#i should at least enjoy that which was... considerate of him

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!Alastor with gender-neutral!tinkerer!reader headcanons

Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied manipulation, and knowledge based on the 2019 pilot episode.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

If you would like to read the SFW version of these headcanons, there are some written by @isuckatwritingsobenice. I will leave the link to them here.

Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @angelltheninth, and @ceoofdabicorpsensfw for providing feedback and helping me shape up these headcanons into what they are today, my first Hazbin Hotel fic in quite a long time!

If you would like to me to keep up the momentum and write more for Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, please let me know via a request or in the comments section below!

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!

He will not fall for someone who is naive and oblivious to the dangers that lurk around every corner. His preference for a darling is someone who is intelligent, yet malleable to his manipulative machinations, though he would call it being a considerable gentleman.

So, imagine his surprise when you, the maintenance operator Charlie had hired during the hotel’s open house after being thoroughly impressed with your resume, piqued his interest. He had heard that you were very good at repairing broken things. Whatever it was that needed to be fixed, you could do it efficiently and with a smile.

The only thing you would not touch, however, were Angel’s sex toys. He found you at Husk’s bar, whining and clutching what looked like a purple cucumber with a white handle, coated in….an unknown substance. You looked at it, then back at Angel, confused and blinking owlishly at him. You asked him to hold it up in the light so you could see it, just don’t let it touch you because…well, you really did not want to.

The adult film star did, and you tilted your head to the side, staring at it for a moment before pulling away.

“It should be an easy fix.” You said. “Do you think it is a higher priority than preventing the hotel from being flooded with water?” You asked, glancing up at him. The genuinity in your voice as you spoke to him, curious and asking if fixing his device is really more important at the moment, made Alastor chuckle from the shadows. Dear ol’ Husker looked like he was about to keel over from laughter too~!

“If it’s an easy fix like ya say it is, then yes!” Angel whined. “I need it fixed by tomorrow! Can ya maybe work on it, like, after you make sure this place doesn’t get flooded?”

You blinked. “That shouldn’t be an issue. Okay. Did you try looking for the manual in the box it came in?”

“There’s a manual for it in there?!”

You nodded. “There should be. Or at least a phone number for customer service.”

Oh, such dialogue between two unique characters brightened Alastor’s mundane afternoon considerably and deepened his interest in the ever diligent and mild-mannered sinner who never seemed to stop working!

He watched you from the shadows, learning about your likes and dislikes and your….relationships with the others, clients and hotel staff alike. None of which, as he has seen, never went beyond the boundary of polite professionalism. Imagine his surprise when his shadow discovered your daily ritual to lock yourself in the maintenance office and curl up on the couch in there for an hour nap, and how you cannot sleep without the vintage radio on your desk being played on low volume. As much as he wanted to sweep you off of your feet with a night around the city and a lovely candlelit dinner, Alastor could not act too recklessly. That wasn’t how his mother raised him. No, no, no, he was a gentleman!

And a gentleman knows how to bide his time in the art of courting. Expect him to flood your office with bouquets, expensive gifts, and a request to personally fix his microphone even when it was working just perfectly.

Who knows? Perhaps while you’re sleeping soundly, in your office or in your bedroom, he will turn the knob of your radio just a little to the left so it is the music of his radio station that fills the silence. Think of it as….insurance. With the magic he possessed as an overlord, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to comprehend that he did care about you in his own way. And he would like to think you will, in time, come to enjoy his music with a smile.

After all, you’re never fully dressed without one!

Bonus Content

If you accept his courtship, Alastor’s possessiveness will reach to the point where he will absolutely insist that you should move into his quarters and share the bed. For his peace of mind and your own protection.

After all, you’re his precious little doe. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in this cesspool~.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@selineram3421

@vikkirosko

@nixie-writes

@thatstonedwriter

@lbcreations-blog

@aurora-rose-miller

@yosemitecleo

@doc-tooth

#hazbin hotel #forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #ns.fw #hazbin alastor #alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere romance #gn!reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere headcanons #yandere #hazbin hotel headcanon #cw stalking #cw violence #cw obsessive behavior #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #tw violence #hazbin hotel 2024 #yandere alastor

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 18 — TOYS

PAIRING: haechan x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, use of toys (vibrator, hand cuffs, and dildo), mutual masturbation, usage of nicknames, haechan is a perv and so are you.

WC: 1.3k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! hyuck and @jaeminvore never fail to make me go feral istg, i hope you all enjoy reading this :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“If you wanted it so much then you could have just asked for it, sweetheart.”

The voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes opening to see a very smug smile plastered onto your roommate’s face, having caught you in the act of pleasuring yourself with what? A mere vibrator.

You were beyond embarrassed, also frozen as you did not expect to see him back at your shared apartment so early. He was solid two hours early as per his usual schedule, which gave you the perfect opportunity to play with yourself in the privacy of your room, not caring about being loud whenever he was out.

Problem? It was your roommate you always fantasized about while giving attention to your needy cunt, he was irresistibly attractive, and so was your insatiable need to have him, yet you couldn’t quite go to tell him the same, to maintain the decorum of being roommates and all.

Now, Haechan wasn’t a saint by any means. He had lost the count of times he had successfully stolen your panties (especially your white lace ones with the small bow in the middle), from the laundry basket, using the already soiled cloth to jerk off, wrapping it around his cock, his cum straining it further (but you did not need to know about that).

He too was equally as depraved when it came to fantasies—you being the reason and root of the core for the majority of his fantasies at least.

So, when he returned home early, only to hear your sweet moans lingering in the air, he knew he had to take his chances and intrude in hopes of catching you in the act.

What he did not expect, however, was to hear you whimper out his name with your eyes closed, legs spread enough to give him the clearest view of your wetness, along with the pink vibrator which you had been using to stimulate your swollen clit.

That’s exactly when he said that sentence, making you halt your movements altogether, yours legs closing with panic when he took a step inside the room.

“Though, I’m really offended if you think that a measly little vibrator will make you feel half as good as I can,” he spoke up, clicking his tongue before pushing it against his inner cheek, something he did when he was annoyed, or feigned annoyance if you take the current situation into consideration.

“Fuck! Hyuck, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know y—you’d be home,” you stated rambling, covering yourself up by side, avoiding eye contact at all costs, but he was quick to chuckle hearing your sentence.

“Shh, darling. You should be happy I’m here to help now. And since I’m so generous, I’ll be keeping the punishment time short,” he mused with amusement, yet you could see the glimpse of darkness in his eyes, swarmed with the desire he’s been holding back all this while.

You gulped, your hands barely hiding your tits as Hyuck shamelessly gave your body a once over, mumbling pretty under his breath.

“What do you mean? P—punishment?” You whispered, and Hyuck could have sworn the sight of you being confused and breathless made him want to ruin you.

He walked closer, leaning against your bed and closing the distance between you two, lips brushing against each other in a gentle caress, which sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel just how soft his lips felt, and you hadn’t even kissed him.

“So fucking cute,” he chuckled, “now be a good girl and open your legs for me if you wanna be fucked properly,” he whispered, his warm hand resting on your thigh, parting them and you gasped when the sudden gust of cold air hit your wetness.

“Fucked? Wait, Hyuck what?” You mumbled, lips on the verge of touching his and your heart felt weaker than ever.

“Just follow what I say, yeah?” He raised his brows, nodding and you found yourself in a daze, nodding back.

Then he leaned back, not giving you the kiss you were so desperately waiting for, rather, he bent down to get a box from below your bed, your eyes widening because Hyuck was not supposed to know where you hid your box of sex toys.

“Be good and you’ll get what you want, baby,” he smirked, seeing how innocent you looked, especially when he handcuffed your hands to the bedpost, getting your blue vibrating dildo out and keeping it beside you.

Your eyes were fixated on his figure, your breath hitching when he took off his T-shirt in one go, exposing his pretty melanin and the faintest abs, which was probably the prettiest sight you had even seen.

He then sat down on the couch right in front of your bed, spreading his legs as he sat, hand resting on his hardening cock. The print of his length was visible through his shorts, your mouth open and dry as the thoughts of wanting to have him in your mouth took over.

“Get that toy, baby. Let me see you pleasure yourself,” he urged, voice sultry and eyes hooded.

“Wait—you won’t touch me?” You asked, sitting with your one wrist cuffed, disappointment clear in your voice.

“So eager to be touched by me, sweetheart? First show me how much you want it,” he said, palming his cock through his pants.

Your body felt warm. Hyuck’s aura was strong, his gaze even stronger and you found yourself following his directions simply because you wanted to be good for him, your subspace pulling you right in.

“C’mon, baby. Show me how you use that dildo, and think of me while you do it,” he commanded.

You picked it up from your free hand, shyly spreading your legs to make space for it, switching it on and rubbing it all over your wet folds, eyes closing as you thought about Hyuck’s tongue, wanting it to replace the toy.

“Hyuck,” you whispered, the toy prodding at your entrance.

“Fuck,” he bit his lip, the sight in front of him was lewd yet the most innocent thing ever, he couldn’t help but get rid of his shorts, stroking his fully hardened cock now.

“Good girl, put it in your tight little cunt,” he said.

You nodded, eyes still closed and breathing ragged, a low moan leaving your lips, which caused Hyuck’s cock to twitch as you pushed the vibrating phallic in you, thighs closing and opening again at the sensation.

A whine of his name left your mouth again, and he could have sworn it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. You continued your ministrations, leaving the dildo in your cunt and pressing a small vibrator on your clit, doubling the feeling of your unadulterated pleasure, your eyes watering when you saw him fucking his fist at the sight of you touching yourself.

It was too hot for you to handle.

“Yes, baby. Let go for me,” he whispered, watching your body shake and a tear falling down your cheek.

That’s it, that was your punishment—watching Hyuck touch himself but not touching you, which left you frustrated.

An irritated sound left your lips, causing him to chuckle and approach you again.

“What’s wrong, darling? Not satisfied?” He asked, mocking you.

“Please,” you said in a small voice.

“Hm?” He asked, urging you to speak louder.

“Please touch me—fuck me,” you begged, surprising yourself as you had never been this desperate before, your body shivering as it ached for him.

His eyes darkened, his carnal desires taking over, “I hope you’re ready to be fucked all night, darling,” he said, voice deep and promising.

That’s all he said before capturing your lips into a deep kiss, pulling you closer by your neck, your knees weaker than ever as he bit your lower lip, making you go feral with just one action.

Oh you so knew it was going to be a long (and adventurous) night.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#🎫 — kinktober! #ria:kinktober #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan au #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #nct fanfic #lee haechan smut #kpop smut

[vhagarlovebot]

FRUSTRATION.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: prince aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: aemond had a terrible day and he puts all his frustration on you.

content warnings: hurt/comfort, wife!reader, aemond says some mean things, mentions of blood, happy ending.

notes: if there are any grammatical errors i apologize, english is not my first language! hope you enjoy.

YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN aemond acting like this before. with you he was always caring and considerate. if he was upset he’d never show it in front of you. that’s why you never believed the words that reached your ears saying that your husband needed to work on his anger, always going off on people.

at least it was that way until now.

he has just entered your chambers, not a single glance in your direction, sitting by the fireplace with a book in hand, and went straight to the vanity by the window.

he starts taking off his gloves and setting aside his dagger. and having missed him all day you leave what you are doing to go help him with his coat. at least he lets you help him before pulling away.

you smile fondly at him, even though he still does not look at you. "how was your day?" leaving the coat on the back of the chair you reach for him, but aemond turns his back to you.

that is a strange behavior but you don't think too much about it, opting instead on busying yourself by pouring tea, which you had just ordered before aemond arrived.

"helaena and i went for a walk through the gardens earlier this evening," he usually asks about your day but he seems just too tired to do more than just stare out the window. "she has expressed how much she misses you, my prince. you should visit her,"

"some of us have actual things to do." he mutters and you feel a pang in your heart at the coldness in his voice.

he looks imposing with his hands behind his back and only the light coming from the candles lightning up his profile.

"i am sure your sister will understand," you smile at him when, for a moment, his piercing gaze falls on you. "if i may say, i think it would be good if you rest for a day or two."

"no, you may not."

aemond finally turns around but you don't feel the comfort and peace your husband usually exudes. he's looking at you with such a harsh look on his face that, for a second, you don't recognize him.

"i have got responsibilities," his eye is eager and darting, nostrils flaring. "had you not married a prince then you would know what that means."

the confused look that crosses your face is not enough to stop him.

"you should try to look beyond the red keep every now and then to know the real meaning of that word."

his words are like a slap in the face, leaving you breathless and unable to compose yourself.

have you done something to upset him? as you turn around you try to think about everything you did and said since this morning when he left to start his day, he was gentle and sweet, even blowing you a kiss before disappearing behind the door. and you did not see each other all day, so this has nothing to do with you.

however, his words hurt the same.

you grab the cup of tea, slowly walking to where he is standing. "i'm sure you are right- but i was princess helaena lady-in-waiting..."

"and you believe that is enough to learn about responsibility? making sure the princess attends the events where she is needed, that all her garments are properly clean. to be careful not to mess up her hair-"

he doesn't finish his sentence because as he turns around, he's meet with your chest. the tea cup falls to the floor, shattering at your feet, and making you yelp a little.

aemond is immediately by your side, his hands touching every inch of your body. "are you good? did you get hurt?" there is regret in his eye and a worried look on his handsome features. only when he's absolutely sure you’re fine, he drops to his knees to try and clean the mess that he just made.

you come back to reality when he's muttering between his teeth, gathering the broken pieces on his hands. "my prince, you don't have to-" he groans, a piece of ceramic cutting his hand. "aemond!" you help him back to his feet, guiding him to a chair in front of the fireplace.

you are quick to fill a bowl with water and bring it with you to where he's waiting, blood dripping from the cut. kneeling between his legs you wet a cloth to start treating the wound, but aemond stops you. he doesn't say anything and you smile shyly at him, resuming your task.

"there are different types of responsibility and maybe some are more important than others, perhaps some of them also require a higher level of commitment," you say absentmindedly, cleaning the wound very carefully and wincing when he hisses.

"you don't need to explain it to me," his free hand caresses your cheek, a sad smile across his lips. "i was out of line."

"you will get no argument from me." that makes him chuckle but the shadow of guilt falls upon his face. "you know i used to take care of my family when my mother died."

"i should have not said those awful things to you, i do not mean them." you barely finished securing the bandage when his hands are immediately picking you up and making you sit on his lap. "i am not excusing myself, but i had a terrible day and instead of just saying that i wanted to be held in your arms, i let out all my frustration on you."

you feel sorry for him, although his words still sting a little. but he is your husband and if marriage is not about learning and forgiving, then why are you with him?

"next time you will sleep in the hall." he holds you close, his hands stroking your back.

"there won't be a next time. or i will feed myself to vhagar."

you giggle, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. "let's just hope there won't be a next time. i'm looking forward to growing old with you, my prince."

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond fic #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

oh my god there are so many good choice on the touching prompt list for Ace!Tav and Astarion. But since it’s first numerically may I please request 3?

Summary: You finally arrive in Baldur's Gate and you can't sleep. Normally this would mean taking the nearest instrument and playing until your hands are raw. Luckily for your fingers, Astarion is there to listen.

Prompt: hiding face in neck

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

A/N: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get to this. I swear to god I wrote like five different versions of this thing. Let's give it up for over writing! Enjoy.

Word Count: 1.8K

The night felt oddly still for Baldur’s Gate. You’d traveled so far, done and seen so much and you were finally here.  It should have brought you relief; instead, all you could think about was all you had left to do. There were still the tadpoles to deal with and devils and gods and frankly all the things you’d never given a second thought to the last time you stepped through the gates. Perhaps the city felt it as well, collectively holding its breath for whatever was coming next. 

You let out a deep sigh, staring up at the darkened ceiling. There would be no hope of sleep tonight. The best you could do was find a way to pass the hours without going mad.  

As carefully as you could, you slipped out of bed, mindful of Astarion resting soundly next to you. For all your troubles, they were nothing compared to the horrors coming for him.  You wouldn’t disturb his rare moment of peace for the world. 

In easy strides you grabbed your lute and made your way to the balcony where a comfortable enough chaise awaited you. 

No lamps were needed. Between the moon and the street lamps below, you could see well enough to play for an audience of one. 

You started with something easy, plucking out a handful of scales to warm up your hands. It didn’t take long after that for a melody to form, pushing your worries further and further away. Lyrics slipped their way past your lips in whispers and half remembered hums. You were here. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You had control over your body and the sounds pulled from the instrument in your hands. There was still time. The morning hadn’t found you yet.

Soft footsteps approached from behind you; the obvious padding of bare feet on wooden floor boards given just enough extra weight so as not to startle you.  Astarion could be very considerate at times. 

You paused your hands, turning to face him. 

“Sorry, was I playing too loud?” 

“Not at all,” he assured. “How else was I supposed to find you after waking to a cold, empty bed?”

You had to at least smile at his dramatics, which seemed to please him as he stepped further onto the balcony. 

The light of the moon gave his already pale skin and iridescent glow. His silver curls were just a little ruffled from their perfect coif as his eyes held you with a tired softness that made you ache. It was in moments like this you remembered why poetry existed; paints, canvas, marble, clay, they were too clumsy of tools to capture all of him.  

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, pulling you from your musings. 

“Just needed to clear my head,” you said. “Didn’t want to bother anyone with my plucking.”

“Perish the thought. I rather enjoy your plucking.” He nodded to the empty spot next to you. “May I?” 

You couldn’t think of a reason to argue, so you didn’t try. Astarion had proved himself one of the few people you could enjoy a peaceful silence with. So long as he didn’t expect you to entertain him, there was no harm done. 

You scooted over to allow him room. 

He took it, only to pull you against him, caging you between his legs. 

You gave a small yelp of surprise, only just managing to keep hold of your lute. “What are you doing?” 

“Making myself comfortable.” His hands found your waist, pulling you closer so your back rested against his chest while his chin made a home on your shoulder. “Go on dearest, start plucking.”

You snorted out a laugh. Gods above, he really was a cat sometimes. He didn’t ask for attention so much as demand it and in a way only the most heartless could be upset by. 

“It’s rather difficult for me to perform with my back to the audience,” you said as some attempt at protest. 

He gave a noncommittal hum. “I’m inclined to disagree. But if it does bother you, consider me a humble patron observing a rehearsal.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  

Settling back as best you could, you began again, humming a tune to yourself as you worked out the cords. 

A different kind of peace settled over you as he held you. You had come here to be alone, something you had gotten used to over the years. Astarion didn’t have to be here with you, but he was. He chose to sit here in the dark and listen as you played your troubles into the air. It was an alien comfort, one that still left you a little unsure, but it was a comfort nonetheless. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one before,” Astarion observed, gently breaking the silence. 

“I would think not, seeing how it’s only been in my head for the last few months,” you teased. 

He nodded as you felt him shift awkwardly beneath you. “Far be it for me to speak on your artistic vision, but is it meant to be so repetitive?”

You stopped your playing as a flush of warmth came to your cheeks. There was a reason why rehearsals were usually kept private. “Sorry, can’t seem to find the ending.”

“Might be easier if you wrote it down,” he suggested. 

“That would require me knowing how.” 

“You don’t know how to write music?” He sounded so genuinely surprised, you had to laugh. 

“Love, I don’t even know how to read it.”

“Really?” 

You shrugged. “Just not how I learned. They weren’t exactly letting riff raff like me into the conservatory.”

You could all but feel the furrow of his brow as his chin pressed against your shoulder. “So every song you’ve ever played, original or otherwise, you taught yourself, by ear, and stored away in that head of yours?”

“You make it sound more impressive than it actually is. Plenty of bards do the exact same thing,” you dismissed.  

He hummed in thought. “Perhaps. It does explain why so many of them don’t seem to have anything going on behind the eyes.”

“I’ll try not to be insulted.” 

“Present company excluded,” he amended, pressing a kiss to the back of your ear for good measure. “Why do you think I’m so impressed? Beauty, talent and brains are such a rare combination.” 

You gave a small huff, earning you another kiss on the temple.

“I’m sure we could find somebody in the city to teach you,” he offered. 

You shook your head. “Not interested. Besides, I’ve found it an effective filtration method. If I can’t remember the tune the next day, it probably wasn’t worth learning in the first place.” 

“Oh darling, who knew you could be so cruel to your fellow artists,” he said, full of approval. “But, what about when a song of yours is done? Surely then it would be worth preserving.” 

“If I’ve done my job well, then the memories of those who have heard it will be preservation enough,” you said. “It’s how all the best songs are passed on anyway. The specifics of who wrote it and when get lost, but the melody remains. It stays in the world because people want it to stay in the world. I think there’s a kind of poetry in that.” 

He let out a long exasperated sigh. “How nauseatingly romantic of you. One little problem though, people’s memories are shit. Give it a few centuries and it will barely resemble the original. At least if you write it down they can’t muck it up.”

“It’s obvious you haven’t met many musicians,” you said, dryly. “People are always going to have their own interpretations. Putting it down on paper doesn’t make it any less a memory. Personally, I’d rather keep it living in the mind than in a stagnant drawer somewhere.” 

“Or I can just make sure nothing happens to the original.” 

He tried to keep his voice light, but there was promise beneath that tingled at the back of your neck. His arms held you a little more tightly. His body tensed. It was as if he was trying to guard you from something, but who or what you could only guess at. 

“Astarion–”

“Don’t,” he said, sharply. “I know you want to say something comforting and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear you go on about memory or legacy or things to remember after you’re gone, because you’re not gone. You’re here. You’re here with me, and I don’t care who I have to kill or what bargains I need to make, but I’m not letting you go.”  

He turned his face into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. To your surprise, no teeth accompanied the gesture. He just breathed, inhaling your scent deep into his lungs. His touch lingered on your skin as some of the tension left his body; the steady beating of your heart calming him. 

“I don’t want memories,” he whispered. “I just want you.”

Your lips parted to speak, but quickly closed. You knew there was a correct thing to say. Letting go was a part of life, whether you liked it or not. Sooner or later, everyone became a memory; but, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear and that wasn’t what you felt. 

The promise he made wasn’t some collection of meaningless words, but a desperate, blood soaked plea. For the first time in so long, you knew somebody would be upset if you died, not for the loss of income or poetry, but because you would be gone. 

You wanted to tell him you loved him. You wanted to tell him you didn’t just want memories either. You wanted to make the same promise and then hide away somewhere safe where the world wouldn’t dare touch either of you; but, you didn’t say that either. 

Instead you placed your hand over his, squeezing his fingers. 

“You have me,” you said, softly. “I’m right here.”

A shuddering breath left his body, as if all the emotion he had been containing was suddenly pushed from his lungs. His arms stayed around you, but his whole body relaxed as his head found a new place to live buried in your neck. 

“Keep playing, my heart,” he said. “Don’t stop.” 

How could anyone say no to such a request? 

Your hands found a melody, different from the one before; something complete and familiar. As soon as the song finished you transitioned to another and then another, never stopping until Astarion’s hold became slack and his breathing turned deep and steady, signaling his trace. Only then did you set down your lute and curled into his arms to finally sleep. 

You would finish your composition another night. The morning would find you, but you had time. Air moved in and out of your lungs. Your heart still beat. You were here and you were going to stay. 

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #asexual #asexual!tav #asexaul!reader #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Grimmjow Smut*~

“One bed trope” & Rutting/breeding

The Quincy war had ended. Soul society had began rebuilding from the ruins, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Buildings had been rebuilt, the 13 divisions coming together in unity after the destruction and loss you all endured. The new head captain, previous captain of the 8th, Shunsui Kyoraku, had led the shinigami into the new world created. Along with the new found peace, soul society had gained some new recruits. One of them being the former Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

A brutally gruff man with a lethally short temper and a thirst for battle that rivalled that of Captain Kenpachi. After his efforts in support of the war and the glowing recommendations given by war hero Kisuke Urahara, he had been granted a place in the goeti 13 court guards.

Unfortunately, due to your inability to say no and your constant need to appease your superiors, you had been landed with the gruelling task of "teaching Grimmjow the ropes" so to speak. The arrancar had seemed just as disappointed by this match up as you were. Arms permanently crossed over his muscular chest, he had spent the majority of the past three days of your journey glaring at you. Which was preferable to the snide comments and rumbling growls he otherwise offered you.

You couldn't wait to make it back to the Seireitei, the last leg of your journey should have you arriving back by late morning tomorrow. You would suggest walking through the night to end the painful silence sooner, if not for the angry black clouds rolling closer at a rapid pace. The temperature had lowered considerably, your brisk walking thankfully warming you sufficiently. You pulled the map from your sash, eye brows furrowed as you came to a stop and tried to figure out how far away you were from the inn you had reserved for the night.

"how much longer?" your unwilling companion grumbled from behind you. Fighting the urge to throw the map at his head, you concentrated on the markings.. it's going to be at least another three hours of Mr. Sunshine's radiant personality.

"Are you deaf, woman?! "  Grimmjow growled, testing your patience "How much longer? It's going to rain soon" 

Folding the map back up, you took your time placing it securely in your sash as the winds picked up around you. The fact that you were waiting until you were finished before addressing the crude brute, was less about the efficiency of securing your map and more because you enjoyed making him wait. "About three hours Grimmjow. Four if you keep wasting time bitching" 

"I ain't bitching! It's gunna rain! " he roared at your retreating back, you started back on your journey, not waiting to see if he would follow

"aww, is the kitty scared of a little rain?" You unkindly teased over your shoulder. You heard the rumble deep in his chest, clearly about ready to snap

"I ain't scared of nothing!" such eloquent grammar the Espada exhibited. "Damn bitch, can't you feel the storm coming? Fucking weak shiningami" 

"Listen, Grimmjow, the longer you stand there arguing with me, the longer we'll be stuck in the storm you're so desperately trying to avoid "  you turn to face him, started a little by how he looked. He looked frenzied. Blue hair sticking out as though he had been running his fingers through it. His skin looked clammy and flushed, face had a dull pink tinge, unlike the brilliant red you had witnessed during a screaming rampage. His arms tensed at his sides, bulging biceps trembling minutely as his fists opened and closed in tight fists.

His eyes looked wild. The brilliant blue seemed faded with an animalistic sheen. Blown pupils darted around erratically, avoiding looking straight at you. He must really hate getting wet. The fight left you at the sight of him. Sighing, you offer an alternative, as much as he was getting on your last neves, it really wasn't in you to be intentionally cruel, "there's a trapper shack about fifteen minutes up the side road. It won't be as nice as the inn, but providing there's no one there we should be able to survive one night" 

He clenched his jaw, offering you a tight nod. Taking the hint, you resumed your leading, teetering off the main road to follow the dusty beaten path.

—————————————————

"you've got to be kidding me"

You weren't some materialistic princess, you could slum it with the best of them. Getting your hands dirty had never phased you. The state of the shack, however, was pushing it. The howling wind ripped through the barely held together shack, forcing its way through the rotting wooden slats. Every inch of the place was covered in a sheet of dust, the muddy floor held long forgotten footprints of past hunters. A sooty fire pit sat in the middle of the room, jagged rocks forming a wobbly circle, small hole in ten roof above to allow ventilation for the smoke.

There was a helpful pile of dried logs near the beaten door, clawing onto its hinges desperately. The one saving grace, as it had been pelting down with heavy rain the past ten minutes, the chance of you finding any dry wood outside was slim to absolutely fucking impossible. What made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, however, was the single bed pushed into the corner of the room. Thin blanket messily thrown over the questionably stained mattress, two pillows long since lost their plump plush. Two Tatami mats pushed against the opposite wall, probably stoping the wall from tumbling over.

"move" Grimmjow pushed his way into the shack, nudging your shoulder harshly. Shaking him self, not dissimilar to the way a dog would rid its fur of water. Grimmjow looked around the room, Unphased by the grimy appearance. He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "Not up to your standards princess? "  he sneered in your direction, foot kicking the rocks around the fire pit. "Afraid you'll break a nail?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage in his snappy remarks. Closing the door behind you, silently pleading with it to stay standing at least til morning, you reached down to grab a couple of different sized logs. Stacking them near the fire pit, you pulled off your backpack, digging through your preserves to find your flint and steel and a pouch of dry kindling.

Kneeling onto the cold ground, you arranged the kindling into a loose pile, striking the flint and steel sending sparks into the bundle. When glowing embers caught, you lifted the pile to your mouth, blowing steadily until a small flame licked to life. Satisfied you began placing twigs into a teepee, watching as they caught light. Silently to built up the pile until a controlled fire crackled in the middle of the room, giving off its roaring heat.

Grimmjow had leaned himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Legs crossed at the ankles, he had been staring at you, watching as you created fire.

"No thanks Grimmjow, I don't need any help. Thanks for asking"  You sarcastically remark. The answering scoff you received at least let you know sarcasm was something even hollows understood. Too tired to cook yourself a meal, you pulled out some jerky and a pre-made rice ball for your dinner. Grimmjow didn't need anything to eat. While, you discovered, he could eat human food, he could also be satisfied by chomping down on smaller hollows.

That was a sight you wouldn't forget in a hurry. The animalistic way he leaped at the hollows you had encountered earlier in the day. Sharp teeth ripping into the flesh of the howling beasts with a sadistic grin on his face. Grimmjow swallowing those mouthful's of hollow flesh was something else entirely.

Banning the memory from your mind so not to completely ruin your appetite, you moved to sit on the bed, trying not to think about what that stain was. Grimmjow hadn't moved from his space as far away from you as the cabin allowed. Mindlessly chewing at your food, your eyes started to wander. His fingers had gripped into his biceps, the indents pushed into the flesh looked painful. He kept shifting his weight between his feet, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.

Your chewing slowed as you regarded him. You were in from the rain, drying nicely from the heat provided by the fire. So why did he look just about ready to claw his own skin off? Perhaps he was dreading the sleeping arrangements as much as you were

"so" you started the awkward conversation after swallowing the last of your light meal. He tilted his chin into your general direction at your conversation starter "how are we doing this?"

He jerked his head fully to you then, eyes widened "we ain't doing anything" his husky voice rumbled. It was your turn to tilt you head, this time in confusion

"sleeping arrangements? There's only one bed" you emphasised the point by tapping the bed below you. You see the realisation dawn on his face before pushing it away with a sneer. You couldn't fathom what he could've been so worried about

"pfft, you take it, don't wanna hear your bitching all night if you had to sleep on the floor." Grimmjow moved to the tatami mats leaning against the wall, throwing them unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. You were pleased to see they weren't hiding a gaping hole in the wall. Grimmjow fell backwards onto the mat, crossing his arms under his head and stared at the wooden roof.

Not letting the comment slide, you picked up one sorry excuse for a pillow, throwing it harder than necessary to flop anticlimactically on Grimmjow's stomach. You received a growl for your efforts. Throwing a couple more robust logs on the fire to ensue heat for hopefully the whole night, you felt confident to change into your sleeping gown and not freeze to death. While it showed more skin than your regulation issued shinigami uniform and as much as you didn't relish in the thought of rolling about on that dirty mattress all night with more on show, you hated the confines of clothing while you slept. You would just have to scrub extra hard in your bath the next day.

Locating your gown in your backpack, you climbed under the covers to change, folding up your uniform neatly and laying it atop your bag. Though it would've been easier staying dry in a shower, you snuggled under the blanket trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The raging storm outside helped ease you into blissful unconsciousness, hoping that by morning the storm would've passed along with Grimmjows pissy mood

You wouldn't hold your breath though

——————————————————

When your eyes snapped open way too soon for it yet to be morning, you had first assumed it was the storm still raging outside that had woken you up. You remained staring at the wall, not wanting to risk waking Grimmjow, less you wanted to deal with his moody ass at being woken. The fire was still breathing, judging by the heat at your back. You listened to the usual sounds of the storm, rumbling thunder in the distance, they ruthlessly pelting rain hitting the roof, howling wind whipping through the trees. Yet sleep avoided you.

That's when you heard the shuffle of clothes rubbing together and a throaty grunt. You roll your eyes, of course the bastard moved around in his sleep. You tried to force yourself back to sleep, but the noises never stopped. You could hear his knuckles crack as they gripped the side of the tatami mat, puff of air escaping the spongy padding.

He squirmed around noisily, small grunts and husky grumbles accompanying his heavy breathing. You sigh loudly, the room stilling. A pregnant pause followed. Pleased with the silence you closed your eyes again, trying to drift off.

A chesty rumble and a thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting the mat had you flipping over, leaning up on your elbow to glare at the Espada "Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Nothing". He tightly snapped at you, lacking the usual hostility. He stared at the roof, refusing to look at you "go back to fucking sleep" 

"I can't, with all your moving around and grunting."  You try not to sound condescending, but really, who could sleep through all that racket. "What's the problem? Are you cold or something? I could put another log on the fire..?"

"Its rutting season" he growled out deeply, voice so thick and sticky he almost choked on the words... Rutting season? Oh. Oh  That'll explain the frenzied look he sported earlier. You were at a loss of what to say, what could you say? Shinigami didn't go through anything so animalistic

"can't you just..? Ignore it?" You ask, ignorance showing

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" He snapped at you, patience clearly wearing thin

"making a fucking racket" you grumble back "can't you.. step outside.. take care of it?"

He snorted at your suggestion, legs moving around on the mat "damn shinigami, don't know nothing." 

"we don't have rutting seasons"  you reminded him softly

"It don't fucking work like that. Hands don't work. I gotta knot in a pussy" the crass wording had you sucking in a sharp breath. Not quite the civilised conversation you were anticipating, yet the next words sent a rush of heat rushing through you hotter than the fire itself "so unless your offering, shut the fuck up an go back to sleep"

Offering? To have sex with him? What an absurd notion. And yet... Grimmjow was good looking.. in a demented "I'll murder you and everyone you love" kinda way. Tall and with enough rippling muscles for three men. A cocky grin with surprisingly intriguingly sharp canines. While usually spitting insults, his voice was deep and sultry. And his hair, such an unusual colour, yet it fit him so perfectly.

It had been a while since you had indulged in that cardinal desire, your throbbing cunt attested to that. You could help him out.. if only to finally get some peace and quiet enough to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I'll help you" your voice sounded strained to your own ears. Grimmjow sat up suddenly at your words, staring at you as though you sprouted another head

"the fuck you just say?" Utter bewilderment filled his voice, lilt of eagerness filtering through

"I said, alright"it pained you to admit it, twice. "I won't be able to get any damn sleep until you stop moving around" 

Grimmjow pounced across the room, literally leaping through the air and landing easily on your bed. Feverish hands ripped off your blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you at his eager haste. Rough large hands ripped your gown from your body, jagged line separating the cloth covering your body. You glared at him, for ruining your favourite sleeping gown. He payed not attention, throwing the scraps of ruined material over the side of the bed.

He had a crazed look in his eyes, taken over with the animalistic urge to mate. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he removed his own top, you noticed how he didn't rip his clothing. Surging forward Grimmjow buried his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your scent filled his nostrils, eliciting a rumbling deep from his chest. You cry out as he bit down brutally, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh where neck joins shoulder.

His hips bucked against your covered core at the tang of blood seeping through to his tongue, deep rumbling escaping around the mouthful of neck he had in his mouth, reminding you of the purr of a cat. A big fucking cat. Mercifully releasing you, he swiped a strong, hot lick against the wound, cleaning up the drops of blood pulled out. Seemingly finished marking you, Grimmjow pushed away his pants, large cock bobbing heavily between you. Your eyes went wide at the sight, throat drying painfully.

He was huge. While similar to that of humans, it was bigger than any you had previously seen, by quite a few generous inches. And thick, you wouldn't be able to close your hand around the veiny girth to touch your fingertips. You couldn't tell if the weight appearing in your lower stomach was from dread or lustful excitement at the knowledge it would soon be inside you.

Ignoring your inner turmoil, Grimmjow ripped your panties off you next, throwing the scrap of material to join the rest. Angry retort died on your lips as he surged forward, attempting to thrust into you

"wait!" You nearly scream, holding him back by planting your hands firmly on his chest, twisting your leg to cover your opening. He gave you a warning growl, hand gripping your thigh roughly to move it back from denying him access, crazed instincts telling him to mount. The punch to the jaw you delivered brought him back to his senses some what

"what?" He asked through clenched teeth, finally making eye contact

"you can't just force it in" you said pointedly, glancing down at the angry purpling head of his dick. He gave you a questioning look, head tilted to the side in a feline manor. "You got to get me wet first"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, crawling down your body he crouched down to be eye level with your core, before spitting loudly straight onto your cunt. You felt the hot liquid hit you, and recoiled at the grotesque action. Your mind almost short circuited when he tried again to mount you. You planted a foot on his chest this time, pushing him back.

"fucking now what?!" he almost roared at you, getting frustrated at being denied what had already been offered.

"not like that ,you brute!"

"fucking woman! You said wet, that's wet!" He let out his frustration by pushing against your leg planted on his chest

"We aren't naturally wet inside, Grimmjow. We need to be stimulated by foreplay,". You spoke to him slowly, like teaching a child "you need to use your fingers or tongue to stretch me, your dick will rip me otherwise " you begrudgingly add, he definitely didn't need the ego boost of knowing he was very well endowed. He caught the meaning anyway, cocky smirk making a reappearance on his face. "Try and make me actually want to fuck you, for fucks sake" you add exasperated, flopping back onto the pillow.

This time you allowed him to remove your foot from his chest, letting it fall to the side, opening up your thighs. His wet, warm tongue suddenly tasted you in a steady lick up the slit of your cunt. You sigh, letting your eyes close to savour the feelings, letting yourself relax enough to enjoy it. He repeated the action, delving in between your folds a little more with every lick.

Grimmjow let his mouth salivate at the new taste, his animalistic side relishing in the musky taste of a mate. Letting his spit slide down onto his tongue to leave on your silky hot folds. A breathy moan escapes you, shooting straight to Grimmjows throbbing, neglected cock. He gave an answering growl, plunging his tongue deep into your depths, patience slowly but surly hitting their limits.

He needed to start rutting, and soon. Your own natural lubricant began coating his tongue, setting his tastebuds alight with the heady taste. Pushing his face in deeper, chasing the slightly salty tang, his nose brushed against something that made you jerk below him with a loud moan. He pulled out of you, lower face dampened by his sloppy work, in search for what made you call out.

At the top of your dusky pink cunt was a small protruding bump, inquisitively, he brushed his finger against it. Another moan ripped from you, back arching from the bed, thrusting your hips up encouragingly. Grimmjow rubbed against it again, getting the same reaction.

Not letting up on his thumb pressing against the little button that had you bucking like a bitch in heat, Grimmjow shoved two fingers inside you roughly. He could feel your tight inner walls sucking around his fingers, clenching them tightly. Thrusting them in and out quickly, gaining hardly any give in your vice like grip, Grimmjow sped up his movements, practically punching his knuckles either side of his submerged digits into the soft flesh on your pussy.

You writhed beneath him, pleasure outshining the pain he inflicted on your sensitive mound. A steady stream of appreciative moans left your lips, turning into keening groans as he added another finger, stretching you out in preparation for his even larger phallic. Lost in a sea of contradictory feelings, you didn't feel your orgasm approaching until it crashed over you, pulling you deeper into a spiral of blind bliss.

Grimmjow felt the sudden gush of liquid on his fingers, getting pushed out messily by his thrusting fingers. First he sneered, assuming you had disgustingly wet yourself, pissing all over his hand. Until his sensitive nose picked up the scent, the same heady musk he had tasted from within you. Mouth watering, wanting to taste the tangy substance once more, Grimmjow removed his soaked fingers, going straight to the source to drink down the glistening wetness.

Lust filled fog lifted slowly from your mind, feeling Grimmjow greedily lap at your spasming Cunt, you tried to push his head away. Grimmjow possessively growled into you, gripping your thighs to stop you denying him his reward.

"Grimmjow" you called to him to no prevail, he ignored your voice, lapping at you hungrily. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply. Like a cornered beast he pinned you to the bed by your wrists, staring challengingly into your eyes with a predatory look. His mouth was wet with your arousal, you could smell your scent on his chin as he tumbled above you in warning.

"Grimmjow," you tried again, submissively lowering your tone, whispering meekly. "You need to leave it wet, so you don't hurt me with your cock"

The mention of his cock seemed to remind him of the aching member hanging heavily between you. Releasing you with a huff, Grimmjow fisted himself, groaning at the full tug he gave himself. Lining up with your centre, he pushed in swiftly, burying himself as deep as he could go, stopping only when the engorged head of his dick bumped against your cervix. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, painfully stretching you beyond your limits. Your inner walls protested at the too big invasion, squeezing painfully around it.

Tears stung your eyes, mouth gasping to pull air into your lungs. It was too big, too much to handle. Grimmjow didn't allow you any time to adjust to the size, rutting his hips into you feverishly, cardinal desire to breed consuming his mind. You felt the burn as his rigid cock dragged against your walls, pushing against them unbending. Small sparks of pleasure tried to push through the overwhelming stretch, Grimmjow hitting every sweet spot mercilessly with each frenzied thrust. You concluded he was too big, too thick to miss, accuracy wouldn't be needed.

Grimmjows chest rumbled with a constant primal gravel. Pupils blown wide, the Panthera focused his gaze on the vivid bite mark on your neck. Powerful hips thrusted into you cruelly, chasing after his cardinal need to procreate. Dipping his head, Grimmjows lips found the swell of your breast, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth to clamp his teeth into. The cry you gave only spurred him on to leave his mark. The jagged tenth of his broken hollow mask scraped against your nipple, spike of pleasure burst through the pain.

At your whimper Grimmjow released you, deranged look in his eyes. You flinched when he lowered himself to your face, tilting your head to the side as a strained moan ripped from your throat. Half expecting another bite, your eyes closed, bracing for the new flash of pain. Instead of the sharp bite, you felt his tongue drag slowly up your cheek. The saltiness from your sweat flavoured your skin, Grimmjow hungrily sought out the delicacy, licking at your face protectively.

Rutting instincts being satisfied, the demented haze lessened enough for Grimmjow to filter through is own thoughts and wants. Seeing you panting beneath him, squirming in pleasure, face screwed up in painful bliss was a beautiful sight. But it wasn't what he wanted, what the alpha demanded of his willing mate.

The rough withdrawal of his dick had you gasping at the reprieve, legs fell flat to the bed heavily,muscles twitching in protest. The gap in the brutal penetration was short lived, however, when Grimmjow used his superior strength to throw you to your stomach. Equilibrium fighting to right itself, two large hands gripped painfully into your hips, forcibly dragging you to your knees. Round ass held in the air, glistening cunt on full display for his viewing pleasure.

The Espada slid his hand up the length of your back, cupping the back of your neck to push your face into the mattress. Pushing your hair away from the most delicate part of your neck, portraying the Vulnerable submission the alpha so desperately seeked. He thrusted his dick back into your dripping heat, claiming his mate.

Your back arched at the reappearance of his cock stretching you sinfully. Groaning with the wet slapping of skin meeting skin. Fingers dug into the fleshy part of your ass, kneeling the swell in his palms. Grimmjow had his eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled with every thrust, his cock disappearing into your hot, tight hole. Your wetness spraying out with every plunge, wetting his lower stomach and thighs.

The smell was intoxicating, addicting. Breathing deep he could almost taste the musky aroma, eliciting a feline hiss. His hands spread your ass cheeks revealing your puckered hole. Spitting loudly he watched as his saliva trickled down the valley between your cheeks, sliding over that hidden hole. Using a finger to gather the moisture, not wanting you to bitch at him again, the arrancar pushed his way through the tight ring of muscles.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, spent body easily accepting the new addition as you laid heavily into the mattress. His brutal thrusts hadn't let up through his curious exploration, steadily pushing you further towards the most natural of highs. Grimmjows chest swelled with pride of having calmed both of your holes, muscles squeezing devilishly tight.

The heat encasing his cock was driving him wild, with feral intensity, the instincts to breed filled him. Slipping from your ass, he gripped your hips bruisingly, snapping you back onto his rutting cock brutally. The pleasure filled scream you have had his balls tightening. He could feel the knot forming in the middle of his dick, getting caressed by the tight velvety walls with each drag of his impressive length

"m'gunna fill you full of pups" he growled out, panting harshly "gunna fill your cunt with my seed" 

You scream out in pleasure, the knot forming inside you pushing against your already straining walls, rubbing roughly against your pleasure spot hidden away in your depths. "Your mine" the growled word's emphasised with increasingly powerful thrusts. A hand left your hip, wrapping it around your throat to pull you back into a painful bend. "My mate" 

Sharp teeth sunk into the back of your neck, latching on viciously. Hot pants forced through his teeth, heating up the bruising skin trapped in their hold. A bright light burst from behind your eyes as you descended into euphoric darkness. Violent tremors raked through your body as you convulsed around the dick forcing you into the most powerful orgasm you had ever endured. The strong hold on your neck the only thing keeping you from spiralling into the darkness threatening to pull you under.

The impossibly tight, the cunt surrounding his cock clamped down. Grimmjow erratically rutted into you in short bursts, knot no longer allowing him to pull out from your sopping channel. The knot snapped in a painful burst, seed rushing from him in blinding pleasure. The Panthera released the hold his teeth had on your neck to yowl loudly into the room. Hips stilling as his seed erupted inside you, filling you with his hot cum.

The lustful instinct to mate melted away at his release. Control over his mind filtered back slowly, allowing him to see the state he had left you in. Angry teethmarks sat proudly at the back of your neck. Slumped forward in his hold, your sweat soaked body hung limply, raggedly sucking in desperate breaths.

Laying himself across your back, Grimmjow Manoeuvered you both to lay down on the small bed on your sides. Knotted cock still buried deep inside you, Grimmjow moulded himself to your back, wrapping his arm around you protectively. On the brink of sleep you squirm, wincing at the pinch in your abused pussy caused by the pull of the knot keeping him in.

"stay still" his gruff voice held a semblance care, large hand soothing over the bruises left by his fingers on your hips "y'gotta let it go down or it'll rip ya apart"

Your body pushed to the brink of what it could take started to shiver, muscles periodically twitching as they relaxed. Thinking you were cold, Grimmjow grabbed the sorry excuse for a blanket, draping it over you. Head buried in your neck, Grimmjow soothed the marks left there with his tongue, methodically licking over the wounds, soothing the dull throbbing.

Arm wrapped protectively around you, slowly deflating cock nestled deeply within you, you fell into unconsciousness with Grimmjows cool tongue lapping at your skin. Satisfied you were cleaned up enough, Grimmjow tightened the hold he had on you, savouring the feel of his cock being warmed by your hole, full to the brim with his seed. Burying his head in your hair, letting your smell fill his senses as he joined you in sleep he so desperately needed, whispering a single word as he succumbed to the pull

"mine"

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction #grimmjow x you #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow smut #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach smut #bleach x reader

[changbunnies]

One & Only, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pre-established relationship, some light plot to establish the setting, college au but it's a background detail

♡ Word Count: 4.6k

♡ Summary: Following a perfect Valentine's Day date, you decide you're ready for the next step in your relationship with Chan. You want him, and you know he wants you- and the only thing left to do is tell him exactly how you feel.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (pretty, baby) corruption kink, virgin + inexperienced reader, mutual masturbation, fingering (f rec), handjob

♡ Notes: i wanted to upload something short (compared to what i usually write anyways) for valentines day and i’ve been wanting to write corruption kink channie for a while now, so what better time to do it! i hope you enjoy <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You sighed as you flopped on the bed, freshly changed into your pajamas- next to you lies Chan, your best friend and roommate turned boyfriend, easily the love of your life, and you nervously chew your bottom lip, faced with the choice of what to do next now that your first Valentine's Day as a couple had come to an end. Returning to your shared apartment, nerves rattling away at you as you changed out of your prettiest, formal dress and now on the bed, trying your best not to overthink your situation. 

If you were being blunt and honest, you just really wanted to have sex with him- or at least take the next step in that direction. But the thought of it was utterly nerve wracking; every time he looked at you with his handsome, dimpled smile and pretty brown eyes, and you pictured seeing that same expression while he was hovering over you in your newly shared bed, it made your heart race out of control.

After an awkward, impromptu confession that led to you becoming a couple, the two of you slowly began sharing your space, until one day you stopped going back forth between bedrooms and decided to just share one. You chose your room to share in the end- Chan, the gentleman that he is, let you have the larger room when you moved into this apartment as roommates, and it was the natural choice when deciding which of you would be moving their belongings into the other room. And it was nice, exciting even, to help Chan move his belongings into your space until it became not justs yours but his too. 

But lately, sharing a bedroom served a problem- now that you slept in the same bed every night, you were becoming increasingly more aware of how badly you want him. And thanks to being friends and roommates before you were together, you knew had experience- experience that you felt you were sorely lacking. And it's not like you ever felt shame over the fact that you were still a virgin in college (as it's much more realistic than tv shows and movies would lead you to believe) but somewhere deep down you worried your lack of experience would make things awkward and unenjoyable.

That awareness of experience was equal, because in turn Chan was well aware of your sexual history (or lack thereof). You knew he wouldn't judge you, he would never be anything but kind and considerate, but it was hard to prevent self doubt from digging its claws into your embarrassingly fragile heart. You knew it was silly to feel this way knowing all that you do about Chan's character and his care for you that extends beyond titles of friend or girlfriend, but your nerves ate away at you regardless.

You kissed people before Chan, and that was unfortunately the extent of your prior experience. Your kisses were shared with fleeting crushes in high school, inside the confines of short lived relationships that never made it past first base. You didn't mind at the time- you weren't ready for more then, and you weren't going to compromise on sex just to keep a relationship going. But now here you were, an adult with little to no experience; and now that you were ready you were plagued by the idea that all of the awkwardness and exploration you could've gotten past in your adolescence will now be Chan's burden.

He wouldn't actually view it as such, you knew for a complete fact that he wouldn't- but the thing about self doubt is that logical thought does little to prevent it from taking root. And you felt terrible because Chan noticed you were feeling off since coming back to the apartment following your date; of course he did, he always noticed when you weren't acting like your usual self. You had such a perfect date together and now you were ruining it with your virginal rumination.

"What's on your mind, pretty?" Chan asks as he tucks the fallen hair behind your ears, the beautiful necklace he gifted you as your date came to a close perfectly adorning your neck. A silver locket in the shape of a heart, with dainty gems accented into the patterned engraving, which you opened to find a picture of the two of you after your first date. It was so perfect that you were speechless, and he admitted it took him months of saving to afford it (which was why your Christmas gift was something much less expensive in comparison and instead purely sentimental.)

"I-I'm sorry, I just.." you swallowed as you looked at him, your heart squeezing both from your nerves and from just how soft his expression is. "I was just thinking.. that I want to do more than just.. makeout, y'know..?"" You try your best not to blush from the admission, especially not when he starts smiling at you, but you can't stop your face from burning, and you turn your gaze away from his eyes, embarrassment taking its hold.

"Baby, look at me," he speaks softly but you can hear the smile in his voice before you even meet his gaze again to see it. It's a gentle smile that relays sweetness and care, but there's an underlying excitement beneath; because while he would never do anything to rush or pressure you along, he obviously wants more too. You're gorgeous, his best friend, his dream girl- of course he wants you. "You sure? I know it's a special day but we don't have to rush it or anything. I've already got the perfect gift."

You smile- timidly, but genuinely. He's so impossibly sweet, always; it's one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place. "Yeah, I'm sure- and I promise it's not just because it's Valentine's Day. I've been thinking about it, and I really want to, I'm just.. nervous is all. I've never.. you know.." You hesitantly meet his stare, your hand now nervously and unconsciously fiddling with the locket he gifted you that hangs from your neck.

It’s unceremonious the way his cock starts to throb from your timid words alone, almost shameful. He doesn't even know how much further than making out you're even going to go, but his body reacts regardless, independently from his brain that recognizes your need for slow, careful affection. There’s a million things he wants to say- “we’ll go slow” or “I’ll take care of you” or even “I love you” but his brain practically short circuits when you lift yourself from the pillows, locket dangling as you come closer to him, leaning down to press your lips to his. 

A moment of confidence? Or maybe you already knew all the things he’d say and didn’t need to hear them? You’re not entirely atop him- that’s still a step too far in uncharted territory, but this at least.. Kissing him is something you can do without getting in your own head about experience and desirability. His fingers rest behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you- softly and slowly at first, the way he always does. It’s always a build up, his lips taking their time, his every caress careful but deliberate. 

He always makes your heart race when he kisses you, makes your stomach do somersaults and blood run hot. Nerves aside, it’s undeniable how much you want him. One hand on his chest and the other in his hair, he’s careful when sits up from the bed to adjust your positions, conscious to not cause you to remove your hands from his body as you move in tandem with him. You let him lay you back down, catching just a glimpse of him hovering over you before your eyes are closing again as he kisses you. When his tongue licks your lips, you open your mouth to him without so much as a thought- it’s automatic, innate the way you welcome him into you. 

It always makes you dizzy, the way Chan’s tongue dances around yours, swirling and building the excitement from deep within your gut to new heights you didn’t know possible. This time however, there’s an added desire, his kisses and gentle touches more impassioned with the promise that you’ll be giving him more; more skin to kiss and touch, to feel under his calloused fingertips, to admire and love and venerate. You’re all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, really; and he wants you to know, desperately wants to show you how much he desires you. 

One arm holds his weight up while the hand on your face starts to trail away, fingers tracing the skin it travels over. Careful, slow, deliberate- it’s foreign but comfortable, somehow. When he hesitates, you affirm, you chase his touch, you pull him back, you silently plead with desperate eyes and eager breaths. Your face grows hot when your shirt comes off, his gaze hungrier when met with the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened more so from the building anticipation than from the cool air. 

He wants to dote on you- call you cute, caress your burning cheeks, kiss the blush on your face and feel the heat of it on his lips. So he does, slowly so as to not overwhelm you, word choice careful as to not embarrass you. Your cheeks burn brighter, but you smile; a cute, shy one that his cock reacts to in equal measure to his heart. Pretty, beautiful, cute, he says it all as he starts to trail his kisses around the shell of your ear and to your neck. 

And you’re shy, impossibly so, but you indulge in the affection, as happy as you are timid and out of your depth. You can count on a single hand the amount of times he started kissing your neck during a makeout session, and you were always left wanting more but were much too sheepish to admit your building desire. But after that first time, when you were in the bathroom that night and saw the trail of small, just barely visible bruises left behind on your neck, you knew- you wanted more, and he was being considerate, holding back for your sake. 

You didn’t need that anymore, nor did you want him to- don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, leave your mark for all to see, touch and kiss and suck wherever you want. That’s what you want to tell him, but it’s hard to formulate that thought into words when the feeling of his lips on your neck and fingers ghosting over your nipples makes your brain grow fuzzy. He’ll get the hint though, you think, when you tilt your head to the side to allow him easier access to your skin and a whine leaves your lips. 

He can feel your body tremble, can hear and feel your breath hitch when his attention to your skin grows in intensity. Harsher sucks to your pulse point, more deliberate rubs of your nipples between his fingers- still careful, but no longer entirely delicate, as if you’re made of porcelain. No, his touches are now firmer, with more purpose and intention, more confidence now that it’s clear your admission of wanting more was not something said just to appease his growing desire to have you. 

He throbs when he pulls back to look at you; face flushed, skin varying in shades of pink and red, breath a near pant, hair fanned out and growing messy, the locket he gave you still staring back at him in the middle of it all. His fingers trail over it and you watch him carefully, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. “Should I take it off..?” you ask, wondering if it’ll get in the way somehow and he quickly shakes his head, leaning back down to you, his lips just barely touching yours. 

“Fuck no, leave it on. I love seeing it on you like this. Like-” he stops a moment, carefully considering if what he’s going to say will scare you off. But fuck it, you’re all being honest tonight, right? So why shouldn’t he say what he’s really thinking? “Like you’re mine. All mine,” he finally says, and though shy, you smile as you expertly play into it, feeding his fantasies. “I am yours Channie, I’m always yours.” Oh, you really have him now (as if he wasn’t already impossibly yours to begin with- you don’t even know the depth of his belonging to you.) 

Chan thought about you like this so many times- for years if he's being honest. He always felt guilty; the way he fantasized about you, his best friend for all his formative years and then his roommate, spread out for him and crying his name, clutching him so tightly that your nails dig into his skin. He just couldn't control it, and even his dreams, which were once innocent in nature (if you could believe it), you were there, whimpering on his cock, back arching as hushed whispers of praise were spoken into your ears, your eyes rolling back and drool escaping the corner of your parted lips. 

He wanted you, fuck, he wanted you, always have and he’s sure he always will. A single kiss and then he’s pulling back again, his hands trailing just over the hem of your pajama shorts. You unconsciously hold your breath, and maybe it’s his ability to read the nerves all over your expression that lead him to hesitate, capturing your gaze with sweet consideration despite how much he yearns to see all of you. “Nervous?” he asks and you nod, thankful when he kisses away the tension building in your body. 

“It’s okay if you’re not ready for that yet,” he reassures you, taking his hands away from your hips and instead moving them up to your waist, where he knows you’re comfortable with his touch. “I-I am, I want to, I promise! It’s just..” you trail off, and Chan offers you a sweet smile, stroking your cheek as you once again fumble nervously with the locket on your neck. “It’s a lot, I know,” he finishes for you, and you’re relieved he understands (not that you even suspected otherwise- he’s always been the sweetest guy you know.) 

He returns to kissing you softly and sweetly, his hands exploring the regions he knows you to be ready for, never wandering too far below your stomach. When he pulls away, your curiosity gets the better of you- you look where he rests between your legs, his erection noticeably straining in his sweatpants, a wet patch of what can only be pre-cum darkening the gray fabric. While you feel shy looking at it, Chan seems to welcome the curiosity, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Want to see it?” he asks and you gulp, tearing your eyes away to look back at his face. “Y-Yeah, can I..?” 

“Course, baby,” he replies easily, his smile growing ever so slightly as he straightens up to remove his pants. You swallow, blush flaring as you watch him slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Rather than returning to his spot between your legs, he settles next to you, sitting up against the headboard and making himself comfortable. Chan looks at you, watching as your eyes travel and drink him in; you take notice of how his cock twitches as you stare, how pre-cum steadily drips from the tip, how prominently his vein runs down the length of it.

You're not sure what words are appropriate when it comes to describing your feelings towards seeing him bare, but you know you like it- you really like it. Your gaze makes him throb- desire, need, love, all wrapped together with a pretty ribbon of innocence and purity. He's being patient, but fuck, he wants to ruin you, wants to see your eyes well with pretty tears and body painted with ropes of his cum. "Do you want to touch it?" he asks, hopeful and raging with want- for you, your touch, your kiss, your pleasured voice, everything.

"Y-Yes, but.. I don't know how to.. how do I make you feel good..?" you ask with the cutest pout he's ever seen, and he truly feels like his heart is getting struck by lightning; you're going to drive him insane with need before the night is over. "I can show you," he offers, smiling when you quickly nod. You're amazed by how confidently he takes it in his hand, not a single ounce of shyness to be found in his actions, unlike you; you wonder if you'll ever be the same- able to act without timid embarrassment eating away at you.

Even compared to his large hands, Chan's cock appears impossibly thick, and you swallow as you watch him collect pre-cum from the head before he spreads it down the entirety of his length. His fingers trace the vein before he takes it fully in his hand, his gaze entirely fixed on your face as he starts to slowly pump himself. You swallow, completely mesmerized, the butterflies in your stomach thrashing violently. You look back up to his face when you hear his breath shudder, blush growing with the realization that your stare had an effect on him.

When Chan lets himself look away from your face, he notices the way your thighs press together, how you squirm in place as you watch him, yearning for touch- and it gives him an idea. "Can I-" he exhales a shaky breath, fisting his cock just the slightest bit faster when you meet his gaze again, "Can I see how you make yourself feel good too? Can you show me?" Your face burns hotter, your legs pressing harder together as his question rings in your ears. You swallow, impossibly nervous but equally as excited, and you nod timidly after a few moments of careful consideration.

"Y-Yeah, okay," you mumble as you shift your position to get your pajamas and panties down your legs. You timidly watch his expression as you settle yourself across from him, aware enough that he should have a good view of everything (even if the action of spreading your legs for him makes you want to cover your face in embarrassment.) Chan exhales another breath as he tightens his grip on his cock, licking his lips when he sees just how wet you are. You're dripping and it's all for him, because of him- finally, his dreams become realized.

Similarly to what he did to himself, you rub your fingers up and down between your folds, gathering the arousal on your fingers before you bring them to your aching clit. You bite your lip, shy as ever and embarrassed by the noises that leave you. You close your eyes in an effort to ebb away the shyness and focus on the pleasure, but you're still starkly aware of his presence, of his eyes watching your every move. You can hear his low groans and harsh breaths, can hear the sound of his fist pumping faster when you let out another whimper between your bitten lip.

It astounds you how something this embarrassing can also be so arousing- you don't think you've ever been more excited than you are now, and the mess between your thighs and under your ass is definitely a testament to that. As the moment continues, with you timidly opening your eyes to watch him again, he doesn't fail to notice that you focus entirely on your clit, so he has to ask- "Do you ever- fuck- put your fingers inside?"

God, as if your face isn't already hot enough- but it's a fair question, and you answer as best you can between the noises you fail to keep internal. "S-Sometimes, but- it's- I don't-" you try, though you fail to formulate the words you wish to say; partly due to pleasure fogging your brain, and partly due to not even knowing how to phrase your thoughts the best in the first place. "It's hard? Doesn't feel as good?" Chan takes an educated guess, and you nod, relieved he found the words for you.

He understands- your fingers are dainty, and it must be hard trying to get them angled deep, hard to find the spot that makes you see stars when you have to contort your body to barely comfortable positions. "If you want- if you're comfortable, I can.. do it for you..? Help you?" Oh. If you're being honest, you've thought about how good his fingers must feel so many nights while touching yourself, wondering about how good they'd make you feel, how expertly they'd make you cum. "R-Really? You want to?" you ask- perhaps a stupid question, but there's still a part of you that can't even believe he's attracted to you, even this far into your relationship.

"God, yes, isn't it obvious? C'mere, baby," Chan beckons you back to him, and you oblige. You crawl your way back to your spot next to him, sitting on your knees but with your legs still spread apart. He takes his dominant hand off his cock, bringing it instead between your legs, slowly rubbing and getting his fingers wet enough to slide easily inside. His opposite hand resumes the motion on his cock, and you unconsciously tremble- both because of the hand between your legs, and because the sight before you is so fucking hot (to put it bluntly.)

"You're so fucking sexy," Chan utters, starting with just one finger, pressing it inside slowly, and your reaction is immediate- body shuddering as a gasp escapes you, biting your lip as he pumps his finger slowly, ensuring you're comfortable and adjusted before he adds another. "Pretty, so pretty," he continues, the tips of fingers rub your deepest parts with hardly any effort on his part, and when he finds your sensitive spot you positively jolt, every nerve constricting as if thrown in an ice bath, body tense, stomach clenching as the pleasure builds.

"My gorgeous fucking baby- feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, a theoretical question with no expected answer, but you're whining and nodding your head, your hips acting independently of the rest of you, rolling and bouncing and chasing every ounce of pleasure that can be derived from Chan's fingers. He presses his thumb to your clit, simply keeping pressure there as the motion of riding his fingers provides all the friction you need.

"C-Channie, feels so good, think I'm gonna-" before you can finish voicing the words, you're gasping and crying out. You're hot, your dripping with sweat, you're utterly floating as you're hit with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. He doesn't dare remove his fingers until you've finished riding it out, but to his surprise, you grab his wrist when he starts to pull his hand away, your eyes glassy and pleading.

"More? Please, more?" you ask so sweetly, and again he throbs, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you- debauched, dewy, and flushed, world shattered in the best way possible. "Yeah baby, I can give you more. Course I can," Chan says before he's thrusting his fingers inside as if there was never a pause. Your eyes roll back as you bite your lip, your grip on his wrist tightening as you grind down against his fingers, always meeting them halfway.

When you open your eyes to look at him again, you can't help but notice that the pace of the hand on his cock is sloppy and uneven, and while you doubt you'll fare much better, you decide to take over for him, to try to please him just as much as he has you. You hear him utter a quiet curse as he takes his hand away, letting you replace it with your own. It's a sight, a feeling, that he wants engraved in his memory- you, riding his fingers while your hand desperately pumps his cock, giving him your best effort and trying your hardest to make him cum despite how much your arousal fills your brain with fluff.

"Fuck, baby-" he groans, reaching his hand out to the nape of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue shoving it's way in your mouth before you can even process that your lips are touching. His hips buck when your thumb glides over the tip, sensitive and leaking, your soft hands sticky and wet and perfect. You hold his gaze when the kiss breaks, all your shy tendencies and thoughts of embarrassment seeming to fade to the very back of your mind, replaced entirely by desire and need- not just to cum again, which you unmistakably want, but to watch Chan cum too, to watch him fall apart and know that it was all thanks to you.

The room is filled with the slick sounds of your hands working each other, of heavy, panting breaths, of low groans from Chan and barely restrained, quiet whimpers from you, a sinful symphony played exclusively for your own ears. "Oh fuck, fuck-" he grits out, clenching his jaw and brows knitting together as he tries to stave his orgasm off long enough to watch you fall apart again first.

You can feel his vein pulsing beneath your fingers, can feel him twitch and throb, and there's a sense of pride you've never felt before that comes with it- it doesn't just feel good to cum, you realize, it feels good to watch your lover cum too, to be the reason they're losing composure and falling apart. "Y-You're close, Channie? Gonna cum?" He groans as he nods, licking his drying lips as his head falls back, unsure if he can hold it back much longer than he already has.

"Yeah baby, gonna- gonna cum for you, fuck-," Chan, who knows it's only a matter of seconds before he has no choice but to let go, mercilessly targets your sweet spot, his fingers all but drilling into it as his thumb rubs messy circles on your clit. Your hips stutter before your body seizes with overwhelming pleasure, the pace of your hand on Chan's cock faltering as your eyes roll back and you surrender yourself to the blissful sensation washing over you.

Chan follows quickly, the sight of you cumming again on his fingers breaking the already impossibly thin line holding him together, hot cum shooting out and spilling on his chest and stomach. You collapse next to him, legs aching (your knees especially) and body utterly exhausted. Your shyness returns when he turns his head to look at you with a sweet smile on his lips, and you blush as you return the smile.

You're both messy, in desperate need of a shower and a change of bedsheets before you actually sleep, but you bask in the moment regardless. He reaches for a tissue on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach before it dries and becomes a pain to wash off, and the moment it's done you're back in his arms, being hugged tight with kisses pressed to your forehead, your warm cheeks, and then your lips.

You curl into him, one of your hands holding the locket as you return his affection, pouring all your unspoken love and affection into the kiss you share. Your first Valentine's Day of hopefully a lifetime more, your joy immeasurable, your love boundless; a perfect day with an equally perfect end. You tell him you love him as he helps you clean up in the shower, he tells you he loves you as he helps you get dressed before he dresses himself, you share “i love you”s as you relax into each other in bed. You sleep, happy and warm and loved, secure in the knowledge that truly, this is only the beginning, and there’s still years worth of experiences left to share.

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

[flowercitti]

Hi, I read your one Astarion story "wanted to kiss your skin and your everything." First I would like to say it was so good it kinda made me wanna cry it was so sweet it's definitely one of my favorites I've read. :) But I saw at the bottom you said about a request so I was wondering if you would be willing to write a fic about Astarion and Asexual Tav/Reader. I honestly don't have any other specifics, but I haven't seen a lot of Ace content with BG3 which I understand but I would really love to see more. Please don't feel pressured or anything, thank you in the least. Have a great day or night :)

Wahh thank u sm I’m so glad you enjoyed that fic! 🤍☺️ and thank you sm for sending a request, I really love this idea! 🫶 here’s a little Drabble 🫶.

Fluff/Gender Neutral Reader/Ace Reader

🌸

You can’t say you’re surprised when Astarion propositions you. He’s open and flirtatious and he seems to now exactly what he’s doing, as well as being so wholly aware of the affect he has on people. He may not be able to see himself, but he’s learned well enough from the reactions his pretty face garners.

You agree with that assessment, he is rather beautiful, but when it comes to sex—

“What?” Astarion seems nearly speechless, his silver tongue gone heavy in his mouth as he blinks, coming damn close to outright stuttering, “I—I mean, surely you—I’ve seen how you look at me!” He huffs, looking frustrated and confused and completely thrown off.

It’s almost endearing, to see him grow so flustered, his suave persona melting through his shock. You can’t help but smile, “I’m just not really interested in sex. That’s all.” You shrug, and Astarion looks at you as if that tadpole in your head has finally started to transform you.

“You’re still very pretty and utterly charming, don’t worry.” You inform him, and Astarion chuckles, if only out of disbelief.

“Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.” He sniffs delicately, looking away from you, his full lips pursed in a slight pout.

You watch him shift from foot to foot nervously, ruby eyes regarding you warily, brows pinched as he seems to wager whether you’re lying to him or not.

“You don’t want me, then?” He says carefully, a faux sort of lightness infused in his tone. You see through it immediately. His eyes always give him away, glittering in the moonlight and fanned by dark lashes.

“I didn’t say that.” You manage a step closer, chewing on the inside of your lip, “It’s just the sex I don’t want. Everything else—I’m interested.”

“What else could you possibly want from me, then?” He seems to blurt, his mouth twisting out of confusion rather than anger, his gaze flickering away anxiously.

Something in your chest pangs, a painful churn behind your ribs. He looks like he believes it, like he thinks you’re teasing him or leading him on. You frown softly, holding your hand out between the two of you, leaving it open for him to take should he choose.

“I could show you, if you’d like.”

He stares at your hand like it’s a live trap, like it’s fit to spring its spikes into him the moment he reaches out. There’s a strange flicker of emotion that shifts across his face—relief, consideration, fear. His mouth parts, a quiet breath pressing past his lips as he considers you, seeming not to notice the long seconds that pass by. But he keeps his eyes steadily on you as he slowly slips his fingers over yours. His skin is unnaturally cool, perfectly smooth and untouched by calluses. You can nearly see him shudder from the simple contact, his face twitching in surprise, crimson eyes like pools of shining blood.

“I don’t see the point of this, surely there’s more I could do for you—”

You shush him, delighting in the scandalized look he rewards you with, “No. I like this more.” And you think he does to, more than he lets on, more than the sex he had been tempting you with.

His eyes are strangely glassy even as he huffs, looking down at your joined hands.

“You have better not be playing me.” He mutters, but he sounds nearly breathless as you thumb gently over his wrist. Your other hand comes up to hold his between both of yours, as if you could press heat into his lifeless flesh.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, then.” You say playfully, but your fingers are delicate as they trace the bones of his knuckles, finding the lines of his veins. You’re closer now than you were before, Astarion’s eyes just slightly widened as they regard you. His fingers shift in your hold, his thumb pressing experimentally into your palm.

He looks as if he’s never done this before, surprise and awe dancing over his face despite how hard he attempts to hide it.

“I suppose that I will.” He rasps, his head tilting to the side in wonder, and you meet him with small smile.

🌸

Astarion-flavored Requests are still open 🫶🤍 thank u sm for reading.

#astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #unsure where exactly this fits in his romance line but. use ur imagination. #x reader #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 astarion #gender neutral reader #ask me #my fanfiction

[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one • part two (you are here) •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people

"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"

I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.

"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.

"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.

I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.

"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.

The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.

I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."

Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.

I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.

"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.

"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.

"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.

This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.

I snicker.

Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.

"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.

He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.

"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.

"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.

"I have no idea."

I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.

"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.

Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.

"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.

"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.

"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."

I shrug.

"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.

✮•

"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.

"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.

"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."

I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

I groan inwardly.

This thing again.

I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.

He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.

Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.

"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.

"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.

I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.

"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"

He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.

"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"

"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.

"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.

Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.

"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"

"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.

I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.

"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.

"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"

"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.

"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.

"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.

Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.

"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"

We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.

Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.

"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.

"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"

"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.

Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"

Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.

He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"

"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"

Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.

He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."

Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.

"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.

"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.

"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.

"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."

"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.

Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"

He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.

Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.

"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"

"The fate of the multi-verse-"

"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."

Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.

Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.

"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.

"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.

"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"

"That's insulting."

Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"

Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.

I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.

"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."

"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.

"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"

I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.

"Woah."

Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.

"What's this?" He breathes out.

"This, is everything."

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

[collectivecloseness]

(Nsfw) ok but do u have a hc at all on who’s better at going down on a lady, Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson?

Okay but I absolutely do for sure and I have thought this for the longest time.

(Cw: 18+)

Steve I think didn’t even know that was a thing at first, back in his king Steve days. He was all about missionary, or blowjobs, or other more common stuff he’d hear about, not that he was a selfish lover or anything. Sure he’d touch girls down there, of course he would, but the clit? Who knows where that is, he’d trust they’ll say/moan something if he finds it. Not to say he doesn’t learn though.

Absolutely not. As Steve becomes a better person, but also gains more experience, he hears about this for the first time and he wants the girls he’s with to feel happy and enjoy it and make sure they cum as well (not faking it which he’s trying to distinguish for sure now) but at least feeling safe and enjoying it. It is important to him that his partners are enjoying everything just as much as he is, even very early on before he’d learned more. As long as they’re happy, satisfied, and safe, Steve can end it happy as well.

But Steve’s knowledge comes in at a pretty normal time for a guy in Hawkins in the 80’s, and he’s definitely a lot a lot more willing to try it. Firstly asking a girl he trusts how to do it, then he found a book he could get without anyone recognising him, to read and keep hidden deep under his bed. As well as as time goes on, checking out some more tapes from the back adults only section of Family Video, so he can check what it’s ‘supposed’ to be like from other angles, not just when he’s looking up buried between thighs.

So at first, probably until he gets a long term partner who will work him though it, rather than a quick hookup, which they at least leave highly satisfied from and will tell other girls considering a date with the previous king of Hawkins High that it’s definitely worth a shot, at first Steve’s techniques are more just that; techniques. Things he’s read about and heard, like tongue here there diagonal short then fast, or the alphabet method, or following step by step something from his book that could be misconstrued as a ddr pattern or something.

Mostly Steve’s very focused on doing it right, and that is for the pleasure of his partners. But he does have to be taught by a girl he trusts where the clit exactly is at first, or more so, how to know if he’s touching it correctly. Shocked that it ranges from about 60-80% of sex without using the clitoris doesn’t end in orgasm for girls (although in Steve’s defence, that stat is much much lower with him, again, an unselfish lover even in the beginning, and also, he’s still Steve Harrington). He’s still a bit flustered trying to figure things out without being gentlemanly vague, but Steve really does care about your experience a lot.

And if you’re his partner, damn. Steve becomes such a good boy trying to ask you every single time he’s down there if what he’s doing is right, if you’re still okay, if he should change up, if he’s hurting you, if you finished, if you can handle round four - because holy shit girls can handle a lot more than even big boy Steve Harrington thought. He’s genuinely very considerate and sweet, caring a lot about your experience, and he will shut up and just get on with it and try and listen to your body, because he doesn’t want to stop if you’re feeling good; you go through some ideas with him, like thigh tapping signals.

But Steve will totter to you and ask you with his hand out if you two can go practice again, pretty please?

Steve may not have been the best student in high school, but he definitely wants to do some research in this field, and he is more than happy to perform some experiments. It’s called growing <3. He won’t ask you too much, and he won’t bother you with it, but he will come ask you in very sweet ways, like laying his head on your lap, or getting on his knees, or sucking into your neck just the same way he does your cunt. Or if you two are beginning to have sex, he’ll ask if you’d like him to do that first. And then he might want to do it afterwards as well. Especially if you would like to go for another round (Steve is not a one and done guy). Again, he’s learning all about the female body and experience so much :)

Steve is also... big. So it definitely does help, if he’s getting on his knees or tummy before you two make love <3. Although to be honest, not that you need it much anyway considering Steve gets you wet so easily. You remember Steve playing with your hair and whispering sweet nothings to you, before making out for a while, when you two decided to go to the bedroom. And when Steve undressed you, like a gentleman, and went to add more foreplay, and saw how soaked you were, he actually fucking laughed, like an adorable loving dork, and said out loud “Wow.” To be honest, it only helped you want him more.

Then again Steve eating you out after he’s cum in you slightly works against his breeding kink, although it’s not too much of an issue because Steve still throughly enjoys it. He also likes being able to be a little messy and dirty and free with you, and he also likes cleaning you up and helping you out once again, it works in so many ways to be honest. Not to mention the obvious, Steve likes going down on you, he wants to do it again, and also doing so after you two had made love was kinda hot. One time he had tears in his sweet brown eyes while licking out his cum, which took a minute to get to because Steve had fucked it deep in you, but when you promised he could fill you up again after he finished cleaning you up here, because he’d been so lovely today, you swear you saw his heart burst, just from the sparkles in his caramel eyes.

You’re definitely expanding Steve to lots of new intimate and interesting things to do with sex. Not that he was boring beforehand, but he didn’t want to risk going with something he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t good at, and he didn’t really get into another relationship until you, or really trust the other enough to be vulnerable and think within himself about his own explorations. He didn’t really think or get to physically explore about himself too much until you really. And you definitely helped him feel more open to do some introspection on himself, even at some surface level stuff to do with vulnerabilities and sex/love making things.

Steve does however figure this out very early days, probably with Nancy because he did love her, but it’s not something he really let himself indulge in or mind wonder about, until you. And that’s the fact he loves sucking on some boobies <3. Actually makes him feel incredibly calm and happy and like he can just shut down from being big protector Harrington, and just be Stevie in love and being taken care of, by taking care of.

Absolutely loves just settling his head down and softly holding you and mouthing around your boobs with the comfort of knowing that’s all he’s got to do right now, and it’s making you happy too. So to realise he can suck on something else of yours? That tastes of you even more, and makes you extremely happy too? Steve can bob those lovely cheeks around three different things and not accidentally overstimulate you, and really let his mind soften into loving and affectionate time with you, his love <333

Steve is a good guy and he is learning a lot. Happily doing so, he wants to be a good enough person for you, but also, hell yeah Steve Harrington is loving this too! Why don’t all guys like eating out their girlfriends?

Eddie is bouncing off all four walls if he doesn’t eat pussy soon.

Actually one of the first things he wants to do sexually. Yeah the first time he has sex he’s trying not to cream his pants but he’s also so desperate to please. But also to taste... to experience all that loveliness. The first time he does it it’s not only to please, but to try and prove he’s good, he likes them, to try and make himself good enough so they don’t leave, but he very quickly realises they all will. Well until you that is. Although Eddie Munson does go through a little bit of a slutty era before that - I mean, he was doomed by having that slutty, slutty waist.

After the first girl or two it’s mostly about pleasing his lovely lady acquaintances. But also a little bit of pride knowing their jock boy toys will never be as good as him, and those girls will know it, and never be able to feel the same with them after. He hopes it frees his good old friends, get them some real partners. And yeah, to give them one hell of a lifetime ride.

The all encompassing warmth and smell and taste and sounds and feel of you is something Eddie craves constantly. It’s like his safe place. That and it really helps with his oral fixation. And the man is obsessed. He will not be leaving you for hours. He’s biting all up your arm, big chomps over and over, beforehand, licking at you randomly, pretending he’s so sweet to kiss your cheek but actually poking it with the tip of his tongue. These aren’t even always precursors to Eddie’s meal of the day, he is just like that.

He wants to bury himself there and breathe you only. Why should Eddie care about o2 or whatever that bitches name is, they didn’t help him pass chemistry. The only chemistry Eddie cares about is between you and him... You push his face away in retaliation at that awful flirting. But Eddie is pouncing right back, laugh roaring, and biting down over your pelvis, which gets you to push him away again, this time with a laughing shriek. He’s just eager, he won’t bite where it hurts, but like, if you’re gonna be running your hands through his hair as you’re calling his name, he’s going to surprise lick your fingers occasionally. Or bite. Maybe suck on something a little. Your thighs and boobs are constantly getting apology smooches for Eddie being very bad and biting down on them.

He wants to live smothered in your love for him, the physical show all around him that you love him right now and are not leaving and he’s making you feel good in this moment, but also it’s you, encompassing him. Everything about you is safety and security and love for him. It’s another reason Eddie will absolutely bury his face in your boobies too </3

And when you finally let him indulge his oral fixation down there, three hours later - with breaks and water and checking in on you in between - his arms are wrapped around your thighs and he’s scooching forwards as you pull your legs, and therefore him, up the bed, with the biggest and ‘wettest’ pout on his face, begging you he just needs to be in there for a little more time. Please say you can go another round? He’s desperate. He’ll do anything baby, he just wants to worship you some more.

Eddie sometimes headbutts face first into your boobs and swears he will starve without tasting your pretty pussy. You’re more worried he’s going to fucking drown.

Eddie will happily get smothered to death though if it means drinking everything up. One of the only times you saw Eddie frown in bed (or anywhere you two were fucking) was when you were sitting on his face, and kept pulling back because you were worried you would hurt him. Eddie was stubbornly telling you that he could take it, you were fine, and you were wrong; and you swear he was going to use your body as an unwilling weapon to kill himself, because he was pulling you back down on his face so determinedly, you weren’t sure you could move from his grip pulling you down if you even wanted - you definitely did not want. Not when it was Eddie fucking Munson whose face you were riding.

Another excellent point in his favour, Eddie is wild. Very passionate. Extremely intuitive and very well versed/knowledgable. So he’s a god at eating out.

Changes up nearly every single time because he knows how to go with the flow and read you so well. It’s not just experience or anything Eddie is very well tuned to what you like and don’t, and he can pick up on you easily. Eating out just comes so so naturally to him it’s insane. And the fact he just goes ballistic down on you, absolutely feral for you, makes things even more sensational. He’ll eat you out in every which way possible. Staring up at you with those big fucking dark brown eyes. Those pretty thick lips glistening and swollen.

And when looking into his deep doe eyes is what makes you finally cum over his tongue, Eddie is chuckling breathily in that sweet voice into your cunt, and you’re cumming harder. The noises he makes too, little hums he doesn’t even know he’s sounding, he’s just enjoying himself that much, the sloppy eager sounds as he laps and sucks and kisses and eats at you, and then the fucking moans and swears and whines and groans and whimpers, and all the sweet suave words he tells you each time. When they’re sounded while his mouth is around you, the vibrations make you go crazy, something Eddie absolutely knows.

One time he winked to you after his laugh into your crotch made your eyes roll into your skull, and when he sweetly batted his eyelashes into your sensitive nipped thighs, just to make you feel even more, he really got his hair knotted into, and tugged further into your ‘embrace’.

Eddie will use any part of his face, ride his nose, or he’ll nuzzle it, tickling your thighs or belly with his eyelashes, scraping his teeth down them, using his lips to kiss and suck and mouth and vibrate on you, not to mention whatever ungodly power was given to Eddie’s tongue. Holy fuck Eddie’s tongue must have been blessed or something. His whole face is rubbing against you, he’s utilising it all, and Eddie wants his face covered in your cum, to the point it’s streaming down his neck and dripping onto his chest tattoo <3

And he’ll leave sessions having not had you take care of him once, all he wanted to do was go down on you. Get that taste, and make you feel so good. It makes him feel good too, even if not in that way, it just really does. Sometimes eating you out for a while is really all Eddie wants. Either for as long as he can get, or even a quick session before one of you has to go. He once joked that even with his life, it was the only addiction he has. Although you swear you watch him go through withdrawal. You’d say kinda regularly actually, but you two are going at it enough it doesn’t get to be too much of a problem <3.

It surprised you a little when you first dated him, that sometimes Eddie would ask you if you two could do that, and then that’s all that’d happen, unless you initiated further. When Eddie said that that shouldn’t be surprising, goddamn he did make you fall for him even more. You tell him he has a blessed tongue in many ways, although Eddie is very aware of that.

Sometimes sure he’ll rub one or multiple out under you, or buck against his mattress as he does so. One time even using your leg, because you were stood at the bathroom sink and he just had to have a taste of you before he could sleep. Trust me, eating you out is well more than enough to get Eddie Munson off. Sometimes all Eddie is focused on is pussy and he’s absolutely enjoying himself extremely, being touched himself or not. After all, he is getting to do one of his favourite all time things with you.

#Steve Harrington/reader #Eddie Munson/reader #citrussy #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington hears about the Konami code and goes is the cllit the b button or a? #so in conclusion eddie is not only a natural but a god of this but Steve is trying his best and genuinely learning each and each time which #just means you’ve gotta practice even more :)) and he is very on target abt making sure you’re well looked after <33 #but I could actually go on forever with thoughts abt these two and this I will never stop having thoughts on this #Steve Harrington thoughts #Steve Harrington drabble #Eddie Munson drabble #Eddie Munson thoughts #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson hcs #Steve Harrington hcs #stranger things #anon #ask

[acethegaycard]

Unfair Tears

In which self aware genshin characters hear their beloved creator... crying???? This simply won't do!

TW: A mention of stabbing himself in Xiao's part but nothing graphic, just exaggeration.

you can clearly tell which characters personality i know more lol

It was long past the time you usually played any games, but you had forgotten once again to do your commissions in Genshin. The characters themselves weren't that surprised of your late log in, you usually managed to complete your commissions, so they expected you to come and do them at some point.

And here your team was, running around place to place to finish the commissions you were given. But you were unusually silent. The characters were used to hearing at least a note or two from you every few minutes, whether it be about something in your day, their damage, or just a small detail you noticed about the game. But they were hearing nothing of the sort this night. They found it odd, but it wasn't too alarming. It was just a bit of silence, after all. But when the silence was broken? Not something they were expecting.

Sobs. Broken breathing, gasps, and the sound of muffled cries.

Your team malfunctioned. What? Are those.. sobs?? From you??? They weren't aware why you were crying, or how long you felt like this. They were in a mixture of concern and fear. What if you were crying out of pain? Were you hurt?! Why are you crying...?

Kazuha

For somebody known as calm and collected, that demeanor and mindset flew out of the window. What was going on? Tears were never good, at least in the way you were crying. You deserve nothing less of perfection! So why should you have to waste tears on anything?

He's turning all of his attention towards you, if it already wasn't. Listening to any muffled sentences, clues to what's happening. He feels terrible that he can't simply be there to assist you. That he's stuck in Teyvat, not your world. If you happen to be crying over somebody, then he's got his answer.

He hopes to himself that nobody had done anything to you. Maybe it was a good friend of your getting hurt? Why would you be sobbing over that..? Overthinks a little bit, but being him, manages to control the wild ideas he's getting. What if somebody did something to you? Broke your heart? The more he thinks of the possibility of someone hurting you, the less composed he gets. Snaps out of it not long after, but tries to do what he can. Saying a few lines that you swore weren't in the game. Maybe an odd story from his travels as an attempt to make you laugh? The only thing he doesn't want is to hear your cries.

Xiao

You were in the middle of a commission that included clearing a hilichurl camp when the concerning sound of you crying came to his ear. He faltered for a moment. Instead of slipping up during the commission, his damage was getting... higher?

With every overthinking idea of what was happening to you, he was only getting more pent up. Angry that something had hurt you. I anybody on this earth deserved to feel pain, it certainly wasn't you. Taking his anger out on what was left of the hilichurls you were supposed to be fighting. If you were clear headed, you would've noticed that Genshin was seemingly on autopilot. Fighting with unusually higher numbers. Somewhat blaming himself. If he wasn't stuck in the game, he could've protected you from whatever what making you cry! He'd rather stab himself with the very spear you oh-so graciously gifted him then hear you cry once more.

Not one that's very sure how to cheer you up. But if you make it clear that you enjoy his company throughout the game, he might just appear in one or two Liyue commissions. If you listen closely, his voicelines sound much more aggressive during combat for a bit, but whenever talking to you he sounds more.. soft. Considerate even.

aaakoskwojojcowjdoj take this non proof read piece of crap :)

i got scara btw woop woop :DDD

#genshin x reader #genshin #sagau #sagau xiao #sagau kazuha #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #Genshin impact #xiao #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #self aware genshin #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #im so tired #scaracamehomemwaahahahaha

[aziraphales-library]

hello! i read a work from your recommendation list, the "Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it." and i really enjoyed it. it has me wanting for more of scenarios where they like have to flirt for whatever reason or crowley attempting to (preferably shamelessly and obnoxiously) seduce aziraphale. thanks in advance!

Here are some fics in which Crowley seduces Aziraphale...

To Woo an Angel by AgentStannerShipper (G)

5 times Crowley tried to "seduce" Aziraphale, and 1 time he realized there was no need.

nothing else matters like us by Melacka (T)

The order came through on an otherwise dull Sunday afternoon in 2004. Crowley had just returned from a spot of low-level tempting in the south of London and was just contemplating an appropriate excuse to stop by at Aziraphale’s bookshop when the message arrived. It was pushed under the door by a courier so steeped in terror that Crowley could sense it from the other side of the flat. With some considerable annoyance, Crowley fetched the envelope and eased the note out, reading it quickly with a frown deepening on his face. Seduce the Angel Aziraphale. Failure will not be tolerated.

How I'm Imagining You by orphan_account (M)

Crowley gets up, walking slowly over to the bar. An onlooker might be struck by the stalking and languid ease with which he walks, like a lioness to her prey. His hips, so smooth and slow. And he tilts his head back, lips parted. Surveys the room and the man with covered eyes. But there is no one looking at him. Every other patron doesn’t need to look at the bar at this moment, look at the man and the prey. So, they don’t. - (Crowley has fun with a little temptation of his own)

shades of grey by IneffableStar (E)

After Aziraphale's West End debut was nearly ruined by Furfur's espionage attempt, Aziraphale gets to thinking about if Heaven may also be watching them, and decides it best that he go search for any evidence against them. Crowley will only allow Aziraphale to go on one condition: Crowley comes along. or Crowley accompanies Aziraphale on a trip upstairs, but he has entirely ulterior motives.

It's your job by falsepremise (E)

After a night sucking oysters with Aziraphale, Crowley just can’t sleep. Perhaps he should hang around in Rome a little longer... After all, tempting a certain angel is his job, isn’t it?

Gormless Seduction by munchmulch (T)

Crowley grimaces. "Nhnnnnggg, ok, alright. But, hear me out." They flick a hand dramatically. "An angel! A being who can make Holy water! Even if I can keep the whole human disguise thing up, what if they, I don't know . . . want me baptised?" Dagon stares at Crowley blankly for a second before handing them the assignment kit. "You’ll start tomorrow. The address is highlighted, if you get lost and have to call me for directions I will direct you through at least three traffic jams."

And the one you mentioned that everyone knows and loves...

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan (E)

"All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?" Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.  "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."  AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #seduction #mod d

[jackandspaghetti]

under the table. (jack hughes x female reader, smut)

summary: THIS IS COMPLETELY FUCKING UNREALISTIC SO PUSH REAL POSSIBILITIES AND CONSEQUENCES OUT OF YOUR HEAD. bro attempts to conceal horny behaviors at a restaurant with Y/N's friends at the table.

warnings: fingering n shi, public lowk exhibitionist level debauchery, some praise

wc: bout 2.5k

Y/N has dragged Jack to dinner with her 3 best friends. He is sitting right up against her on her left. She brought him because these girls have changed her life, and she feels like he might learn some things about her just by understanding her friends. It has been minimally awkward thanks to the fact that her friends never run out of things to joke about, and if one person is distracted or inactive in the conversation, the other three will have absolutely no problem keeping it going at full energy. Not that they wouldn’t notice if something is wrong, of course, but they don’t try to drag people in who don’t seem engaged at the moment.

So, whenever Jack has had quiet personal exchanges with Y/N during this dinner, it has been no problem for the flow of conversation, and her friends have just ignored it. Easily, because the couple is kind of tucked into the dark corner of the booth while two others sit on the other side, and one decided to pull up a chair at the open part. Maybe they silently agreed that they should give them some space. They know Y/N well, after all.

Her friends have talked to Jack a little bit, but Y/N mostly just brought him as a spectator this time since the girls have an unstoppable wavelength. He knew this going in, of course, but he also knows that he is allowed to take as much of Y/N's attention as he desires at any point. Fortunately, he is a considerate guy and hasn’t kept her away from them.

However, Y/N has a limited social battery which at this point is starting to run low. They know this, and they know not to try to push her too hard when she gets quiet. They have been friends with her since high school, and they know she is happier just to listen than to drain herself, so they don’t call her out and keep acting normal. Or, at least as normal as they get. Y/N and Jack are done with their food, and the other girls have a few bites left on their plates, but their antics are still going strong. Two of them are currently debating whether they should prank the waiter.

Y/N is chuckling quietly as she observes her dear friends who rarely get a chance to unite these days, with all of them having split up for college. Jack, on the other hand, is no longer engaged in the conversation, and as his right arm rests around Y/N's shoulders, his fingers gently start to stroke her upper arm. Grazing softly up to her shoulder, down her bicep. She feels such a sense of contentment and warmth in this moment, sitting here and watching her friends laugh together while she leans against her man who is subtly expressing his love.

However, Jack’s ideas are starting to wander a bit into different territory. It has been a long dinner. He notices Y/N seems a little tired, so he leans close and whispers in her ear, “You know, I’m starting to get a little antsy. Wanna leave and do something…else…?”

She blushes a little bit when she realizes what he’s thinking, but despite her being tired, she doesn’t want to leave these girls. She likes just being here, in their presence and simply listening, even when she is too tired to participate. It has been a long time since they have all been together and she doesn’t want to cut it short just yet. She sighs, “I don’t wanna leave them yet. I like listening.”

He nods, “I get it baby. You keep enjoying them. I’m just gonna be over here enjoying you if that’s okay.” His right arm stays across her shoulders, but his left hand starts brushing against her left thigh under the table. His foot nudges hers a bit as well.

Y/N makes a very small noise when she feels his attention shifting to under the table. This could be dangerous, because she’s wearing a skirt, and she can tell he’s getting ideas. She casually takes a sip of her water to try to calm herself down, but she doesn’t push Jack away. She would be lying if she said she didn’t want him a bit right now, but it’s hard to choose between him and her best friends. They are mercifully ignoring the couple, but nonetheless, Y/N tries to keep her expressions under check as she feels her arousal build.

Jack smirks when he notices her body language giving him permission to pursue his devious thoughts. His hand keeps grazing her thigh, and he leans in and speaks in a soft and intimate voice, “I’m sorry baby, it’s just that I’m kinda hot for you right now.” Then he kisses her neck quickly before pulling his face away.

She stiffens at the kiss, and mumbles under her breath, “Hey. Nothing they can see.”

He processes this for a second, a secretive smile slowly building as he realizes her implication. He muses, “Hmm…okay. No one can see. So, you mean…” and his thoughts focus on what he could do under the table.

Y/N keeps looking ahead casually, but she gets an idea and spontaneously speaks up to the whole group, startling Jack a bit, “Hey anyone want dessert?”

Her friends look at her and pretend they don’t see her cuddled up to Jack (she waited so long to have any sort of romantic interaction with guys in her life; she deserves for no one to get in her way now), and they nod in agreement. They are up for dessert.

They politely get the attention of the waiter and order some desserts. Y/N gets a lava cake. That’s not particularly important, but it’s good stuff.

Once the waiter is gone, Jack pulls Y/N a little closer and the girls go back to their spirited conversation, infinitely expanding on some joke that probably started 5 minutes ago. Jack whispers in her ear, “Mmm you never clarified the conditions of ‘nothing they can see,’ babe.”

She replies with a bit of a bite in her voice. He’s got her all ready for some unspeakable deeds right now and she is not having the whole uncertainty act, “You can do whatever the hell you want under the table. Pretty self-explanatory.”

He chuckles softly, “Don’t test the waters if you’re not ready to swim in the deep end, Y/N.”

She mumbles under her breath, “I am the deep end.”

Jack smiles and slides his hand up her inner thigh a bit more. He’s just at the edge of her skirt now, “Oh yeah? I know you’ve got the potential to be the whole damn pool. You there yet baby?”

Y/N grits her teeth, “Feel.”

He complies, sliding his hand up the remaining distance and letting it brush against her panties. He doesn’t even need them out of the way to feel how wet he’s gotten her with all this flirting.

A soft, shaky breath escapes her lips, “Feel that? There’s your damn pool.”

Jack has to bite his lip to keep from grinning, “Mmmhmm. Can’t wait to get deep in that water.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but a little sound in her throat betrays her before she whispers, “Jesus Christ.” She quickly reaches down and pushes her panties to the side, leaving her bare under the table.

Luckily, at this moment, the desserts come out. She gets her lava cake and glances around to make sure none of her friends have any attention directed under the table, then she takes the first bite. This was a fantastic plan on her part, because everyone knows she is dramatic with yummy food. A lot of “Mmmmm”s that are just about indistinguishable from moans. She’s not the best at staying silent, so this way, any noise that slips is warranted.

Just as she starts to dig in, Jack slips a finger in her wetness. She reels slightly and nearly chokes on her food, but she keeps it together as much as humanly possible. He looks awfully proud of himself. Y/N glances at her friends again, making sure they are deep in conversation and his finger slowly pulls out, dragging some fluid up over her clit and the surrounding area. Her eyes flutter, and then he casually starts massaging it. He’s kind of all over her right now, but his arm is impressively still as his fingers start to work, so as long as no one pays too much attention, it looks just like some couple who is obsessed with each other all cuddled up in the booth.

Y/N's eyes widen and then close when he finally starts giving her some very direct pleasure. She sighs and rests her face in her hand. Honestly, this is also a completely plausible food reaction from her. Thank god she is so dramatic.

Jack can’t help but bite his lip and smile slightly. His hand is moving back and forth rhythmically, slowly and softly, occasionally dipping a finger in the source to drag some more wetness over her folds. And every time she responds to him, he does it with a little more confidence. Applies a little more pressure. He rests his head on her shoulder, acting like he’s tired and that’s why he’s all over her. When he decides she’s ready, his fingers start moving in those little circles.

Y/N lets out a shaky exhale at these new developments, making it look like she’s zoned out so that her friends don’t try to acknowledge her. She is slowly picking at her dessert, because this is her only safety net for this whole experience. If the lava cake is finished before she is, there will be a lot of explaining to do for any moans that escape after the fact.

But damn, he knows her too well. Those fingers are not new to this domain. He's still going slowly, but it’s all in the right places and just enough pressure to send intense heat throughout her body. Y/N risks a glance down at her lap and regrets it. Through an incredible feat of willpower, she is able to keep herself from reacting visually or audibly, but the sight of his perfect fingers all wet from her pussy, rubbing her under the table…just, damn.

Though his head is on her shoulder, looking lazy, he is hyper-focused on her every reaction. The way her thighs are parted, the way she grips the fork a little too tightly, the way she looks around the table to make sure no one is paying attention. He smiles to himself and picks up the pace now.

Her face flushes uncontrollably and she feels her hips twitch, almost grinding herself against his hand just once. She chugs some water and then takes a sizeable bite of her dessert, letting herself release a nice “Mmmmmm” as the feeling builds and as his fingers just keep going tirelessly.

Of course, Jack seems to be in a bit of a cruel mood. He certainly notices the signs that her pleasure is snowballing, and he takes this as the perfect opportunity to slow down significantly to tease her.

She almost groans. She has to grit her teeth to keep herself from jumping him right here. Y/N's free hand grips the edge of her seat with white knuckles.

He chuckles almost silently and puts some extra pressure on her clit. He’s still rubbing her at a painfully slow pace, but he’s pressing into it hard.

Y/N lets out an audible moan this time and immediately digs into the lava cake to mask it. She whispers with urgency, “Jack, faster. Like right now speed up I’m close.”

Apparently, he has mercy on her, because he speeds up to his previous pace and keeps the pressure high. He knows that she is about to finish. He’s excited to see how she handles that in a setting like this.

She puts her fork down and puts her head in her hand for a second to hide her face, and she essentially has to hold her breath to keep from moaning loudly when her orgasm hits. She lets out a heavy exhale and keeps gripping the booth hard as she endures those continuous waves of intense pleasure, the thrill of the setting making it feel even better, maybe.

Jack feels the telltale spasms of her pussy when it happens, and he gives her a super quick peck on the neck before whispering, “Good girl.” His hand slows down, matching her slowing contractions. The little circles are soft and gentle now, making sure she’s well taken care of before he stops completely. Then he raises his head up a bit and whispers in her ear, “So good baby. You did so good for me.”

Y/N lifts her head, but she has to close her eyes for a second when he says that, pushing down the reaction she would normally have. She gently pushes his hand away and slides her underwear back into place, whispering a response, “I’m gonna finish this dessert and then tell them I don’t feel good, and we can get out of here. Safe to say I haven’t been listening to them for a while.”

Jack nods and seems impressed with himself that he pulled that off. Y/N is having a hard time believing they really just went completely unnoticed, especially since she would typically be at least a little more active in conversation, no matter how drained her social battery may be. She thinks they probably knew something was going on and they weren’t about to take that away from her. They are absolutely not the type to do the same thing, but they know Y/N is crazy as fuck when it comes to guys she wants. She finishes her dessert and chuckles to herself. She’s going to have to pay them back for that feigned ignorance.

Y/N does indeed tell them she and Jack are going to take off for the night, but she doesn’t end up blaming it on feeling bad. They can handle a couple wanting to be alone together.

Once they are in the car, Jack looks at her, “You didn’t give them an excuse.”

She chuckles, “They didn’t need it. Be realistic; they knew you were touching up on me at least to some degree. Those girls won’t want to deprive me of fun times.”

Jack furrows his brows and nods slowly, then they drive home pretty quietly. Unfortunately for him, he was the one who was horny in the first place and his dick is still unattended. He places his hand on Y/N's thigh. It isn’t unusual, but Y/N feels some undertones in it. She smirks as she looks out the window. She’s a young woman who happens to have a serious appetite for sex; she can handle whatever he may need when they get some privacy.

[i was gonna do a whole part after they got home, but i wrote basically all of this like 2 months ago and honestly im not locked into this scenario anymore. aint nobody got the energy]

#jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #hockey fic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #hockey smut #smut

[lacebvnny]

- Bound to you, among the flames -

Aemond Targaryen x Female!reader

Summary: Set after Storm's End. You are to marry prince Aemond Targaryen -the killer of your beloved friend Lucerys-, in the old Valyrian way.

Rating: +13, arranged marriage

A/n: Okay, I was pretty unsure to post this one. Keep in mind English is not my first language. Enjoy! Feedback will be appreciated 🥺

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her feet sank in the softness of the damp sand, and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore tore her attention away from the speech of the monk standing next to her and her husband.

/Hen lantoti ānogar/

No, he wasn't her husband yet. This wasn't a customary wedding, at least not in westerosi tradition. Perhaps that's why the dowager queen let her dissaproval be known and refused her attendance that morning, forcing the solitude and the intimacy in the ceremony to stand out in the vast coast where Aemond decided it would be held.

She cursed him in her mind when the heaviness of her eyelids made the restlessness she had the night before become more evident, as the prince instructed her days prior that she should be present before the break of dawn.

There was a chill in the cold, morning brisk that made her skin shiver, and the flames coming from the fire holders surrounding them weren't enough to warm her.

/Va syndroti vāedroma/

Y/n felt ridiculous, out of place even, when she saw herself wearing the ornamented headpiece and the silky, oversized robe meant for her to use that morning. It wasn't at all what she expected, not in the least close to the frugality of the dress she would be wearing in the evening at the sept.

Isn't this meant to be used only by pure blooded valyrians?, she wondered, but she was well aware that wouldn't be a fact Aemond would let in into his obtuse, stubborn mind.

She even imagined how Aegon the conqueror and his sisters would turn in their graves if they saw them tanting the millennial ritual by binding a Targaryen with a puny westerosi. Hell, even Aegon -the drunkard- laughed his ass off when he received the news of his younger brother being wed to her in the old fashion.

/Mēro perzot gīhoti/

He wore the same muted robe as she did, but this time a heavily decorated eyepatch adorned his angular face, besides the relaxed smirk he had from the second he spotted her moments before she stood next to him.

It was unfair, she thought, how the dressing fitted so well on him, as much as she hated to admit.

The ancient outfit was meant to combine with his valyrian, regal features, and the statuesque demeanor he showed made her feel like a fragile and simple peasant, as if he was a prince who came from the Old Valyria to be bound with her for eternity.

/Elēdroma iārza sīr/

Y/n spotted the pink wine tint on their shoulders and immediately reasoned how it blended together with the warm sky above them, the same as the creamy soft color on the ends of the robe, just like the sand where they stood.

Oh, so this is why he chose the sunrise...

/Izulī ampā perzī/

The lady felt her legs quivering when the monk handed the prince a small knife, but then she recalled how the main point of the ceremony centered around joining their blood together.

Aemond turned to face her, with a reassuring look on his only eye, as if he knew he frightened her by holding the small, glassy weapon. He closed the distance between them and raised her chin with his cold digits as he lifted the dagger near her face.

Hearing him mutter a soft look at me, y/n felt a sharp sting on her bottom lip, which made her eyes water as the cold material left a fresh wound where it slid down.

The Targaryen traced her pillowy lips with his thumb, collecting blood to draw a small figure on her forehead with it.

She didn't understand what it meant, and y/n wished, if he was so adamant on being wed to her, that he could at least had the consideration of taking his time to explain to her the vows the priest spoke in that rich language of theirs, and the blood sigils they were supposed to mark on each other.

/Prūmī lanti sēteksi/

Before she could ponder on the strange words, Aemond grabbed her hand giving her the knife with a determined look on his face, expecting her to do the same to him.

She stepped closer to him and, much to her dismay, her trembling hands dropped the knife to the ground. Y/n felt her face burning with shame and heard a small chuckle coming from the prince standing in front of her.

Asshole, prick, jerk, accursed kinslayer. A whole cascade of insults towards him crescented in her mind.

Clenching her teeth with anger she crouched, swiftly picking up the instrument while holding her headpiece in place to prevent it from falling. She didn't need to embarrass herself any longer that morning.

/Hen jeny māzīlarion/

Y/n held the dagger tightly and she stood on her tiptoes so she could allow herself to reach the towering valyrian, finding balance gripping his upper arm and finally giving him the small cut on his lip.

Aemond had to lower his face for her to draw the bloody symbol on him, and she prayed in her mind she drew the correct figure as she remembered it was.

Once his hand reached hers to take the knife, the knot on her throat tightened almost constrictingly as she observed Aemond giving himself a long slash, feeling immediate nausea when she saw the sanguine fluid pooling on the palm of his hand.

She was certain Aemond probably knew she wouldn't have the courage to cut herself, and proved right when he extended her arm by the wrist firmly to prevent her from pulling it back.

Without warning, the icy steel bit her and y/n flinched in pain, choking a small whimper as Aemond put their hands together intertwining their fingers, almost as if he tried to comfort her.

Her blood mixed with his when her palm rested between his long calloused digits, dripping through the small spaces allowing them to be joined together in this old rite the prince insisted so much to carry out.

The seeping crimson liquid gave his usually cold skin an odd warmth, almost nostalgically so.

/Qēlossa ozūndesi/

The priest approached them continuing his chanting, offering her a wooden cup to drink from. Y/n inspected the small runes carved on it before putting it to her lips and taking some slows sips of what appeared to be spiced wine, with her tongue starting to burn fiercely.

It seemed Aemond wasn't bothered by the fiery sensation after his turn to drink from the cup, his usual calm facade remained intact.

/Syndroro ōñō jēdo/

His feet took a step closer to her, as she tried avoiding the intense stare from his one eye while he slowly leaned down to caress her cheek.

The soft stroke became a strong grip on her jaw, and the prince began closing the distance between them, placing his lips on hers, need and want emanating from the rythm of his breathing.

Much to y/n's surprise, the kiss was soft, slow, maybe too passionate for a religious ceremony as his mouth found hers with boiling desperation, forcing the hotness under her skin rush to her cheeks in seconds.

One of his hands kept her in place while the other found rest in her shoulder, gently tugging at her robe as if he couldn't wait to free her from it.

Nevertheless, y/n had no other choice but to return the kiss, closing her eyes and imagining the one kissing her was the sweet prince who spent his afternoons on the library with her reading about history, and not the murderer who plotted her dear friend's death.

/Ry kīvia mazvestraksi/

She heard Aemond groan softly in frustration when he pulled away, as if he had to refrain himself from claiming her mouth how he truly wanted.

When the priest finished his vows, they both stared at each other while the fires cracked vigorously before being put out.

Y/n was too well aware Aemond could see the fear and rejection in her eyes, unlike him, whose gaze was so ardent it made her shrink into a tight knot of nervousness.

- Our blood is bound together now, Rūs.- he expressed, a hint of excitement blossoming on his voice,- ... I will finally make you mine tonight.

The soft burr from his tone and the lascivous threat almost made her spun on her heels to run away.

- I won't allow you in my bed!- she replied with irritation.

Aemond only chuckled, wearing his usual stance with his arms behind his back.

-Hm... I will be your lord husband once the high septon anoint us with the Seven's blessings, so...- the prince dangerously leans over her, revelling on her anxious state.

I think I'll have the right to do as I want with you.

#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #mine #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell

[sturniccz]

Just for the night?

Chris Sturniolo smut. Part 1.

In which a girl whom enjoys the company of the loud, banging in her head, just needs a rest.

Warnings: dom!Chris, sub!Reader, use of petnames, degration, smut (no sex yet, just some sexy activities), friends w benefits situation?, rough!Chris, mentions of drug use, yelling/arguing, lmk if i missed anything!

Not proofread, feel free to send requests!

___________________🎀__________________

Parties were always your favorite thing. To say the least, you lived for the feeling of the freedom, and the bond with you and the people surrounding you in the one night that you experience with them. House parties were particularly your favorite because it was more likely you would know majority of the people there.

Tonight the triplets are throwing a party just for fun because you had mentioned a few days prior how much you had missed the feeling and the adrenaline. 

Less than two hours ago they had come back from their ‘plug’ with a decent amount of inventory. They had it all. Four vapes, one for each of you, a decent sized bag of weed and two packs of papers, not to mention the four Smirnoff bottles and maybe 500 Solo cups. Easy to say they know how to throw a party.

After receiving your bag of things that they got for you, your vape, a new mascara, some nail glue, and a new toothbrush, you head down to Chris’s room to begin your painful process of getting ready. Regardless of when they tell you that you don’t need all of the makeup and hair products, you can’t help but feel extra pretty once you have it on. 

you always keep a few things here and there in the house so you already have almost everything you need to get ready. Thankfully they picked up a new mascara for you, otherwise you wouldn’t have any.

getting comfortable and Chris’s bathroom, setting your stuff on the counter, and sitting on the countertop, you begin to apply some natural makeup. after maybe 20 minutes you had finished your make up and heard footsteps coming from the stairs of the basement. Turning around to meet eyes with Chris. 

“You look nice,” Chris says, not really paying any attention to anything other than your makeup.

“How sweet, you aren’t even looking at anything but my face,” You begin, “and you wonder why I never wear makeup.”

Chris looks up from his phone as you speak, finally taking the time to fully take in your presence. “Oh come on, you know I’m right.” Chris says, just above a whisper, leaning on the doorframe behind you, beginning to stare at you in the mirror.

Chris always knew how to get to you. He understands you better than anyone else, including yourself, and he knows what will make you feel better in any situation. But, this he also uses for his own entertainment, at times. He knows what you like. You dont.

“Oh Chris please, if you think I actually care, you’re wrong.” You state as you finish your hair, just a simple half up look.

Chris begins to protest but before he can get anything out you cut him off. “What one should i wear? Red or Black?” you begin to question, holding up a black satin dress which hugs your waist and stops right above your knee, completing with off the shoulder sleeves, slightly more sheer than the rest, and a simple red dress that looks almost the same as the black, except the chest, has a somewhat different cut, exposing more of your cleavage than the opposing dress.

Already knowing Chris’ answer, he replies quickly. “I like the red one, we can match, I have a red tie.” He states as he begins walking towards his dresser, pulling out a red silk tie from the very top drawer.

After a little banter you both eventually agree on matching and he also somehow convinced you to wear your hair down. This is going to be a long night.

After what feels like 30 minutes since you have last, talked to Chris, a considerate amount of people arrived at the house. The living room and kitchen is now full with guests and couples linger the halls and stairways, kissing and touching all over.

The sound of the loud bass coming from the speakers, and the mingling of the guests, brings back a feeling that you know you will never forget. You can tell Chris is on aux from the musical choices, but you weren’t complaining, that man has good taste. 

“Hey pretty lady, what brings you here?” an unfamiliar voice exclaims from behind you to your left, right as you finished walking up the stairs from Chris’s room in the basement. “Never seen you before, are you somebody’s plus one?” he finishes, now looking face on at you. You cant help but think where Chris is at, and how he knows this man. He seems to be in good shape, no older than 23, yet still weird considering nobody ever comes up to you unannounced like this.

“Oh I’m friends with Nick!” you begin to explain, hoping that’s enough information for this man to leave you alone.

The man seems to be listening well, making eye contact with you as you explain your relation to the hosts. You begin to walk away after saying goodbye, and immediately lock eyes with Chris from across the kitchen.

He’s seemingly comfortably sat next to Matt, chatting with some random person you’re sure you’ve never seen before. He keeps his eyes on you as you begin walking over to him, slowly pushing past some groups of people before finally standing next to him.

He puts his left arm around you, the other leaning against the wall as he looks down at you with a look you cant seem to read. “Who’s that?” he blatantly asks, obviously, not in the mood to hear anything come out of your mouth other than that he’s a stranger. 

“Oh I dont know just some guy,” you begin, looking behind you at the man you had previously stumbled across a few moments ago. “I’ve never met him before.”

“You alright? Did he say anything to you?” Chris finishes as he takes a long drag from a j Matt had previously rolled for the group to share, while looking into the back of the mans head, seemingly wanting to destroy him.

“Oh no he didn’t do anything dont worry about it Chris.” You say looking up at Chris and taking the j from his right hand, also taking a puff. Chris continues staring, and you break him from his thoughts.

“Chris.” You state, forcing him to look at you as you continue, “Dont stress about it, its all good. I promise.” You say as you interlock your pinkies, taking a final puff before handing the j to Matt, whom has been waiting very patiently, before returning your attention to Chris once again.

He releases his hand from yours and rejoins the conversation he had been in previously, reverting his attention to the group.

The night has been amazing. You’ve been having so much fun, catching up with old high school, friends, taking shots with your old girlfriends and throwing up once or twice. regardless of the love you have for nights like these, they always seem to eventually become too much for you. 

You begin searching through the house for Chris once again, moving from upstairs in the loft with a group of your old girlfriends to the kitchen, where you previously had been met with Chris. 

right as you notice, Chris from across the living room, sitting on the couch conversation with Nate, the same man from earlier stopped you in your tracks. 

“Hey pretty, yknow I never got your name?” he asks sweetly, obviously trying to play at your feelings as he steps closer to you, cutting off your field of sight to Chris.

Only wanting to leave the situation and finally get to some peace and quiet, you feel as the best answer is to just tell him your name, excuse yourself, and return to Chris once again, but he had other plans.

“Im y/n,” you start, clearly trying to look over his shoulder as to search for Chris. “Oh is that your boyfriend?” he asks in a genuine manner, willing to back off if you were taken.

“Yeah it is, Chris is my boyfriend.” You state, standing your ground and forgetting about looking over his shoulder. “Oh I’m so sorry then y/n, I’ll leave you guys alone.” he says before finally walking away back to his clique.

before you can even refocus your gaze to where Chris had been seated, you had noticed that he was gone. You thought nothing of it as you just wanted to get to some peace and quiet, so you finish your voyage from upstairs to downstairs as you finally reach Chris’ bedroom door. 

After knocking and hearing no noise from the other side, you let yourself in and begin taking your dress off to get comfortable for sleep. that is until Chris’s bathroom door opens, revealing a shirtless, high, and tipsy Chris.

you usually would think nothing of it, as you have seen him shirtless before, and he has seen you in a bikini before. Somehow some thing about this environment seems different as his gaze deepens from his frozen place from the bathroom doorway.

“You just gonna stand there?” You chuckle as you finish taking your dress off and begin putting on one of Chris’ hoodies.

“And look at you like this? Hell yeah?” Chris says from the doorway, slowly making his way over to you, leaning on his dresser listening to you speak.

“Well, I’m not gonna be ’like this’ for much longer, because I’m going to sleep, Chris. Now if you’d please, I would appreciate if I could take my makeup off.”  You say.

Chris just stands there. Staring, mouth agape, as his eyes trace over your features, almost sinfully. He knows you have clothing on, but you have never looked so beautiful to him in any other environment. Standing in front of his bed in nothing but your lace panties and one of his fresh love hoodies. God, he can’t seem to get enough of it.

“Fine, go to sleep but keep the door locked, i don’t want your new boyfriend coming in here and fucking you on my bed.” He states as he remembers who you had previously been talking to, and why he went downstairs in the first place.

“Oh Chris, what did I tell you?” You ask remembering your pinky promise from earlier as you take a seat on his bed.

“Its fine y/n just dont get my bed stained.” He says before opening the door, waiting for a response.

“Chris you can’t be serious right now!?” You raise your voice at him from across the room. “I pinky promised you! I dont fucking know who he is and I definitely don’t want him anywhere near me?!”

“Yeah then why are you in my room huh?!? to fuck him?!?” he yells louder than you, almost like a competition.

Your eyes go wide and your legs cross as you take in the sight of the man in front of you. Filled with mixed emotions of rage and jealousy. Something about seeing Chris in this state causes a small little match to start within you, and you cant get enough. All you want to do is make him even more angry at you just to see where this goes. God, you’re a mess.

“Yeah so what if I was gonna fuck him Chris?!? Im not a baby I can do whatever the fuck I wanna do!!” You yell in his face, and the look that those two sentences put onto that man’s face, you will never forget. He looked so strong and like he could do anything he wanted to you. And he did.

Chris loudly slams the door shut with his foot, locking it behind him as he pushes you by the shoulders onto his bed. “You wanna fuck him? Huh?!?” he yells into your face, just inches apart as he hovers over you, never daring to make contact to your skin. Not just yet.

You look up at him feeling helpless. The feeling you are getting from this is like no other you have ever experienced. A lust stronger than your insatiable love for the adrenaline of the party.

“I asked you a fucking question, whore” He says, just above a whisper, almost as though if anyone heard him call you such foul names, that he would be sentenced to death, as he begins softly kissing just below your ear, somehow, already knowing your sweet spot.

“Chris- I-I” you cry out, not being able to form a full sentence. The scent of him and the feeling of his teeth in your neck, his hair against your jaw, its unreal.

“Yeah not so bratty now are we, baby?” He teases as his hands move up your waist, softly running his hands up and down your sides. “You love the feeling of my big hands on your tiny body, don’t you, love?” he asks from your neck.

“Chris please-“ Is all you can get out, somehow you have already lost all willpower it takes to form a sentence.

“Oh yeah? What do you want, my love? You want me dont you?”

“Y-Yes-“ you whisper from below him, your arms now wrapped around his neck as he begins grinding down on your hips, and damn, he is hard.

“You feel that, baby? Do you feel my dick, baby? Fuck you love how hard I am for you, huh?” He knows just how to get to you, and fuck is it working.

His lips attach to yours in a fast, filthy, makeout session. He kisses you like he had always wanted to, the way he fantasizes about.

Suddenly Chris’ bedroom door opens with a loud bang, and you both freeze and simply look at eachother. Oh, fuck.



#sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris x reader #sturniolo smut #chris smut

[nicksbestie]

hi!!! im not sure what kind of prompt tbh but can u pls write a jake webber x agere fem reader fic please🥺

absolutely!!!! i love these reqs so much :)

Naptime

warnings : none

pairing : jake webber/reader (romantic)

word count : 930

Jake was a wonderful person. He was a kind, loving, sweet, considerate human being, and all of that was reflected tenfold in his relationships. He always made sure that his partner felt valued and supported, loved and cared for, and should there ever be a doubt in that, he would do everything that he could to fix it. He took every new adjustment in stride, always being willing to hear out someone else’s side of the story, knowing that while he may not agree, it was important to hear them out. He was someone who always kept an open mind, and because of that, his partners had always felt comfortable coming to him to have conversations about many different things. And you had been no different. 

You had been through a lot in a very short amount of life, and because of that, there were a lot of different coping mechanisms you had tried to use to help with everything, but there were very few that actually helped you, and only one that positively influenced your healing. That mechanism was regression. It was a perfect fit for you, as the events that you had been through made you grow up too fast. It gave you an escape, for you to heal the inner child that had been harmed by the years of pain, but it also gave you an innocent space to enjoy quality time with people you trusted. And you were a very lucky little, because your partner had taken the information with an open mind and little to no hesitation. 

Your regression wasn’t something you broadcasted to a lot of people, not because you were ashamed of it, but because it was something incredibly personal to you, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want to run the risk of it becoming tainted in any way, as it truly helped your life for the better. However, when you and Jake really hit it off, you were transparent, and told him exactly what you were looking for. You didn’t think you could handle being in a romantic relationship without your partner being your caregiver, and because of this, when it got serious with Jake, you were open. You still couldn’t believe just how lucky you were to have found such a sweet person that loved you so much.  Which was what brought you to this point. 

You were cuddled up under Jake’s arms, wrapped up in a soft blanket wearing one of his shirts. A cartoon was playing on the television in front of you both, and his chin was gently resting on the top of your head, periodically placing soft kisses there. You had a small fidget toy clutched in one hand, and a stuffie tucked under your other arm. That was how you had spent the majority of the morning, just having a softer day and relaxing instead of bouncing around and playing a lot. You hadn’t slept too great the night before, and because of that, you were more tired this morning, so Jake did a lot more to help you than he normally did. 

You were a very independent little, at least by the standards, because you could do a lot of things for yourself, you just normally didn’t want to. And Jake never minded helping you more, knowing it made you feel smaller, more safe. But today you were too tired to do most of the things that you could normally do alone, so he helped. With simple things like picking out your clothes, lifting you onto the chair at the counter so you could eat breakfast, and even feeding it to you. He was endlessly gentle and kind, and that was reflected in all of his personality, not just when he was caring for you. He made sure that you never felt unloved, not even for a minute. 

When lunchtime came around, you walked over to the kitchen, your hands gripping his, and stayed right up against him while he fixed your food. It was always something that could be made quickly, paired with a fruit or a vegetable, and you always got a little treat afterwards. He filled up a sippy cup with juice, and once your food was fixed, he got you situated back on the couch, making sure the coffee table was close enough that you wouldn’t spill anything. And if you did, he’d just clean it up afterwards anyways. It was rare that he let you eat on the couch, knowing that more times than not there would be a mess, but he knew today was a sleepy day and you’d probably want him to feed you anyways. 

Once you had finished eating, you curled back up into Jake’s side, and he knew that you were about to fall asleep, probably within the next ten or so minutes. He shut off the tv, picking you up and placing you on his hip before cleaning up the plate and cup, setting them in the sink to wash off when he got the chance. He walked to your shared room, softly laying you down and tucking you in before laying down next to you, letting you curl up in his arms. You were a little who would never fall asleep without your carer there to hold you, and Jake knew that perfectly well. He always enjoyed naptime, considering it a wonderful period of quality time, and he was more than happy to rest with you. The rest of your day was soft and sweet, as it always was.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #jake webber age regression #caregiver jake webber #jake webber agere #johnnie guilbert age regression #johnnie guilbert agere #caregiver johnnie guilbert

[etherealbelphie]

An Unwanted Interruption (Ft. Lucifer and GN!MC)

Warnings: Slight romantic implications? (Lucifer has a crush on the MC if you squint)

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I've had a bunch of Christmas/winter themed stories in my drafts for a while, I figured it was about time to polish them up and post them! This will be the first of many :D This is also somehow the second Lucifer-centric fic I've ever written. This concept had me giggling the entire time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy it!

I think I added all the right warnings, if I should add any, please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer had agreed to take you to the human world during the holiday season.

While Christmas in the Devildom was alright, they hadn’t begun celebrating the holiday until much more recently, when Christmas became less about religion and more about spending time with those you love.

Christmas in the Devildom didn’t have the same history and tradition that the human world did.

Which is why you were so ecstatic, even if you were only going to a mall for a few hours.

“Come on, let’s go!” You said impatiently, bouncing on your heels.

“The human world is cold this time of year, is it not?” Lucifer asked, buttoning up his jacket.

You could’ve sworn he started going even slower just to spite you.

“It’s cold, but it’s not that cold,” you emphasized, gesturing to your outfit. You two were going straight inside, and you didn’t feel like lugging a ton of winter gear around. “You know there’s heating in the mall, right?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but finished buttoning the rest of his coat quickly. He tugged on his gloves, then turned to you. “Very well, let’s get going then.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you a little closer. “So the both of us will be teleported,” he claimed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t be bothered to decipher -though it sounded vaguely Latin- and next thing you knew, the two of you were standing in an empty alleyway.

“Holy crap, we’re here!” You exclaimed, unable to look away from the snow glittering in the sunlight. Even as the cold wind whipped at you, you could still feel the faint traces of the sun’s warmth.

“Of course we’re here,” Lucifer scoffed. “Did you really think I’d fail?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, though your mock-irritation was quickly replaced by excitement once more. “Now, come on! I know where we are! The mall is this way!”

You grabbed his hand and began leading the way through the snowy streets. If Lucifer had a problem with that, he didn’t say so.

With the enthusiastic pace you’d set, the two of you had made pretty good time, and were by the front entrance no more than ten minutes later. The first set of automatic doors opened, and the two of you stepped inside.

You sighed in relief as a wave of warm air hit you, then you turned to Lucifer. “So, what did you want to do first?”

“I don’t have a preference,” He answered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. “I figured that I would allow you to choose what we did today, seeing as you’re more familiar with this environment than I am.”

“Oh!” You paused a second, thinking. Lucifer always took your opinions into consideration, of course, but him having none of his own was exceptionally rare. “Well, when I’m here, I usually go to-“

You noticed a woman had approached the two of you, patiently waiting for you to finish your conversation.

“Ah…can we help you?” Lucifer asked.

She smiled, pulling a book out of her bag— Oh no.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?”

You were certain you had an expression of absolute horror on your face and couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Thankfully, Lucifer took the reins and answered. “Oh, no thank you.” He smiled at the woman politely.

“At least take this, then?” She held the book in his direction, and he recoiled.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I can’t touch that. I may literally burst into flames.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were absolutely mortified or about to start crying from laughter.

“What, are you a Satanist?” She asked, scowling.

“Certainly not,” Lucifer said, sounding offended at the mere suggestion. “He wishes.”

That response was enough to push you over the edge, unable to contain your laughter. This prompted strange looks from literally everyone around you, but you didn’t care.

The woman stared at you a long, long moment before she finally turned around and left, which only made you laugh harder.

Lucifer looked at you a moment. Though his lips were pressed together, you could see him cracking a smile too.

“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaimed between fits. “I- I didn’t know what to do!”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time, and I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time someone approaches me about my father. I’ve gotten good at responding. You, on the other hand…” He simply smirked at you, which made you start laughing all over again.

#obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me luci #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x mc #obey me lucifer x main character #obey me luci x main character #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me christmas