled as the stylists all descended upon you. Through the mess of makeup, wigs, and eccentric outfits you could see Peeta getting a similar treatment.

Once they were done you were left in a metal halter top that constricted your throat while still managing to barely contain your chest. You also wore a long skirt with slits going up both legs so it was barely a skirt. You were exactly what Snow wanted you to be. Desirable and available.

You were then led out of your cell with cuffs on your wrist as Vodka explained what was happening. “You’ll be interviewing with Caesar to make up for what happened in the games. I think you can figure out how to respond to questions in a way that you and those you love won’t be harmed but generally you’re saying that Haymitch and the rebels manipulated you. You never really loved him, he just took advantage of you. Talk about how you don’t support him or Katniss or the rebellion. Got it?”

The thought of actually saying those things broke your heart but you nodded in agreement. You were led to a plush looking chair, your wrists also being released. When you sat down they positioned you so your legs were crossed, making sure you looked exactly as Snow wanted you for the camera.

Haymitch rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time in this group therapy session. Once they had landed in District 13 Haymitch was a mess. He was angry and depressed and fueling those emotions was alcohol. District 13 didn’t have or allow any type of substance use so Haymitch was pretty much forced into rehab immediately with all the other alcoholics from 12 that had just arrived.

As someone else was begrudgingly relaying their feelings to the rest of the group the televisions suddenly turned on. Haymitch’s heart stopped as you appeared on the screen. He was relieved to see your relative state of health. You didn’t look tortured but your outfit said enough about what they were planning to do with you.

“Now, Y/N, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now but can you tell us what happened in those last few moments in the arena?” Caesar asked.

“I’m not completely sure. I was only told about the plan in small pieces. The rebels only told me what was relevant to me,” you answered.

“Yes, they tend to do that; lie in deceit,” Caesar commented. “Go on.”

“Well it was mine and Johanna’s job to get Katniss from the others so we could cut out her tracker while following through with Beetee’s plan to shut down the arena but Brutus and Enobaria from 2 caught up with us and I had to lead them away,” you explained, your expression hard and defiant.

“And I understand that’s when Brutus caused your miscarriage.”

You stiffened on screen. Haymitch stiffened as well, his heart crawling in his throat. His wife miscarried? Because he wasn’t there to protect her? He wanted to scream and cry and break things but more than anything he wanted to hear your voice, even if your words were filtered. “Yes,” you choked out. Your eyes glistened on screen. “I led him to the beach where he knocked me down. When I hit the ground I knew my baby wouldn’t make it.”

“Well I’m very sorry for your loss,” Caesar empathized, leaning across to place his hand over yours which was rested on your bare leg. “Who was the father?”

You visibly swallowed on camera, clearly hesitant. “Haymitch Abernathy.”

“Haymitch Abernathy,” Caesar repeated. “Your mentor and a man 15 years your senior, correct?”

You once again hesitated before choking out a “Yes.”

Caesar hummed. “And when did you two get together? Judging by your interactions in the arena it had been quite a while.”

“Right after my games,” you begrudgingly answered.

“Ah so this lonely, older man, who’s also a known alcoholic, swooped in when you were at your most vulnerable. Not only were you the first Victor from 12 since him but you happened to be beloved by the Capitol. Kind of convenient for him, isn’t it?”

Haymitch was internally begging for you not to agree with Caesar. He knew you were saying whatever you had to say to survive but he still didn’t want to hear you say it. A small part of him had been afraid of exactly what Caesar was saying. It was true he had basically swooped in at one of your most vulnerable moments. And because of each of your unique experiences he was basically your only option at the time. And because of that he was afraid you just defaulted to him. Not to mention he always felt like he had burdened you with his drinking. You had put him to bed and cleaned him up more times than he could remember and he was sure there were several instances where had had been too drunk to realize.

“You could say that,” you begrudgingly agreed. “He was the only one in the world I could remotely relate to and I had no one else after, or even before, my games.”

“Yes, well I’m sure everyone can clearly see his manipulation. Tell me, did you ever truly love him?”

Haymitch held his breath waiting for your answer. He knew you not to take whatever you said seriously but he couldn’t help it.

“At some points, maybe. But when he approached me about rebellion I was afraid. He threatened to leave me but at that point I was so dependent on him, I-” The tears new fell freely from your eyes.

Caesar moved over to your side, pulling you into a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sure it hurts to know the person you thought you knew would threaten to hurt you like that.” Once you composed yourself after a second Caesar returned to his seat. “Now was Katniss in on the plan as well or was she a victim of your mentor and the rebels like yourself?”

“I’d say she��s a victim. She never wanted any of this, none of us did. We all just want to live our lives in peace. We still can if everyone agrees to stop now.”

And at that the room interrupted into jeering. Haymitch looked around the room at the people who had once adored you for simply being a kind person within 12. “Traitor!” some yelled. A couple had turned on him, demanding to know if he had really taken advantage of you.

“Can’t you see she’s only saying that to survive?!” he yelled over all of the others. “You all know her, look at her.” Your image was still on the screen, condemning the revolution. “Does anything about that person on the screen look like the Y/N you know? No. She’s being used as a Capitol prop right now. The thing about the miscarriage? That’s true, she was pregnant, but she wanted this rebellion because she wanted a better life for our child. So don’t criticize her until the Capitol has their hands around your throat.” And with that Haymitch stormed out to his dormitory.

You prayed to any and all deities out there that Haymitch had either not seen the broadcast or knew that it was all a lie. The thought of him being heartbroken at your words was the worst torture the Capitol could inflict on you.

Once you were returned to your cell Peeta was led out, likely for a similar interview about Katniss. Seeing as there was nothing to do you curled up on the bed and shut your eyes, trying to sleep.

Haymitch was also curled up in his bed, trying not to let his demons get to him. He really missed his usual haze that helped keep the demons at bay. He was haunted by both Quarter Quells and by thoughts of you being tortured in the Capitol. But despite all of that he was determined to help Katniss and get you out and if that meant being sober, than so be it.

When his door opened he expected it to be one of the rehab staff telling him to go back to group therapy but rather he was met with Finnick. He looked like he didn’t know what to say so Haymitch sat up, gesturing for the peacock to come in. Finnick complied, leaning up against the desk. “I saw the broadcast,” he explained. “You have to know that she meant none of that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Haymitch paused. “Still isn’t easy to hear it,” he commented, opening up to someone besides for his wife for the first time in years.

“I know,” Finnick replied before letting out a dry laugh. “Isn’t it fucked up that I’m jealous of you and Katniss? I’d give anything to see Annie right now.”

“Peeta was on?”

“Yeah he just did an interview right after Y/N. He just condemned the rebellion,” Finnick dismissed. He sighed deeply. “More than anything I wish they were dead. I wish we were all dead.”

Haymitch sat in his thoughts for a moment. He knew you shared a similar mentality as Finnick, having admitted that you were only alive for him. He began to fear not only about what the Capitol was doing to you but what you’d do to yourself. Did you know if he was alive? Did you have a reason to live anymore?

As they sat in heavy silence the door opened, revealing one of the doctors. “Time for reassessment,” she declared, ushering Finnick out of the room.

It had been a couple days since your interview. You had sat and listened to the screams of your friends but you were left largely untouched. You were still receiving meals unlike the others which confused you because you had been resistant to them every time they approached the cells. “You have a customer,” the guard who had threatened you first burst into the glass cell. Y/N sat up, scared and confused. You knew what this meant but didn’t think it would happen so soon.

You began to beg to be left alone but was interrupted by a familiar face. It was the man who had threatened to have Haymitch killed if you didn’t agree to sleep with him, Mr. Summer. He was immediately upon you, sitting beside you on the bed. “I have dreamt of your body ever since that night we spent together,” he immediately jumped in, his lips on yours, hands already tracing your body. You let out soft sobs, realizing that now these men would likely be allowed to do whatever they wanted with you, no more guidelines about preserving you from Snow.

Haymitch stood in the control room with Plutarch and the other victors as Beetee tried to figure out how to get a video of Katniss to broadcast across all Capitol and District screens. As they were working on it a file came in. “What’s that?” Katniss asked.

“Could it have some sort of virus on it?” Plutarch suggested just as Beetee was about to open it.

“No we wouldn’t even see it if it had a virus. I assure you it’s perfectly safe,” Beetee assured opening it up.

Haymitch’s blood somehow ran cold and hot as a video of his wife popped up. On top of her was a mostly clothed man, one he recognized as the Capitol man he punched roughly a year ago. His wife, however, was fully nude. Her arms strapped above her head keeping her in place and unable to fight back as the man continued to thrust himself inside her. His hand was also clamped around her throat, *tight. She was sobbing and it nearly broke Haymitch to hear her sobs and cries for the man to stop. But as she spoke the man would slap her and hit her, leaving handprints and bruises on her body. “That’s enough,” he demanded.

“Hay-” Finnick tried to empathize with the man.

“I said that’s enough!” he yelled as the video was paused. A frozen pictures of your torture was left of the screen. “Get rid of that file,” he spat before once again storming off to his room.

You had absolutely no sense of time anymore. You slept whenever you could since it made time pass faster. You were often subject to sleep deprivation, a punishment the Capitol could inflict that didn’t cause any horrific physical wounds. The only physical torture you had suffered were the bruises from Capitol men— including the guards who held you hostage,— the shocks from your choker, and your now short choppy hair. At one point you had stopped eating, demanding that the others be fed as well. You didn’t have a view of Annie but you could see Johanna and Peeta get thinner every day. So thin you could count each individual bone in their bodies. When you started starving yourself, something Capitol men apparently wouldn’t find attractive, they cut off your long hair as punishment. They had dragged you into one of the torture rooms, strapping you down onto a metal table with your hair laid behind you. To up the terror they had done it with a sword, cutting it straight across on the table. They did even it out a little for the sake of marketability but it was still meant to torture you nonetheless.

They had told you over and over that you needed to behave so they could keep you attractive enough to sell your body. At first you had thought that becoming undesirable would be the best thing but they reminded you that significantly worse torture would be used on you. And judging by the fact that Peeta and Johanna were frequently dropped in their cells half dead, you realized just how easy you had it. So you started to comply and your compliance made them start to question you about the rebellion.

You were brought into the interview room once again but this time you were left in the hospital gown and the cuffs stayed on. And rather than Caesar interviewing you it was some man in a military uniform. He cut right to the chase as you sat. “Ms. L/N,” he rudely remarked, “tell us about how you became involved in the rebellion.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t know how much they knew and what would be useful to them. As well as not wanting to reveal any names, fearing their punishment if the Capitol ever got to them or their loved ones. You also knew your reluctance would be met with punishment. “Plutarch Heavansbee,” you named, suspecting he was already in deep shit. “He approached me at the welcome party for Katniss and Peeta during the victory tour.”

The man nodded, several assistants scribbling down information. “And what did Mr. Heavansbee say to you.”

“He said essentially that there was a way for me to be free, to not be subjected to the Capitol’s… desires.”

“You could’ve stopped at any time, Y/N,” the man interrupted.

“At the expense of the only person left for me to love,” you countered. “I know Johanna, I know why her family was killed. Don’t act like I had any sense of autonomy,” you spat.

“Ms. L/N, I suggest you calm down,” the man said, holding up a familiar remote. You swallowed your pride, sitting back in your seat. “Now, tell us about the plan you were a part of.”

“I was only told bits of information I needed to know, I suspect the same for the others. All I really knew were that Johanna, Finnick, Beetee, Haymitch and I were essential Katniss’ allyship and because she wanted Mags and Wiress they became essential too. There were also a couple tributes in on it to protect Katniss. I knew that we’d shut down the arena once we were all together, I didn’t know how until Beetee told us about electrocuting the other tributes in the arena. But when we were about to we’d have to cut out Katniss’ tracker which is what Johanna and I did. According to the plan we’d remove our trackers just before being brought out of the arena as well.”

“Did you know how you’d be picked up?”

“No but I figured I’d know it when I saw it,” you admitted, realizing how much you had blindly trusted Haymitch and Plutarch.

“Do you know what was supposed to happen after?”

You shrugged. “I knew that Katniss was supposed to be the Mockingjay— the face of the rebellion. I have no clue where they are or what exactly the plan is.” Internally, you were glad you didn’t know. You didn’t risk putting anyone in danger that way.

“Well I suppose there’s no harm in telling you since this is widely known information.” The man leaned forward. “The rebels are in District 13— your husband is hiding underground like a scared rodent,” he sneered. “He left you in that arena and in here to be tortured in order to rot underground.”

You wanted to ask about District 13, you thought they had been buried under piles of nuclear rubble and there was nothing left. But in response to his insults you stared at him, stony face, wanting to rip out his tongue. “We’ll see who the scared rodent is when Snow turns on you.”

Part X | Masterlist | Part XII

#haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 1 year

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So I might be a little addicted to Larissa Weems. Seems to be more contagious than the 'rona (and certainly more enjoyable!). Another little oneshot because the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Same universe as the others.

Burning For You

Larissa hadn’t been nervous knocking on your door in a long time. She had heard, however, from numerous students now, that you looked a little out of sorts upon your return from Jericho. ‘Spitting fire’ was the description that had her closing down her laptop and heading directly to your quarters. Reports of wall sconces bursting into flame and fireplaces lighting of their own accord as you passed had her speed up her pace. Raising a hand, she told herself to stop being foolish and rapped soundly on the wood.

Waiting for an answer, but getting none, she chanced turning the handle and poking her head around the door, immediately being hit by a wall of heat. Stepping into the room, she saw you sat on the chair set by the fire, staring intently at the flames.

“Hello Sweetheart,” she greeted, her voice full of forced cheer.

You whipped round to face her, pushing yourself up from the chair as you began to pace, not ready to speak quite yet. Not trusting yourself to. It wasn’t her fault, you knew, but that didn’t make it any easier to set your anger aside.

Larissa closed the door behind her but hesitated to step further into the room. She had never seen you like this. She was aware you were powerful. She had seen it with her own eyes, but not like this. “Are you all right? Did something happen in Jericho?”

You stop before the fire, the flames growing higher at your proximity. “No, nothing happened,” you hiss. “Because I walked away, like a good little girl.” So intent are you staring at the fire in front of you that you don’t see Larissa approach. You jump as she gently touches your elbow, turning to face her, seeing the concern etched on her face.

“Please tell me what happened?” she pleads. “You’re worrying me.” She had seen you before you left and your mood couldn’t have been different. You were happy, excited even, at the prospect of another trip to the bookstore. It was quite possibly your favourite place in town, and she had spent many hours watching you flit about the store, trailing your fingers over the spines as you mouthed the titles, as if testing the feel of them. She didn’t think she would ever tire of seeing the childlike excitement on your face when you found your next purchase, even if it meant she would no doubt spend the next few hours or even days in your company watching you with your head lowered between its pages.

You sigh, reaching for the hand that still hovers hesitantly by your arm. It’s not her fault, you remind yourself. You keep your eyes on your joint hands as you speak. “I went to collect those books I ordered. I was doing my usual, browsing while Felicity went to collect what I’d ordered when I overheard some guy say some not so nice things to a couple of students. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, so I told him, nicely, that his comments were inappropriate. That they were kids. Anyway, he must have recognised me from one of our dinners out in town. He, he started to make a few choice comments about Outcasts...about you.”

You unlace your fingers from hers, beginning to pace again. Larissa watched as you moved, candles lighting as you pass, the bulbs flaring brighter and buzzing as you came close.

“I wanted to burn him where he stood, or at least punch him into next week,” you growl. “But instead, I settled for telling him that unless he had something nice to say about you he shouldn’t say anything at all, especially to me.”

You turned to look at her, anger mixed with sadness on your face. “I wanted to tell him he was an fucking idiot,” you breathe. “That he was blind if he couldn’t see how fucking beautiful you are.” You can hear your voice rising but seem unable to stop yourself. “How extraordinary, how selfless you are in what give to this place. To tell him how special you make it for these kids, but I didn’t because I know how hard you work to try and maintain Nevermore’s reputation.”

You feel the tears gather in your eyes, and watch as she approaches you, her movements slow and stilted as she tries to judge whether you’re going to accept her presence. She catches your hands where you’ve been gesturing as you speak, lacing your fingers together.

“We can’t expect to change the views of narrow-minded townsfolk overnight,” she sighs. “They have always said and probably always will sadly say horrid things about the school and about me. You just have to let it go.”

“But I don’t want to,” you say, looking up to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to have to let it slide when people say things about you. You deserve to have someone stand up for you, to defend you.” In town earlier you had been proud you’d walked away, but on the drive home you’d started to berate yourself for being a coward. For not standing up for Larissa. Not defending her as she deserves to be defended against such narrow minded, cruel men.

You say nothing as she gently let go of one of your hands, bringing that same hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb stroking over your cheekbone.

“Thank you for wanting to defend me,” she says softly. “I’ve never really had someone who wants to do that for me. But thank you for also not stooping to that low life’s level and walking away.”

“If I opened my mouth, I’d still be there and I wouldn’t even be halfway through what I’d want to say,” you grumble.

She chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. She’s soft where you are still spiky. “Thank you for not incinerating that man where he stood and causing a PR disaster.”

You continue to grumble, but she cuts you off with another soft kiss.

“And thank you for coming home to me,” she adds, pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight.

It takes a moment, but the calm that always comes from being close to her finally starts to descend over you. You wrap your arms around her waist, breathing her in as you nuzzle into her chest. A small smile tugs as your lips as you feel a kiss being pressed to the top of your head.

“Do you think we can turn the heating down a little now?”

You look up, your smile turning sheepish. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a few deep breaths to centre yourself as you gather your power back in, the flames in the fireplace dying down, no longer fuelled by your energies. “Sorry. In case you haven’t guessed by powers are rather closely linked to my emotions. And Wednesday wasn’t exactly wrong when she said I get a little defensive over you.”

“You burn for me, hmm?”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “That was terrible.”

“Made you laugh though,” she grins, her smile faltering as you suddenly frown. “What?”

“I didn’t get my books,” you grumble, suddenly realising the fact you hadn’t even stopped by the desk on your way out of the store.

“Well,” she says, drawing out the word as her hands began to smooth over your curves. “Since you’re not going to be distracted by your books all night how about I amuse you some other way?”

She’s changing the subject and you know it, but who are you to say no when she’s looking at you with that devious smirk?”

“And then tomorrow,” she adds. “Since it’s Saturday, we could maybe have a late breakfast in town, hot chocolate at the weathervane and then we can pick up your books?”

At this, you grin. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader

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thedroneranger · 2 years

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The Office

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Preface to Dine In. Jake and his wife break in their home office.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 2.3k

“Are you touching yourself?”

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “Mhmm, I want you to touch me.”

“Well, baby, I’m not there, so you’re gonna have to touch yourself for both of us.”

She grumbled and leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her. She spent many evenings talking to Jake tucked away in their home office.

Together, they had decided the office walls should be top-to-bottom shelves to store their extensive book collection and trinkets from their travels. Jake even surprised her with an antique library ladder that was both functional and decorative. The desk faced the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked into the secluded backyard. She loved natural light—Jake sometimes teased her about being a plant.

In the evenings, she preferred soft lighting, so only the desktop lamp was glowing. The sky was nodding into darkness as the hands on the clock ticked closer to twelve.

“Where should I touch myself?” she inquired, leaning back into her chair.

“What are you wearing?” Jake asked from the other end of the line.

Her lips pulled into a seductive smile. “I had two in-home consults, so a high-waist, midi pencil skirt and v-neck t-shirt that I paired with a moto jacket.” Jake loved fashion, and Jake loved when she described fashion.

“What’s underneath?”

Her smirk tightened. “Well, I thought I was going to see my husband tonight, so I chose a lacy set.” A short gasp from the other end of the line. “It’s lavender. You always tell me it compliments my skin tone.”

“I wish I were there.” His sentiment was genuine.

“I do, too.”

“Think about me.” Jake paused. “Think about me when I return from a deployment. When I walk into the house. When you see me for the first time in weeks—sometimes months.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back into her plush leather chair. A soft moan flitted into the receiver as she envisioned Jake swaggering into their house in his service khakis. His perfectly tailored uniform, hugging his toned thighs and taught biceps.

There was no way that their tailor didn’t chuckle every time she had to stitch buttons back onto Jake’s uniform shirts. She knew how those buttons came off, and it wasn’t by accident.

Her thighs squeezed together as she thought about the last time she ripped Jake’s shirt off him.

“God, I wish I were there to peel off your skirt.” Jake disrupted her thoughts. “Unzip it for me, baby.”

The need in his voice made her smile reappear. “I’m sliding the zipper down right now,” she began the play-by-play. Cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she pushed back her chair to stand and tugged the structured fabric down her hips. “It’s on the floor.” Her hand slipped between her legs. “My panties are damp, thinking about you,” she told Jake. She heard Jake curse while she situated herself back in her chair.

“I’m sitting on the edge of the chair. I needed more room to spread my legs. I think I’ll leave my panties on…” Once she got into it, she was in to it. Jake loved having phone sex with her. Of course, nothing could replace his hard cock being sheathed by her warm, tight pussy, but listening to her descriptive masturbating was a nice holdover.

Jake was thankful he was about to pull into the driveway. He couldn’t remember the last time his pants were this uncomfortably tight. But he was so close. She was just rooms away.

Quietly, he let himself into the house and slipped off his shoes. Jake did his best to make responsive noises but not give away he was in the house.

“Jake.” She was panting his name. “Your fingers make me feel fuller. I wish you were here to fill me up.” His bottom lip was pinched between his teeth as he tried to slowly twist the office doorknob.

“Well, baby, your wish is my command,” he said as the door opened to reveal him.

“Holyshit!” She nearly fell out of her chair. “Are you trying to kill me instead of giving me an orgasm?” She had a hand over her heart as she waited for it to return to a normal pace.

Jake’s signature smirk painted his face. “Surprise, baby,” he said softly.

She stood, revealing her lacy lavender underwear. Jake watched as she put her laptop in the desk drawer and tidied some papers before sliding them into another drawer. She came to the desk edge nearest the door and leaned against it, spreading her legs and resting her palms behind her on the desktop.

“I need your help.” Her voice was sultry. Her eyes were hooded.

Jake’s eyebrows arched as his smirk stayed glued to his face. He began to walk toward her. “Baby, at least you were able to touch yourself.” He was standing between her legs, leaning down so his face was close to hers, their noses almost touching. His palms planted near hers on the desk.

“I was driving home the entire time we were on the phone.” His lips grazed her cheek. “My cock is so hard,” he whispered into her ear, and then pressed a light kiss to the shell. Her eyes were closed as he teased her. His lips trailed down her neck. The moans escaping her lips spurred him on.

He helped her pull her shirt over head, and then placed tiny nips along her collarbones. His name fell from her lips as she slid further onto the desk. He chased her, his lips never leaving her skin. He put a hand behind her so she couldn’t slide any further back.

Her fingers slipped into his hair and tugged at the roots. He didn’t resist, letting her bring his lips to hers. They both growled as they fought to dominate the kiss. Jake threaded his fingers in her hair and pulled her back, so her neck was fully exposed to him. He sucked and licked and bit the column of her neck while she whined and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Fuck,” he slurred. His southern drawl always came out when he was horny.

“Fuck me, Jake,” she said. He had moved on to giving her chest attention. “Your cock has to be purple by now. I’m going to leave a pool on this desk,” she added.

“I’d lick up every drop,” he replied between kisses.

She put a hand around his neck and sank her nails into it. “Jacob.” It was a warning.

Jake moved one hand to her hip and the other delved behind the flimsy fabric of her panties straight into her sopping core. Her breath caught as she sat straight up, unprepared for his sudden entry.

They kept eye contact as his fingers scissored and curled into her, catching that spongy spot every so often. “Enjoying my fingers, baby?” he asked.

“Not nearly as much as if it were your cock,” she choked out. Jake’s signature smirk stamped his face as her passive aggressive jab hit first. Then his chest puffed as the softer blow, his cock being what did it best for her, landed.

“Jacob.” Another warning. Jake thoroughly enjoyed it when her dominance began to bubble up. He trailed his fingers up her slit, then her stomach, between her breasts and then stuffed his arousal-soaked fingers in her mouth. The cool trail made her shiver as her tongue immediately swirled his digits.

He eagerly watched as she held his palm and bobbed her head while sucking his fingers. Jake thought he might come when she looked up at him through her lashes. Once she cleaned all of herself from his fingers, she placed his hand on her breast. She busied herself unbuttoning his clothing.

Impatient, she gripped the front seams of his shirt and ripped them apart. Buttons pinged off the shelves, the desk and the floor. They exchanged smirks, she moved onto his pants, and he pulled his white undershirt over his head. Jake quickly ditched his pants and underwear. She watched as his angry cock bounced against his stomach.

“Turn.” She slipped off the desk and rested her stomach on top while her hips hugged the side. A gasp escaped her lips as Jake’s hand roughly gripped the back of her neck. She kept herself up on her forearms. His body was covering her so he could whisper into her ear. “Ready for me, baby?” She let out a compliant sound that made him want to plunge right in. But, instead, he slowly pushed into her. A true feat since she was so wet, he could have quickly slipped into the hilt. “You’re soaked.”

“No thanks to you,” she shot back. His eyes widened and he snapped his hips, harshly bumping hers into the desk—she would have bruises tomorrow. She squeaked, and he smirked.

“No?” He kept shallowly, slowly thrusting. He moved his hand from her neck into her hair and pulled so her head was looking a little over her shoulder toward him.

“You heard me on the phone,” she responded. “I did all the work—I got us both ready.”

Jake leaned over to kiss her cheek, and then her shoulder. “Well, I’m here to finish.”

“You better.” God, he loved when she got mouthy. His fingers curled a little tighter in her hair and his pace quickened. Her hand was headed between her legs when Jake caught her wrist and pressed it to her back. He pushed her head down, so her cheek was against the desk. She groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to come yet,” he stated. “I will make you come.” His voice was stern and his pace became brutal. She grunted each time his hips snapped into her ass, which dug her hip bones deeper into the edge of the desk. She bit back a whine—it would only feed Jake’s ego.

He unwound his hand from her hair and hooked it in the crook joining her thigh and hip, scooting her back to create a little space between her body and the desk edge. Then, Jake’s hand disappeared between her legs and slipped between her slick lips. It took all her might to hold back the pleasurable moans attempting to escape her mouth.

Jake began a sweeter, slower pace with his hips as his index finger lazily circled her engorged nerves. “C’mon, baby.” His voice was soft—his drawl extra emphasized. “I want to hear you. Let me hear you, baby.” Jake added a finger, swirling the pads of both fingers over her swollen bundle of nerves. Finally, a soft moan passed her lips.

“There we go.” He kept a steady pace with both his hand and hips. She felt her body melting onto the desk while the knot low in her stomach grew tighter.

“Don’t stop,” she purred with her eyes closed and her cheek still on the desk. A long sweet sigh left her mouth as she clenched around Jake. His hips kept moving and his fingers kept circling as she enjoyed the bliss of her release. “Jake,” she sighed.

His name leaving her mouth was the cherry on top for him. His hips stuttered as he came. They both felt his warmth release inside her. Jake rode out his orgasm until he knew he was limp. Then, he leaned over her, pressing his body to hers. She moaned, keeping her eyes closed and enjoying the weight of him. A smile crept across her lips as he placed soft kisses on her shoulder and back.

A groan of displeasure left her as his weight disappeared. Jake’s hands hooked in the crux of her hips and pulled her off the desk to stand against him. She looped an arm around his neck to help steady herself and his hands rested on her hips. Jake kissed her temple from behind. “Let’s go to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.”

She grumbled and turned to face him. “Do you have to go to work tomorrow?” She pressed her hips to his and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

“Yes,” he stated. “But if you wake me up we can spend some quality time in bed together.” He bent down to capture her lips again. She accepted his advance and tugged on his bottom lip. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned as they separated.

“Can’t and won’t are two different things,” she retorted before stepping away from him. He watched as she slid back onto the desk and let her knees fall open, exposing her core. “I am hoping you’re willing to help clean me up before we go upstairs—I won’t make it there before you’re dripping down my legs.”

Jake watched as she dipped her fingers inside herself and teased a little cum out, letting it drip down her onto the desk. “Goddammit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees in front of her. She rested her heels on his shoulders as he laid his forearms on the desk and hooked his hands in the crease of her thighs.

Her breath hitched as he placed kisses along the insides of her thighs, headed toward her heat. He kissed each of her lips before capturing her clit. She whined his name and softly bucked her hips toward his face as he slurped his seed out of her.

She watched as he swallowed it, and then planted a lingering kiss on her lips as he stood. She put a hand on the back of his neck to prolong their kiss. “Baby.” He was trying to get her attention between kisses. She groaned and broke the lip lock. “We’ll pick this up in the morning,” he assured her.

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

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Eddie Munson x Rockstar!Reader

Eddie got into the nearly nonexistent line, hours before the show he’d saved up for so long for, the sidewalk behind the black rope soon to be filled with your adoring fans, who’ll wait for you to enter the stadium, hoping for autographs. You were so kind, Eddie knew, that you’d give some lucky people your presence! Or the ones who were good attention grabbers, and oh was Eddie skilled at that! Easily he made his way to the front, and he stayed there after being one of the first in the row, and through intimidating the many people who tried to barge in front of him. Body firm as he held tight to the rope, and stuck in place.

Until you came out of your car. Eddie’s body went through a rush then, every cell in him firing up and making his body soar, as he became just another part of the cacophony of screams, jumping up and down in place while you headed down the line to the stage doors, waving at everyone who screamed your name.

He couldn’t believe he was seeing you again! He’d seen you a bunch of times, but he’d never gotten this close! You were so... amazing, this close up, and not just on a poster or record art. This was you, in all your glory, pumped before a show with that intense surge he knew all too well from his smaller gigs. And Eddie was not only starstruck, but lovesick...

You signed two people’s books, who were closer to your car, before you reached Eddie. His smile beaming as he realised you were stopping! And then you took off your shades, just to smile and look into his eyes. Just for him. His mouth dropped open.

“Hey! I think I saw you this morning, outside of Brent St? I recognised your hair. It’s soooo pretty on you!” You genuinely compliment him, seeming enthused at his looks. Asking him, like this was just a normal conversation between two warm strangers. And that was Eddie. You remembered him...!

Eddie literally can’t help but cry. Fat tears blocking his vision of his dream girl, so he swipes them quickly away from his face, even as they keep coming. The charm bracelet he made based on titles from your albums, scratching at his cheek. Eddie nodded hard, his voice loud and eager. “You’re right! That was me! I’m Eddie! I’m your biggest fan I- I’ve been to every show!!! Thank you so much! You’re the pretty one!” He hopes that last one was okay, swallowing a lot of spit as it blurts out. After he tried to cram every thought into his small one on one time with you. Nervous, but you making him higher than any drug in his stash back home would do to him.

But you keep smiling at him, and his breath stops, as you lean over, and so tenderly play with his hair. “Don’t put yourself down pretty boy. You’re beautiful Eddie!” Your fingers are still teasing the roots in his hair and Eddie just about melts. It felt so good. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time someone played with his hair, someone touched him like this. And you’re touching him! You! Trying with near pain not to close his eyes from your caress, your petting, because he wanted to watch you holding him so fondly!

You sign the little autograph book Eddie can barely keep a hold of, that’d he’d almost forgotten about, and he’s thanking you over and over, just word vomiting about how he’s been following your music since day one, how much he worships it! Mentioning an underground concert basement he saw you play in, which he sees your body light up at, knowing it was one of your very first professional gigs. While you keep on signing.

But then you take his hands, cooing audibly over his rings, before letting your fingertips play over them, up to his own pads. “These are guitar players hands, right Eddie?”

Eddie nods, eagerly informing you all about the model he plays, knees trembling as you’re holding his hands. His eyes flitting between how beautiful you are this close, and what you’re writing into his skin, as you take the pen cap lid between your dark lipstick, and focus on his hand. He swears he’ll get it tattooed. Whatever it is, as soon as he’s home.

Eddie looks as you finally (unfortunately) let him go. It’s not only your autograph on his skin, but some random word. Fleeting panic bubbles up in Eddie for a second, was he supposed to understand some kind of reference? But you explained straight away, “It’s a password.” You had leant in to whisper, ducking your hand and your mouth under those pretty curls to press your cheek to his ear. Giving you two some privacy. “Give it to a backstage manager before the show. But don’t worry, I’ll still remember you again, like I did today.” When you finally leant back, you winked at Eddie. A few fans behind you screaming into his ears at the display. But almost like only you and Eddie existed, you stroked those gorgeous curls you couldn’t believe you’d only seen today, knowing you wouldn’t forget them now you had been so blessed.

Eddie can barely nod, his hands gently holding onto yours as it starts to softly slip out his grip. His eyes as wide as his lips were thick, mouth on the floor as Eddie watched you slink away. Not taking your affectionate eyes off of his until the final second, where you put your shades back on, and turned around to sign one more picture. Before ultimately waving to everyone, and heading inside. Disappearing from public view, behind heavy doors, and butch security.

Eddie’s puppy eyes could finally leave you, head slowly creaking down to his hand that was just trembling. Especially as he looked and saw the black ink still there. That just really happened... Now Eddie wasn’t running to get to his front row place through the auditorium’s doors. He was running to any stage door, any, so he could obey you. To see why you gave him this password and why you wanted to see him! And so, just like you wanted, he could go follow his star...

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poguesarerogues · 1 year

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Smitten Art piece

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe X genderless reader

Word Count: 894

Warnings: obsessive behavior, slight yandere-like themes

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The lecture was long and boring. He had no business in judging anyone who chose to block out the monotonous ramblings of the instructor as they went on and on about one particular plant whose poison could be used to put people in a coma. Even he had chosen to direct his attention to something more worth his while. A drawing. He was a master of drawing… or at least, that’s what everyone made it seem like who knew of his talent. He’s constantly drawing. Drawing, drawing, and drawing some more. It’s almost as if he had been born with a pencil and paint brush in his hands. Being a student of Nevermore only served to project the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype onto him even further than it would elsewhere. He loved to draw and paint. It takes his mind off of everything and everyone going on around him. All the problems of the world and in his life disappear when he picks up a pen and lets the ink bleed into the paper before his eyes.

Recently there has been one thing in particular that he has enjoyed drawing. One person actually. He’s plagued with images of this being. His mind is unable to think of anything else until an entire paper or canvas is covered, corner to corner, with the object of his recent infatuation. You!

Only Wednesday is aware of just how far down the rabbit hole he has fallen in regard to thinking about you. His obsession has reached the point that many drawing pads have been filled, front to back, with images of your face or points in time where he has captured your beauty as you go about doing whatever it is that you choose to do during your time at Nevermore or when you’re in Jericho. There are more drawings and painting than he, nor anyone else, would ever wish to count.

Xavier denies that he’s way too far in over his head with sealing your beauty into an immortalized form with his artwork but, considering it has only been three weeks since you arrived to campus and he has gone this far already without even officially meeting you, he doesn’t find it any bit surprising to know that if anyone else were to find out about this he’d likely be penalized with a restraining order.

And so he drawing silently, his eyes flitting in your direction oh so frequently. He wants to capture every detail perfectly without getting caught. He can’t make it obvious. So he makes his glances quick and discrete.

He sits one aisle behind you today. How unfortunate it is that someone had chosen to take your seat for that lecture day without any particular reason. At least his sits on the opposite end of the classroom though so that he can still capture the beauty of your side profile from behind. He works quickly to get every detail of your face and body onto the paper. The time limit of the lecture inching closer to bringing his project to an end with each passing second. Each second feeling far less than that to the stressed artist. Of course, he knows that he could still finish the piece even after the bell has rung but there’s something about beginning and finishing within such a limited timeframe that makes him feel accomplished when he’s capable of pulling the quest off.

If only each lecture that he had with you could be longer!

As he finalized the details of your uniform the dreaded bell rings. He has no choice but to quickly close up his sketch book before any students can see. Some of them are already headed out the door while others struggle to get out of their seats as they shove their notebooks and other belongings into backpacks or wrestle them into a position between their arms and ribcages to carry them out the door. When he looks your way Xavier sees that you are beginning to head out of class. He’s always astonished with how quickly you can get around despite how crowded areas of nevermore can get during times like this. Once his sketch book is between his arms, he briskly begins to exit the classroom. He hopes to see your evading figure for just a second before the two of you must separate for the rest of the day. Screw whoever made up your schedule! He wishes he had more classes with you.

Unfortunately, Xavier finds no luck in seeing you before he reaches the hall that leads to his next class. With a sigh of discontent, he pauses momentarily in the hallway, looking down the direction that he knows you’ve gone. If only he could follow.

With a quick huff he resumes his journey to his next class.

He may not have anymore classes with you for the day but he knows that you’ll be going to the fair tonight. He’s planned it for so long. Tonight he’ll finally introduce himself and you’ll be smitten with him just like he is with you. If not, Wednesday will help him with his endeavors to make you interested in the loner elitist boy at school.

One way or another, you two will meet, and Xavier will make damn sure that you become just as infatuated with him as he is with you.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier wednesday #yandere xavier thorpe #dark xavier thorpe #dark fic #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe x y/n #wednesday series #xavier thorpe x you #dark!xavier thorpe #yandere #dark!xavier

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sharksssm · 6 months

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Not Broken At All

ace!tav, hurt/comfort, no smut! My Tav is in love with Shadowheart, Gale and Astarion, yes I can fix them all and together we can do anything okay. You could see it sometimes, when you walked through camp, hear it in their voices. Attraction. You weren’t opposed to a romantic relationship with one (or more) of your new acquaintances. No, friends? Companions? Regardless, you felt more and more sick every time you had to turn someone’s advances down, feeling the relationships you were building grow slightly tense in the aftermath.

Lae’zel was first, and Astarion had propositioned you in the goblin camp, that one stung to turn down, your attraction to him was strong. You almost considered just sucking it up so that he wouldn’t look at you the same way the other two did. Disappointed. You had some wine with Shadowheart, looked at the weave with Gale and shared a thought of you two holding hands, and you couldn’t help but scold yourself. Childish. Now you settled down for your rest, where a feeling of anticipation for the journey ahead should be, a feeling of discomfort sits in your stomach instead, rumbling through your mind the more you looked at your companions. Astarion caught your eye over the cover of his book, quirking an eyebrow at you. Your cheeks reddened as you cast your eyes to the ground. “I couldn’t help but notice your eyes on me, darling. I don’t suppose you’ve anything to say?” He wants you to change your mind, to want him like he wants you. “Oh, uh, no Astarion, sorry.” He sighs deeply. “Right, what’s the problem then? No offense darling but you’ve hardly taken the kicked puppy look off that pretty face all day, and surely my offer isn’t so bad you’ve been actually hurt by it.” You shook your head, hands outstretched in a placating manner, not that Astarion sounded particularly upset by any stretch. Although, he rarely did, upset or not. “No, not at all! It’s something personal, an issue for me alone to deal with.” You could feel eyes on you, assessing the situation. It was no secret, the flame you had for Astarion, let alone for some of your other companions, but neither was your rejection of his advances. Lae’zel in particular was not being subtle, eyes glued on the two of you while she sharpened her sword, Gale’s flitting between you and Astarion with barely-disguised interest. Your shoulders slumped. “Since all of you are so interested, how about we all talk about it, and get it open amongst the group.” The palpable lack of eyes on you suddenly made you almost more self-conscious, and Astarion looked almost… annoyed. “Oh yes, let's talk to the whole camp about you rejecting me.” It took maybe 5 minutes to gather everyone, sans Withers and Halsin, around the fire, the sunset light casting a pink-orange hue over the scene. You sighed, hands clasped in your lap, fiddling with the little ring you’d bought from the tiefling child, one to supposedly ‘ward off ants.’ Gale had laughed at you and you’d just blushed, remembering how it felt to search for any money you could as a kid. It gave you something to play with now, at least, so it was useful in the end. “Look, everyone… I'd like be honest with you all, as many of you have been with me.” A murmur of agreeance went around the group, their attention focused. “You’ve all – literally all of you – flirted with me at some point in this journey.” Suddenly, eyes on each other, narrowed and wide alike. Shock, suspicion, and jealousy ran abound, but still, nobody said a word, waiting for you. Why am I the leader here?

“And look, I truly take no issue with flirting. I enjoy it, most of the time. I just – “ Deep breath. “Ever since I was a child, there’s been something wrong with me. I feel love, so much of it, but when it comes to… well, after, there’s no feeling. I would well and truly fall in love with any of you but I have no feeling, or desire, to have sex.”

The eyes on you blinked, but still no response came, and your stomach dropped into the pit of your stomach. “I know that there’s something broken within me, and of course I don’t expect your understanding at all, in fact I’m sure some of you may feel that I’ve led you on, but truly-“ Your rambling was interrupted by hands on either side of your face. Shadowheart, of all people, knelt in front of you, her hands were glowing blue. “I can’t sense a thing wrong with you, which means it must be natural. It is okay, to not want or crave sex as the rest of us do. I am more than happy to just be in your presence and only do the things you want to do. That will always be enough.” A tear rolled down your face, as she kissed your nose, and moved to make room for Gale, who took your hand in his, gently squeezing. “You are not broken, nor are you the only one who feels this way. In fact, I know someone quite the same, back in Waterdeep. I can assure you that anyone who gets to know you will be more than charmed enough to overlook it, and if they cannot, then they don’t deserve you at all.”

You offered him a watery smile, squeezing his hand. “I don’t expect all of you to understand, but thank you, at least, for hearing me out. I might take a walk.” You let go of Gale’s hand, smiling at Shadowheart and walked past a silent Astarion and a pensive-looking Lae’zel. You truly didn’t want to think about what the rest of your companions thought about your feelings, you had enough thoughts of your own to contend with as you walked into the forested area behind your camp. Your whole life – childhood, your teenage years, you’d never met anyone like you, let alone anyone who accepted it so wholly. And here were two people who both accepted you and assured you that you were not alone.

You were so lost in thought you’re surprised you even heard a crunch of soil behind you. You spun, drawing your dagger, relaxing fully when you spotted Astarion. “Snapping twigs on purpose are you?” He smiled, walking towards you. “Well darling, I need to give you enough notice to get away from that dagger of yours in time.” You smiled weakly, sheathing it away and wrapping your arms around yourself. “Astarion, you don’t need to-“ “I need to apologise actually.” You looked up at him, red eyes meeting your own. “I asked you for sex, and when you said no I viewed it as a challenge, not a firm answer. That’s… not okay.” He appeared almost pained, and you reached out for his arm on instinct. “Astarion, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last.” His eyes met yours, steeled and angry. “Your body and feelings are yours, nobody should ever try to take that choice, that truth, away from you.” You thought about what Astarion had told you previously, about Cazador and his treatment of Astarion. “Nobody should have taken it away from you either Astarion.” He took a step back, and a deep breath through his nose as his eyes closed, opening them again with a determined, but soft look in his eyes. “I know. Thank you. But let’s not distract from what I came here to tell you, which is that you are not broken, at all.” You were sure he could hear your heart beat faster at his words, perhaps even smell the blood flush your cheeks. He sighed, a heavy, deep sigh, of someone afraid of what might happen next.” “I also wanted to tell you that you were wrong.” Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest. “About?” “Do you remember when I was trying to honey you with words, how you laughed and said I was lying when I said ‘I love you?’ Well, I think I do. Or, well, I’m starting to.” Oh. Your mouth opened uselessly, and Astarion kept talking. “I had this nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy – instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. But you wouldn’t sleep with me. I tried everything – a knee between your legs as I fed, slight touches, outright asking. And even though I didn’t get anywhere with my seduction – I failed the other part of my plan, the part where I didn’t fall for you. Your mouth was dry, and you licked your lips, eyes on the ground, watching an ant scurry away from you. Damned ring, maybe it was magic. “You… you’re incredible.” His hand found your cheek, your face angled back towards him. “You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

A tear fell from your eye. You had no right to be hurt, you knew this was how he was trained – a training he was trying his hardest to break. But you’d let yourself fall for him, let yourself let someone into this closely guarded place within you. “Were you ever attracted to me, really? Or was it all just to try and bed me.” He looked almost shocked, throwing his hands out towards your body. “Of course I was attracted to you! I mean, look at you for goodness sake! You’re a vision.” He took your hand in his then, looking into your eyes, as if willing you to believe him to take his honestly at face value and not question him. “And you’re so much more than that. I just… don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want.” You enveloped his hands in yours, stepping closer as he spilled more of his truth to you. “Gods, I don’t even know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years playing the rake. Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed, a lure to bring people back to him. The idea of sex – it feels tainted. It brings up all these feelings of disgust, and loathing. I just – I don’t know how else to be with someone.” He put his chin up, addressing his next words to the empty space behind your head. “No matter how much I’d like to.” You’d seen him do this before, of course. Addressing the space behind you, steeling himself for disappointment, for rejection. “Astarion…” you murmured, running your hand down his arm, reminding him you’re still here, present. “I care about you, deeply.” His eyes shot back to yours, wide and hopeful. “Really?” You mulled your options here over in your mind, before stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him. He said he didn’t know how else to be with someone, and this was the only way you could be with someone. It took him a moment, but eventually you felt his face in your shoulder, his arms returning your embrace. You stood like that for a few moments, simply enjoying each other’s arms, before you stepped back, his face looking at your longingly. You could hug him every day for the rest of your lives and it wouldn’t be enough. “You.. you’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Honestly I have no idea what we’re doing – or what comes next.” The smile on his face lit the darkness around you up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “But this,” he took your hand in his, “this is nice.”

You basked in this moment as long as you could, playfully chatting and holding hands, even hugging him again, but eventually, your tired eyes betrayed you, and Astarion insisted you needed rest, tugging you back to camp. You trekked back, cautiously optimistic. For now, Astarion was yours, okay with your sexlessness, okay with your love for him being only emotional and physical in all the ways excluding sex. Maybe after you killed Cazador, Astarion would change his mind, and seek out a partner who could provide him with everything he could ever want, a true romance. But a fire you thought snuffed out long ago burnt dimly inside you, a hope. You could be enough, as you are, enough for him to love you like you loved him, to stay with you and be happy and content without sex. You closed your eyes, the ground much more flat and without gnarled roots to trip your feet, and your love’s hand for guidance. You let yourself believe.

BONUS: Wyll: "I didn't mention it earlier, surrounded by your loves and all, but you are whole, love for sex and other festivities or none at all. You're not broken, or wrong, you just have an appetite for a different kind of love. I admire your bravery, my friend." Lae'zel: While my people sate our appetites freely, there are many among us who may choose not to partake. They are still just as strong in battle, as are you. Karlach: Soldier, I couldn't care less about something like that! Hell, you could tell me you exclusively fuck bugbears and I'd still love you! Well, actually, maybe not that, but you get the idea! Ugh, I just want to hug you forever. *proceeds to try and do so*

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate gale #bg3 gale #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #baldurs gate shadowheart #tav x astarion #bg3 polyamoury #asexual tav #ace tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #writing practice

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13atoms · 6 months

Text

Anthology (Count Orlo x Reader)

There's someone in court distracting Orlo from his daily duties, who loves the written word as much as he does. 1.5k, fluff, F!Reader

📚📚_

There were very few things in the palace as predictable as Count Orlo. He rose in the mornings, he ate when food was presented to him, and he completed his work on time. When Peter teased him, he did not rise, and when he made choices he followed the most pragmatic route which still offered some kindness.

He could name each person at court, how they were related to each other. He often didn’t know who was sleeping with who, or when cruel words were passed between courtiers, but he knew the things which mattered.

In each part of his routine there were a hundred variables each day, and he could cope with all of them.

Except for you.

When you appeared in the library, or sat beside him at dinner, or smiled at him as he stood beside Peter and suddenly made his hands shake. It confounded him, that he would look for you in every room he entered. If you were behind him on the staircase, he would grow self-concious of the way he walked, the words he spoke, the way he held his papers.

Gradually, his steady routine had become decentred, until finally he was altering it with the hopes he might spend a little more time with you.

It was one of those evenings, where sleep was too far away and work was too much of a chore. He wandered the corridors, waited for some crisis which never seemed too far away.

At each wide-hipped skirt flitting around a doorway, his heart skipped with the hope it might be you.

Finally Orlo settled in the library, hoping that if he could not read, he might find some solace wandering amongst the books. Hoping against hope that you would be there again.

He was so set upon his wallowing for the evening, that when you were there, he hardly noticed.

Orlo had closed the door behind him and wandered halfway across the room, before he heard your soft voice.

“Good evening.”

There had been precious little opportunity to speak in private before tonight, and now it was happening, Orlo had no idea what to do.

“Evening.”

You were sat at the oversized study table, which he recalled Peter ignoring lessons at when he was a child. Around you were a dozen chairs, the ghosts of academics which no longer existed in this part of Russia. He picked a book from the shelves blindly, and fumbled to smoothly pull a chair free of the part of the rug it had become stuck in.

You looked up at him, a few chairs down from the one he had chosen, and Orlo fumbled for words.

“Do you mind if I sit there?” he asked, suddenly struck by the fear he was intruding.

“Not at all,” you replied softly, “be my guest.”

In truth, Orlo realised he had little interest in the history volume he had picked up, and the moments passed interrupted only by the scratching of your pen. Long minutes stretched by, and yet he did not grow bored. Instead, Orlo found himself fixated on the thought of his body so close to yours in space.

Of what might be in your head, whether it might chime with what was in his.

“What are you writing?”

You looked up in confusion, your forearm curled around the page protectively, and he bit back an apology.

“Hm?”

“You’re writing, I assume? If it is not personal, of course.”

“Oh, no. It’s… it’s poetry. Nothing good, I’m afraid, I just… I admire a great many poets –”

“Me too!”

Orlo regretted his interruption at once, it had seemed like a wild thing, trapped in his chest and fighting to get out. You smiled at him, and he thought from the crinkling of your eyes it must be genuine, before continuing.

“Anyway, I just… I thought I would never know if I was any good at poetry if I never tried it.”

“That’s wonderful.”

You chuckled, and Orlo found himself smiling along for no reason he could name.

“How are you doing, then? Trying it?”

With a shrug, you gestured to the page in front of you, and Orlo could see you were halfway through a notebook.

“I’m doing okay. It’s a puzzle, but I enjoy it. Truly, it’s nothing special, but I find it settles my mind.”

“Incredible,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help wondering if he was teasing you.

“Do you write?”

“Poetry? No!”

Startled, Orlo stopped attempting to read what was on your page, and instead found himself staring at your face. A prospect which induced his heart to beat even faster.

“Could I read anything of yours?”

It was impertinent to ask. He had predicted the hesitation on your face, anticipated the moment you could freeze and turn your face away from him as embarrassment burned at your cheeks.

It was worth it, though, for the moment he watched you stand and pull a book from the shelves opposite the table. It was smaller than all the others, without an ornate cover, and as you thumbed through the pages Orlo could see it was entirely handwritten as many of the older tomes in the library were.

“This is my favourite piece,” you offered, handing the open book to him.

Orlo thought he would melt to the floor, holding his breath as he read, and you watched with an intensity he had never seen from you amongst the frivolities of court.

“I wonder if you studied under Dante himself?” he finally commented.

Orlo was delighted at your response, the fear you might misunderstand him entirely gone.

“Actually, I wrote something closer to his tone – though obviously incomparable…”

As you flitted through the pages, a furrow in your brow, Orlo could only stare.

The evening passed in moments of silence and moments of laughter after that moment. You were selective in the pages you showed him, glancing nervously if his fingers strayed to turn a page.

Yet you trusted him. You returned to your words as he read, and laughed in delight as he praised your work. You had moved a seat closer to him, and brought the candles around both of you, and if Orlo focused for long enough he imagined he could feel the heat of your body in the cool night.

When the night finally grew too late, you excused yourself with a sincere regret that made Orlo’s heart ache with hope. He took the book to his room, and devoured it cover to cover, in a way only someone with a true love of a poet can.

Between each piece he thought, trying to imagine where your mind had been as you wrote it.

The tone oscillated between love and loss and distress and simple joy, from piece to piece and stanza to stanza, and some hidden part of Orlo felt voyeuristic to have such a sudden insight into your inner life.

Each page was written with the tempo of good poetry, a few dozen meticulously penned words, followed by a flowing stanza of more rushed handwriting – as though you were desperate to get the words onto the page as inspiration struck.

When he finally fell asleep, it was with a jolt awake, as he carefully removed your book from where it had fallen atop his sheets and placed it on his bedside table.

When Orlo awoke, there was a sealed letter on his desk. It bore no other markings, not even his name – though once the page was snapped open the handwriting seemed as familiar as his own.

Time is curious, how it hangs around us

Languorous when it seems abundant, and short when it is scarce

An hour of joy lasts barely a blink,

A second of sorrow long enough to wrinkle crows feet.

Time is not told by the clock, but by the heart as it beats.

Orlo, my days here are often meandering,

Filled with banality,

Yet I find time flies, when you are near me.

Once Orlo had finished reading, he sat on the chaise by the door, and he read again. By the morning light streaming through the windows. In the privacy of his bed, curled up against the pillows, pulling the paper to his chest once he had read. Finally, he put the paper down and rushed to the door, only to return and read it again.

When he found you, it was at the breakfast hall, your meal long abandoned and your eyes firmly set upon the main doors. He had taken a shortcut, and watched you for so long he interrupted the servers and feared you would catch him staring as they swerved, swearing, around him.

It would be a decade before Orlo acted as a proxy to help you publish your first collection of poems, but his decision was made in that moment. Once your eyes met his, the time flew by.

#is this techincally a drabble?#count orlo x reader #count orlo #count orlo fic #13atoms #fic #requested #this would've been half an hour back in the day #now it takes like 3 days #wild #If you have anything negative to say about the poem just know #I’ll kill this blog and then myself #ily requesting anon give me a shout if you want to be fwiends

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