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bratphilia · 6 months

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glass window (w. afton x reader)

request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"

note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age

you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.

a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.

that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.

"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."

you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."

mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.

"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.

your dad turns to you. "how was class?"

"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."

his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.

steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.

he decides to make good use of his porch.

at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.

unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.

his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.

one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.

sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.

on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.

steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.

"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.

steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."

he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."

steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."

you look up at him. "what's that?"

he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."

"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.

"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"

you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"

"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."

he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control.

steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you.

slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now."

you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.

"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on."

you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core.

steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy."

you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly.

"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.

"need it that bad, huh, baby?"

"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him.

"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile.

he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.

he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.

he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.

"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.

you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.

he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."

the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.

he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.

"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."

"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.

"i will, honey, i will."

suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"

"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.

one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.

"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.

"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."

you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.

he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."

tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.

he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.

you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.

"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.

maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #steve raglan #william afton #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf movie #matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #william laughs evilly during sex. its canon #🧚‍♀️

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evie-sturns · 4 months

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swim - Chris Sturniolo

summary: your best friend madi, throws a pool party for her 18th. the nights going smoothly until chris invites you to come inside with him.

warnings: smut, nsfw, swearing, caught having sex,

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the blaring music from inside madis house was drowning out the splashes from inside the pool. i was sitting on the side of the pool next to matt until i feel a hand on my shoulder, followed by him sitting down next to me.

"oh hey chris!" i say chirpily.

the sturniolos have been my best friends for a while now, but chris has always been the person im closest to. i hate to admit it, but ive also had my eyes on him for a few months and he has no idea. i think.

by now matt's left to go get a root-beer from inside, me and chris are left alone sitting by pool, observing all the people swimming.

suddenly my heart skips a beat, chris's veiny hand is resting on my thigh. im only wearing a skimpy white bikini and a variety of gold jewlery. chris's fingers rub the inside of my thighs, making me squirm slightly.

he leans in closer and whispers into my ear "whats wrong y/n? why are ya moving so much." he says teasingly.

he definitely knows what he's doing

"chris." i say quietly, "hm?" he mumbles, squeezing my thigh tighter.

suddenly chris removes his hand from me and stands up, readjusting his shorts, he reaches a hand down and grabs mine, pulling me up onto my feet. he stays silent as he holds my hand, dragging me up the concrete steps and through madis backdoor.

the inside of her house is empty, apart from a few people in her kitchen, "chris? where are we going?" i say softly as chris pauses infront the stairs. "wanna go upstairs?" he says bluntly, but i can tell hes nervous.

"to do what exactly?" i question. sureley he's not implying what i think.

"hang out..?" he lies through his teeth, but i nod anyways, i mean i wouldn't be mad if anything were to happen. he walks up the stairs behind me and i can feel his eyes laying on me. i walk into to the bathroom and stand awkwardly as chris walks in.

his wet hair is sticking to his forehead, as he looks me up and down. he wearing nothing but swim shorts and a chain, and its driving me crazy.

tension grows between us, without warning he walks towards me and grabs my jaw and locks his lips with mine, my heart stops but i subconsciously wrap my arms around his neck, he reaches a hand down and grabs my ass. i pull away for a second to catch my breath, and he takes the opportunity to pick me up and kneel down on the bathroom tiles.

he lays me on my back and kneels between my knees

"is this okay?" he asks, looking in my eyes.

"chris fuck me please" i say attempting to maintain eye contact.

"you're so fucking gorgeous" he mumbles as he pulls my bikini top off from over my head, his eyes widen while im exposed for him. "can i take these off?" he asks, tugging at the waistband of my bikini bottoms and i nod frantically. he pulls them down to my ankles then discards them across the room.

"god your wet" he groans as he circles my clit with his finger, "so perfect." he continues, rubbing my clit faster. i feel the knot in my stomach clenching, my moans intensify as i grip him arm so hard my knuckles go white, suddenly he stops. "chris!" i whine and he smirks slightly "i know i know." he says pulling down his swim shorts, letting his boner spring out.

"oh my god." i groan quietly "can you spread a little more for me princess?" chris says gripping the inside of my thigh and pushing it, forcing me to spread my legs apart, he shifts slightly on his knees so he can come closer to me.

he lines himself up with my entrances and slowly sinks into me, i wince from the stretch "good girl. taking me so well" he praises as he starts to thrust slowly.

"chris oh my god" i moan as he picks up the pace

"im close baby" chris warns as his thrusts become more frantic.

the door to the bathroom swings open. my neck snaps instantly looking to the right at the door, matt nick and madi are all in shock as chris instantly pulls out and yanks up his shorts. pure humiliation floods through me, i feel sorry for chris aswell, his two brothers have just walked in on him pounding into me, their bestfriend.

Madi looks me in the eyes, her eyes are bulging out of her head but she shoots me a quick smirk before instantly swinging her body around and leaving the bathroom, she knows ive liked chris for a while now. im laying naked on the bathroom floor as matt and nick scream and slam the door to the bathroom shut.

chris looks at me in horror before he takes off out of the bathroom, leaving me embarrassed, naked and cold on the floor of Madis bathroom. i instantly stand up and pull on my bikini, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

i knew chris didnt like me, the look he gave me before he ran off was the only thing on my mind. he was probably just horny.

i sigh loudly before opening the door to bathroom and stepping out into the hallway. i run downstairs and out of the house down the front porch steps. i dont look back as i take off in my car in the direction of my home.

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(1 week later)

i haven't spoken to the sturniolos for a week, i've been utterly ashamed. i've felt used by chris, and humiliated from the fact my 2 best friends saw me like that.

i check the time on my phone, 10:25pm. ive been lying in bed all day, and haven't ate once. with a sigh i heave myself off of my bed and pull on a sweatshirt. i grab my keys and open my bedroom door, walking downstairs and out the front door. my eyes are puffy and red, this whole week ive been crying and dealing with the fact ive just lost 3 friends.

i open the door to my car and climb in, clicking on my seatbealt and pulling out onto the street.

after 10 minutes of driving, i pull into the parking lot of mcdonalds then turn off my car, i walk into the restaurant and my heart drops to my stomach,

nick, matt and chris are standing right before me and staring at me. i lock eyes with every single one of them, my bottom lip quivers and my eyes fill with tears as they continue to look at me. as soon as chris locks eyes with me i spin around and speed-walk out the door. i sprint towards my car and just sit in it for a good 5 minutes.

as soon as i pull into my driveway i see a text, my jaw drops.

chris

i'm coming over, we need to talk.

okay.

i get out of my car, im shaken up as i walk inside my house. i throw myself on the couch and wait.

i jump as my front door creaks open "its just me" chris calls out and i sigh. he walks into the living room and i wave at him, why the fuck did i wave?

he sits down on the couch next to me "im really sorry that happened" he starts "i shoulda locked the door." he says and silence grows.

"is that all?" i say with a small scoff.

"i dont know" he says nervously

"so you're not sorry about leaving me fucking humiliated naked on the bathroom floor then leaving me on delivered for a week?" i shout and chris's eyes widen.

"im so fucking sorry i honestly wasn't thinking" he pauses "and i know this isnt the right time but i really, really like you and i have for a while now" he says quietly and i gasp slightly "you do?"

"was it not obvious.." chris says smiling slightly

a comfortable silence grows between us until i break it, bursting out in sobs. chris jumps slightly before looking at me "hey hey, shit you okay?" chris says pulling me close to him and into his arms.

"sorry.." i say in between sobs

"you're okay, whats wrong sweetheart." he says rubbing my arm

"i just thought i'd lost you."

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i actually dont know if this is good help

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 5 months

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He’s mine || Billy the kid x oc!reader

Summary: Mrs Riley’s affection for Billy does not go unnoticed by you, or anyone for that matter. There was hardly competition because unlike her, you weren’t married and sworn to another man, but Mrs. Riley just needed a little push over the edge and she would be done for. What you didn't expect however, was that you would be there at the scene of her downfall.

Warnings: slightly dark oc! mention of blood, shooting, oc sorta manipulates Billy, possessiveness, guilt trapping, violence, mention of dead body

Wc: 4,712 this is a loooong one, longest one ive ever written lol.

A/n: Sofía does not back down when it comes to getting what she wants is all I gotta say 😃 also it's sorta long because I'm basically retelling some of the scenes from the btk episode but with sofia in it so..

Divider by @pommecita

In Mr. Murphy's sprawling house, the air buzzed with animated conversations, and the linger familiar scent of alcohol and smoke added to the vibrant atmosphere. You and Billy navigated the lively gathering, your hand on Billy's arm.

"There he is," A voice murmurs softy, pulling your attention away from Billy. "Billy! Come here." John Riley, Murphy's right hand man, beckoned him over for a chat. You could sense the hesitation within Billy but Mr. Riley persists. "I would like to introduce you to my wife," He rests his hand on the woman's waist. She looked no more than 3 years older than you, her hair elegantly arranged in a bun as she showcases her pearly white smile.

"Honey, this is the fella I was telling you about, this is Billy the Kid," Because of how tall Billy was compared to majority of the people here, Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley had to gaze up at him. "Billy belongs to The House now. This is Irene," John gestures to his wife.

Watching the entire ordeal by his side, you saw a glint of desire in Irene's eyes. "Howdy," Billy tips his hat nonchalantly, sporting a bored expression as Irene extends her hand out for a shake. Your gaze drifts around the room, noticing eyes already fixed on you as your hands delicately squeeze Billy's arm.

"So, you're a cowboy, are you?" She grins broadly, the smile stretching from ear to ear, her hand lingering on Billy's just a beat longer than deemed necessary for a married woman with high status like her. "Oh, he's an outlaw, baby," Mr. Riley corrects his wife with a sly smile. Leaning in, he murmurs into her ear, "This man's wanted for murder."

Irene subtly inches closer to Billy, her voice gentle and soft, "Well, it sure is nice to meet such a handsome outlaw." Her eyes carefully trace his features as Billy, feeing a tad bit awkward, manages a brief, but tentative smile, then glances towards Mr. Riley. "Billy," He bids him goodbye, tension already simmering, and he draws Irene along with him, her gaze remaining fixed on him.

"I don't like her," You assert boldly as Billy smiles, he loved it when you were up front with him. He turns to face you, his hand gently on your waist while the other finds its place at the base of your neck. "Me neither, sweetheart. She looks like trouble, and I don't want that," He reassures you, affirming his unwavering loyalty.

"Hey Billy," James Dolan interrupts his conversation with Jesse. "Uh, we've, uh, set up a little fun thing for you to do," he says, fixing an intense gaze on Billy. You set your glass down, and Jesse glances at you. "See, everyone here, they want to see what you can do with a gun, hmm?"

At the mere mention of guns, Billy's gaze shifts to the floor, and he leans back on the table behind him. "They've all heard the stories." Jesse uncomfortable shifts as you observe Dolan, "Murphy thinks it would be a great idea for you to give 'em all a little- you know- demonstration." He playfully slaps Billy's chest.

"Yeah? No." Billy says flatly, turning to leave before James firmly grips his arm "Okay, okay, Billy." He shakes head, his hands resting on his hips. You narrow your eyes at him, not liking him already. "I see you don't understand how the wicks. We're paying you a whole lot of money, so if we ask you to do something small for us in return," Billy's head drops, "we expect you to do it."

"Now, come this way," He gestures, anticipating Billy's compliance. Instead, Billy stands his ground, "I don't feel like doing that," You glance between Billy and James who kisses his teeth and beckons for a man named Jimmy.

Jesse turns around to face the table, pouring himself a glass of alcohol before extending the offer to you. A subtle shake of your head declines the offer, but Billy eagerly accepts, tossing his head back with a satisfied expression. James whispers into another man's ear, Jimmy you assume as he then continues to tell Billy how he should do this little, to show everyone how good he was.

"You can do that for us, yes?" Jimmy holds Billy's shoulder, his gaze on the floor once again. "And if you agree there, Billy, we got you a little gift, hmm?" James adds as he opens a wooden box revealing a gleaming double action revolver.

You weren't an expert on firearms but the subtle widening of Jesse's eyes before he averts his gaze signifies the weapon's quality "It's brand new. Very expensive. We think you're gonna like it," Jimmy adds as he and James stare at Billy.

Billy's gaze shifts from the gun to the two men standing before him. A momentary hush envelops the room before his eyes meet yours and Jesse's. A sigh escapes him as he sets his glass down.

Billy picks up the gun, inspecting it, before toying with it, eliciting gasps from those around the room. He then tucks it in his gun belt, pouring himself a reasonable amount of whiskey and downing it in one determined gulp. You approach Billy, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm as he wipes the corner of his lips.

"You sure you wanna do this?" You gently ask him, already knowing his reluctance. "What choice do I have, Sof?" He mutters before he's urged to move on.

"Ladies and gentleman, our friend Billy here's gonna demonstrate his gifts as a gunslinger and the reason why we hired him to protect all of our interest. Yeah?" Major Murphy's voice resonates with authority as Billy loads the gun barrel.

You stand alongside Jesse, a tantalizing sip of alcohol hovering at the edge of your lips as you observe the unfolding spectacle. Just a few feet away, Irene grips her satchel, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Come on, Billy!" Murphy exclaims, his applause echoed by the enthusiastic claps of those surrounding you.

Billy wipes his mouth, clearing his throat before fixing his gaze on the targets ahead. The initial shots are a breeze, a mere warm-up for someone of Billy's caliber. In a lightning-fast span of three seconds, all five glass bottles shatter, eliciting an eruption of applause from the captivated crowd.

You smile to yourself, you knew Billy was very skilled, this ordeal demonstrating it even further. He returns to the table where a range of guns were displayed. There's a palpable tension—anger, annoyance, perhaps both—etched across his features.

The stress of the last couple of days working for Murphy, threatening people out of their own homes, has left its mark on him. Night after night, Billy sought solace in you, pouring out his emotions as you offered him nothing but a listening ear and a comforting embrace.

In a swift motion, he removes his tie, choosing another revolver with a sense of purpose. The murmuring crowd hushes as Billy cocks the firearm, once again targeting cans on the ground—now more challenging to spot and precisely aim at, but not for Billy.

With each bullet making contact with the tin, a collective flinch ripples through the crowd, including Mrs. Riley. Unfazed, Billy seamlessly transitions to a rifle. He fires a few shots at a measured pace before seamlessly shifting into a rapid sequence of shooting, cocking, and repeating.

The tension in the crowd palpably escalated as Billy's anger became increasingly evident. The wooden backdrop itself caught fire amid his repeated shots, casting a fearful hush over the onlookers, the only audible sound being the ominous crackling of the flames.

You maintained a composed stance, your gaze unwaveringly fixed on Billy. He, too, remained motionless, likely processing the chaotic scene unfolding. A swift glance at Mrs. Riley revealed her frightened demeanor. Billy wiped his mouth, setting the rifle down, and approached you. Without a word, he took your hand, pulling you along as your eyes briefly connected with Irene, navigating through the subdued crowd.

"You okay, Billy?" You gently ask him knowing he was still fired up from before. He was sat on the bed, arms resting on his thighs with his legs open. You slot yourself in between them as your hands run through his hair, a tender attempt to soothe him.

He tilts his head back, his hands roaming around your back and down your . "You still seem stressed," You frown as he stares at you quietly, though the glint of mischief was still evident in his eyes. "I can fix that," You whisper against his lips before he kisses you aggressively, hungry, starving for more.

The saloon buzzed with the clinking of glasses and the shuffling of cards as Mrs. Riley sauntered in. Her eyes, keen with mischief, spotted Billy at the table, surrounded by others as he was deeply engrossed in the poker game, his attention fixed on the cards in his hands.

"Hey there Irene. Come to join in?" Sam says as Mrs. Riley smiles, "If you'll have me, Sam," As she approached, she ignored the way your hand rested on Billy's thigh as your eyes stay focused on the cards in his hands. Mrs. Riley couldn't help but cast a flirtatious glance his way, something that Billy doesn't catch on, but you do, and Charlie, who was seated on your other side.

"Good evening, gentleman," Her high pitched voice greets as you supress a subtle eye roll. True to their gentlemanly nature, they all reciprocated with polite greetings, Billy even taking his hat off as you remained silent. You silently threw daggers her way.

Your dislike towards the woman started from the second you caught her eyeing Billy when she sat beside her husband in the carriage. Even with Billy’s hands on your waist and the close proximity between the two of you that was more than platonic, it didn't seem to deter her away—drew her more in perhaps.

Undeterred, Mrs. Riley leaned in closer to Billy, her words tinged with flirtation. "My! It's Billy the Kid, isn't it?" She purred, a blatant expression of infatuation adorning her face, her smile captivating display aimed directly at him.

Billy's gaze finally shifts toward her for the first time since she stepped into the saloon. "Yes, ma'am," he responds politely, offering no more than a slight smile before his attention returns to the worn wooden table before him. You gently squeeze his thigh, and as his eyes meet yours, a silent understanding passes between you.

"Do not call me that," Irene interjects abruptbly. "It makes me feel old, and I am not old." She states, exhaling through her nose."I didn't mean to suggest you were," Billy quickly backs himself up.

Your gaze shifts to Charlie, and a subtle exchange of glances circulates the table. "I'm really so happy to see you, Billy," she utters, a faint smile playing on her lips, her voice lowering ever so slightly. The weight of her words hangs in the air, and Billy, in response, squirms uncomfortably in his seat.

You extend your hand gracefully above the space between you and Billy, a subtle bridge in the air. "Sofía Del Tobosco," you introduce yourself, your voice carrying the weight of confidence. Yet, she meets your greeting with a blank, unwavering stare, leaving the air between you tinged with an intriguing tension as the others on the table watch on.

"We haven't properly met, I'm Billy's-" "Aren't you Dulcinea's little sister?" With narrowed eyes, you retract your hand, an awkward silence settling over the table, "I'm good friends with her ya know," Mrs. Riley giggles, leaving you to decipher her intentions at the mention of your sister. A simple hum escapes your lips as you inhale sharply, shooting an annoyed look to Charlie, who quietly chuckles.

"Wanna start a new game?" Sam cuts through the silence. Irene gracefully declines the offer, "Oh, no. You go on. I'll watch," she smiles. "Good," you mutter under your breath, a quiet comment that only Billy and Charlie seem to catch.

Mrs. Riley gracefully raises a wine glass, "Here's to you, Billy," she toasts, her gaze unwavering as she lifts it to her lips. Billy's expression remains inscrutable as he watches. The corners of his lips hint at a subtle upward twitch before he speaks, "Well, we should get going."

You gladly agree with Billy as you get ready to leave, "Gentleman-" "Oh, no. Don't go," Irene cuts him off as Billy freezes, "Stay." Despite being on your feet, you cross your arms, fixing her with an irked expression. "Walk me home later?" She nervously proposes, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Your lips part in astonishment at her words. There was no way she asking that from Billy when clearly, he has a girl by his side. Billy's eyes flicker towards you, a subtly nod indicating his loyalty. Mrs. Riley persisted, "Please, Billy?" Just as you open your mouth to respond, Sam beats you to it.

"I'll walk you home, Irene," Sam says, diffusing the tension in the air. The relief on Billy's face is palpable as you gently touch his bicep and he glances at you. He bids farewell to the table, and you follow suit, exiting the saloon with Billy. His hand extends behind him, finding yours as he pulls you along with a certain urgency, knowing what the rest of the night would entail.

Amidst the haze of smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol, Jesse and his gang sprawled across the room, resting a chaotic atmosphere. You were making small talk with the people around like the mannered young woman you were.

Your keen eyes wandered around the room before landing on Mrs. Riley, who was making her way to Billy. You narrow your eyes, “Has she learnt absolutely nothing?” Your words spat out with an unmistakable tone of annoyance. Charlie lets out a subdued chuckle, shaking his head as he swirled the glass of alcohol in his hand, a wry smile playing on his lips as he watches Billy and Irene.

"Hello there, Billy," Irene came up behind him, a huge grin plastered on her face. "Mrs. Riley," he politely greeted her, a trace of urgency in his tone, "I wanted to see you. I really—I want to talk to you. I need to." Her words were slurred. Sensing trouble, Billy discreetly scanned the surroundings, his eyes discreetly seeking you.

"Uh- maybe now is not a good time," He made a move once his gaze fixated on your silhouette. "Oh no, definitely now. I have something to say," Irene interjected, pulling Billy back with a subtle sigh escaping him. "Get me another drink, will ya?" Her request carried an undertone of desperation, a silent plea to retain his focus.

Billy surveyed her, noticing the telltale signs that she had indulged in one too many drinks. "Sure," he bobbed his head before moving to find a servant holding glasses full of alcohol. "Gracias,' Billy thanked the woman with a smile before he redirecting his attention back to Mrs. Riley.

She gracefully retrieved the glass from his hand, her fingers delicately lingering on his before she flashed a captivating grin, taking a sip. "What did you want to say?" Billy, with a subtle furrow of his eyebrows, gently steered her back to the purpose of their conversation.

Mrs. Riley gulped. "I want to tell you about my husband," she began, and Billy couldn't help but notice a subtle shimmer in her eyes, dulled by the influence of whiskey. "What about your husband?" Billy questioned, a hint of confusion coloring his expression, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

"I- I hate him," she confessed, punctuating her words with another gulp of whiskey. At the abrupt confession, Billy's gaze eagerly sought yours once again. "You can't even imagine," She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Maybe this isn't the place to talk about this," Billy pointed out as he nervously looked at the people around who could possibly be listening.

There was silence in the air as Billy's words manage to sink into Irene's head. "No," she utters softly, delicately placing her glass on a nearby table. "Light my cigarette, will ya?" She gazed up at Billy, who sighed but complies, retrieving a packet of matchsticks from his pocket and igniting the end of her cigarette.

From afar, you were silently raging inside as you watch the two interact. You knew Mrs. Riley's affection was more than friendly, oh it was more than that. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," You mutter with an eye roll, fishing out a cigarette from your purse.

You move the end of the joint to a nearby candle letting it ignite as you take a few deep drags, eyes glued on Billy and Irene. "Thank you," Irene said lowly, her eyes looking off to the side before she directs her gaze back at Billy. "You know, you're very good-looking, Billy,"

Billy wets his lips, casting his gaze downward, an air of discomfort lingering in the unusual tension between them. "Can we go somewhere? I like you," she murmured, drawing nearer with a drop in her voice.

Billy knew what she was trying to do and he wanted nothing of it. He locks eyes with you for a fleeting moment, your silhouette veiled in smoke, a clear sign of your annoyance. "I don't think that's a good idea," He firmly says as Irene's hopeful expression drops. "Please. Please, Billy," She pleaded. There was something uneasy about how she was begging him.

"I told you I hate him. I have to get away." Mrs. Riley persisted as Billy's eyes search hers. He ignored the unsettling feeling in his stomach, "No. I'm sorry, Mrs. Riley." She pursed her lips before she lightly shook her head, her eyes closing for a brief moment, an acknowledgement of his rejection.

"Never mind," She giggled softly to herself, "It's not your fault," Irene gave Billy a smile before it drops slowly as if something inside of her was sinking. The two of them stood there for a couple of seconds before Billy felt her lips on his.

"What is she doing-" You stub your cigarette on the table, ready to storm off in Billy and Irene's direction before Charlie subtly interjects, his arm forming a barrier in front of you. Your eyes were wide in shock after witnessing the unexpected kiss. "Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, Charlie," you exclaimed, shooting him a pleading look.

"Yes, yes I did. But causing a scene won't help, besides, I think someone else could do that," Charlie whispered in your ear, prompting you to give him a puzzled look as your nails dig into his arm.

Charlie cocks his head to where Mr. Riley was, a few feet away from the two, standing with a few other men. You smirk to yourself, imagining the havoc you would create when you redirect Mr. Riley's eyes to Billy and Irene kissing. Charlie removes his arm from in front of you as you straighten up.

Seizing the moment, you deliberately raised your voice, "Is that Mrs. Riley with Billy?" The words echoed through the room, catching the attention of those nearby.

Mrs. Riley's husband, mere feet away, overheard the commotion. Anger flashed in his eyes as he turned to witness the scene, realizing his wife's inappropriate proximity to Billy. Without a word, he stormed out, following Mrs. Riley into the night.

You push your purse into Charlie's chest, "Watch this for me, will ya?" You gave him no time to answer before you were already moving away from him. You made purposeful strides to follow Mr. and Mrs. Riley, leading you outside.

"Hey!" You hear John's voice yell loudly as you hastily conceal yourself around the corner. You peeped from the corner as your eyes widen; John had a firm grip on Irene who was whimpering. "You fucking, lousy fucking bitch." He seethed, his hold on his wife unwavering.

"What do you mean?" Irene fired back, "I saw you in there, with Billy," John lowered his head as Irene shut her eyes. "I know what you were doing, You was trying to get him to fuck you, because you're a little fucking whore!" He taunted her, violently shaking her slender frame.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Riley seemed the slightest bit drunk. Sensing the intensity, you quietly moved to another spot to hear them better, "I'm tired. I want to sleep," Irene pleaded helplessly, pulling away. Her once-neat bun now betrayed signs of disarray.

"I've had enough of you. Do you understand?" John forcefully pulled her back towards him, and Irene released a pained groan. "You're a fucking embarrassment. You're always out there in heat. It's fucking disgusting and I've had e-fucking-nough!" He yelled in her face.

Part of you wanted to go out there and confront him, but what would that do? Your gaze involuntarily fell on the revolver snug in his gun belt—John Riley, a man not hesitant to use it, especially if he discovered you eavesdropping on their private dispute.

"So have I!" Mrs. Riley yelled back, making you slightly jump at the suddenness of it. "I've had enough of you; I hate you!" She roughly shoved him off of her, stumbling as she walked away.

From where you were hiding, you could see what she was doing. What she was reaching for in her garter. A revolver. Swiftly turning, she cocked it and fired, the shot lacking precision. Her lack of aim resulted in wounding John's upper right arm, and you instinctively covered your mouth to stifle a gasp, your eyes widening in shock.

Meanwhile, Billy had been searching everywhere for you. His search for you led him out front of the house where the unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced the air, prompting his head to whip in the direction of the noise.

Against the wall, you pressed yourself further, a silent witness to the unfolding chaos. In a single, fluid motion, Mr. Riley drew his gun, the metallic click resonating in the tense atmosphere before a decisive shot rang out. Her body dropped to the floor where you saw a clear view of the blood pooling around her body.

Your hands covered your mouth in both shock and horror. Trembling with fear, you couldn't tear your eyes away. At the echo of a second gunshot, Billy sprinted to the side of the house. The urgency became palpable – you needed to leave, immediately. Peeking cautiously around the corner, you saw John's back, hunched and vulnerable, as he clutched his wound.

You quickly slip out before you bump into a hard surface. Your eyes widen in shock as Billy stares down at you, his eyebrows knit in confusion yet his gaze reflecting genuine concern. Before he can question about your unexpected presence, his attention shifts behind you to where Irene's lifeless form lies sprawled on the ground.

His gaze then locks onto John, who winces in pain. "She's dead!" Billy instinctively pushes you to safety behind him; your breathing is quick and shallow, your chest heaving with rapid breaths. Billy's gaze remains fixed on Mrs. Riley.

"What did you do?" His voice turns cold, and the unmistakable sound of him cocking his gun follows. "Billy!" you whisper-yell, hand urgently tugging on his shirt. "She shot me! She tried to kill me!" John points to his bleeding wound, your fear lingering despite Billy's protective stance. "Now, get me some fucking help!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" James Dolan rushes in between the two, "what the hell is happening?" Billy's aim at John doesn't falter. "You're friend killed his wife." You flinch when John's yell rang through your ears, "She shot me! Look at me!"

"Okay, okay, just.... Billy," Dolan puts his hand on Billy's arm, lowering the gun, "Billy, put it down, all right?" Billy complies but hesitates when he puts his gun back in the safety of his belt. You clutch onto Billy's arm as pulls you into his chest, relief flooding through you as he holds you tightly.

"Hey, go fetch the doctor, huh?" You hear James yell. Unbeknownst to you, Billy's eyes stayed glued on Irene. His lip quivering slightly. There had been so much life in her just a couple minutes before, and now, he stared at her lifeless body, blood soaking into her dress.

As his hand moved to caress your hair, his eyes snap to James and John. James was ushering John to go back inside so that he could help him until Billy interjects. "We need a fucking sheriff!" He yelled, as you felt the vibration of his chest in your entire body as you clung to him even more.

"Billy, Billy please, take me out of here," You pull his face down in between your hands as he gazes at your desperate eyes. "Just, just get out of here!" James instructs the onlookers. Billy brushes the sweaty strands that framed your face back. "Sh, it's okay, 'm right here, sweetheart," He pulls you back into the warmth of his chest as you let out a choked sob.

“What were you doin' there?” The question, anticipated and inevitable, lingered in the air. Placing your cup on the kitchen counter, you turned to face Billy, his eyes fixed on you, awaiting your response. His expression, an enigma.

Exhaling through your nose, you crossed your arms, eyes drifting to the plant in the corner of the room. "I just wanted to check if she was okay, stumbling around the house drunk, Billy," you lied, leaving the part out where you saw them kissing and discreetly letting Mr. Riley know of the inappropriate behaviour his wife was partaking in.

Pushing off the counter, you approached Billy, your feet closing the distance. His legs, too long for the table, faced you, stretching out.

"Then Mr. Riley came, so I hid... And then it happened," you explained, shrugging. A sigh escaped your lips as you settled beside him, your hand offering a comforting squeeze to his thigh.

Billy scrutinized your features, finding sincerity in your eyes, yet sensing an underlying truth—you didn't truly care about Mrs. Riley's death. Your behaviour around her proved it.

"I just can’t stop thinking ‘bout it," Billy admitted, fingers toying with the mug handle before him. "Of course you can't, Billy-" You were cut off as Billy spoke, "She was even begging me! Fucking begged me to take her somewhere, away from him."

You bit your lip, containing your reaction to this new revelation. Irene begging him to take her away? Mr. Riley's accusatory words echoed in your mind, You were trying to get him to fuck you

"I-I should’ve done something. If I had taken her somewhere, she'd probably be alive right now," Billy stammered, and you moved to cradle his head, ushering him to stop. "Billy. Billy, stop." You spoke calmly, though turmoil brewed within.

He blamed himself for Irene's death, carrying the weight of responsibility for her demise, a fate she brought upon herself by flaunting more than friendliness—brazenly, in front of her husband.

"It is not your fault that Irene was murdered, okay?" you reassured him as he fell into silence. "Still, takin’ her somewhere could’ve helped-" "Stop!" You abruptly shouted, making Billy flinch in your grasp.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before releasing your hold on him, and Billy stared at you in shock. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I just-" You halted, inhaling again to gain your composure.

“Do you really think nothing bad would’ve happened to either you or Irene if you did take her somewhere? Billy, Mr. Riley would not have taken it lightly if he found out you did take his wife somewhere,” you reason with him.

Billy nodded slowly. "Yeah, you’re right." You gave him a tight smile, patting his thigh. "I should probably get going, Jesse wants to meet up with me." Billy stood, adjusting his hat, and you rose from the seat.

"Okay, be safe." Approaching him, you smiled up, and he slipped his arm around your waist. "I love you." Leaning in, you replied, "I love you too," your lips meeting in a tender connection.

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dottores · 11 months

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine.

notes: GUYS THIS IS MY FAV CHAPTER IVE WRITTEN SO FAR HDFISHDFSUAFDSDF

THE TIES THAT BIND

It was him. Distantly, his words resounded through your head but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t understand what he had asked you—his words sounded garbled and clear at the same time, as if he was speaking in an ancient language you couldn’t decipher.

It was him, your soulmate, the man you had been waiting your whole life to finally meet, the man that the gods had tied you with.

The man that ignored you all of these years no matter how hard you tried.

The man that attacked you at the inn.

Any elation you might have felt whittled away the longer you stared at him, anger and anxiety beginning to take hold instead. What had he said? The Second Harbinger? You felt unnerved, you had a feeling that you would somehow run into your soulmate while trying to find the evidence to condemn your stepfather but you had no idea he would be… this.

This is good, the more logical part of you tried to push through the turmoil of emotions you felt, you can use his position, this is your in.

But nothing about you was logical right now—part of you wanted to pull away, part of you wanted to slap him, and part of you wanted to throw yourself in his arms and grant yourself the warmth you’d been denied for so long. The divide in what you wanted to do had you frozen in place, unable to do anything.

Dance with me, he had said—phrased as a question but somehow you knew it wasn’t one.

Thin fingers wrapped around your other arm, Artem forcing your attention back to him, a worried expression directed toward you. “You don’t have to,” he said, and you swore the temperature in the room dropped at his words—maybe it was just a figment of your imagination due to the eerily cold feeling that swept through you, something that was clearly his and not yours, but from the way Artem and his cousins tensed, you thought it might not be.

He was angry, you couldn’t see it on his face—you could barely see his face, his mask hiding it from view, but you could feel it in your gut, an emotion that wasn’t yours pushing to the surface and threatening to break through. But it was more than just anger: if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought it was jealousy… a part of you wanted to feed into it to test the theory but you had a distinct feeling that would end with Artem being killed and he had been nothing but kind and helpful to you and you didn’t want to risk him like that.

“It’s okay,” you said tightly, a thin and unkind smile edging at your lips as you pulled your arm from his grasp and let Dottore lead you out to the large, empty floor in the center of the room, all eyes on the two of you.

Your chest constricted as the Doctor pulled you just a bit closer than the acceptable dancing distance as the two of you found a place on the tiled floor—one hand sliding behind you, fingers dipping low to the small of your back, while the fingers of his other hand intertwined with yours, a more intimate version of the palm-to-palm expected in the Snezhnayan Waltz.

You thought you should feel different. You thought that your chest should be light and you thought your heart should be skipping beats, adoring and enthralled, lost in the moment of finally meeting him… but all you could muster was a sense of dread. This man had never cared for you before—not to meet you, not to get to know you, not even to give into your childish desire to play the tugging game with him. In his eyes, you had probably forced his hand by coming here, even if it hadn’t been your intention.

“What game are you playing?” he asked, voice cold and unfriendly, but you were barely paying attention to him now, gaze wandering as other pairs began to make their way to the floor at the sight of you and Dottore, the necessary signal they needed to know it was now acceptable to dance. “Dance with me.”

“I am,” you replied, your surroundings blurring again as you focused back on him. “I’m not playing games.”

You were sure that the smile on his lips would not have met his eyes were they visible. “Yet you are here,” Dottore replied, the ensemble getting louder and the chatter across the floor masking your conversation from unwanted ears. “Somehow managing to track me down so you can force me into acknowledging you.”

You couldn’t bite back the scoff that rose to your chest. “How self important,” you said coolly. “Do you really think I have any interest in meeting you after all the years you spent ignoring me?”

You did, you corrected yourself silently, but he didn’t have to know that. It was humiliating enough to admit to yourself that even after all of the blatant neglect and lack of interest, you still had longed for meeting him, no matter how far down you might’ve pushed that desire.

His lip twitched—the only physical reaction you managed to draw from him thus far but even then, you couldn’t tell if he was irritated or surprised. “Then why are you here?” he asked and for a moment, you regretted your quick tongue. You should have gone along with the lovesick soulmate act so that you would have an excuse as to why you had come to Snezhnaya but you were more focused on your pride than your mission.

Now, you fumbled—a damning mistake—as you said: “None of your business.”

“Ah, but alas it is my business,” Dottore did not fumble like you did, an empty smile painted on his lips as he watched you from beneath the mask. You felt uncomfortable, you didn’t like not being able to see people’s eyes when you spoke to them. “You see, I was sent to figure out why you are here and if your answer is not to my liking, I am meant to… dispose of you. Now, if you would like me to help you, I suggest you answer my question.”

You took in a sharp breath—one that you couldn’t quite hide from him as you realized that you had been wrong. You had hoped that the eyes you had felt on you earlier were just him, that he had been the one to recognize you, but this confirmed that was not the case. The other Harbingers knew who you were and suddenly, the room felt all the more suffocating.

Dottore leaned down, lips brushing your ear and breath warm against your skin. “Don’t you feel their eyes on you?” he murmured. “They’re waiting for my decision, I do implore you to start speaking.”

He leaned back just a bit but now you couldn’t keep your eyes trained on his face, too aware of all of the gazes set on you. You could feel Artem’s eyes heavy on you from the other side of the room, they hadn’t left your body once since Dottore had led you to the dancefloor, following the two of you as you spun across the floor in step with the other partners, but he wasn’t the only one.

Your eyes flickered behind Dottore to where the dark haired girl dressed in white was sitting at the piano, fingers flying across the keys as she played an eerie tune that didn’t quite match the tempo or energy of the Snezhnayan Waltz—the lace over her eyes blocked them from sight but her head was turned in the direction of the two of you. A taller woman with silvery hair leaned on the instrument next to her, blatantly watching the two of you.

There were too many eyes on you—even who you could assume were newly promoted Fatui captains were glancing your way, the other pairs on the dancefloor kept sparing looks in your direction, giving you a wide berth. You thought you were used to the feeling of being watched, after all in Fontaine, you couldn’t even step outside your quarters without the eyes of justice bearing down on you.

Dottore suddenly cleared his throat, forcing your attention back to him. “Is it not common courtesy to give your dancing partner your full attention?” he drawled.

“Clearly you’re undeserving of my attention considering you can’t even hold it,” your tongue lashed before you could think. Instead of regretting your words, you doubled down. “It appears you’re not fond of being ignored, how fascinating.”

How hypocritical, you didn’t have to speak what you meant for him to understand. Dottore let out a huff of amusement but you knew very well that he was not amused if the way his hand tensed on the small of your back had anything to say about it.

“How ungrateful,” Dottore said quietly, the empty smile on his lips not faltering for even a second, “even when I’m going out of my way to try to make sure you stay alive.”

“We both know that you only want me alive for your own sake,” you countered, taking a small leap in speculation. You knew he didn’t care for you but the consequences of losing a soulmate could range from dire to lethal, if you knew anything about him, you knew that was not something he would want to risk.

“Clearly I did not ignore you well enough.”

The smile finally fell—he didn’t like that you could read him the way that you were, although you would argue that you weren’t reading him at all, just placing together the few puzzle pieces he had left for you to complete a small section, the majority of the puzzle was still empty.

“You-” you began, but you were forced to cut yourself off, eyes darting down as you realized that Dottore had purposefully taken a wrong step in the waltz—subtle enough so that others wouldn’t notice his fault, but just enough so that if you took the correct step, you would twist your ankle over his foot.

He’s trying to make a fool out of you, fury flooded you at the realization, shifting your foot just to the right so that you could avoid his. The next step of the dance, a half-spin of a turn, was jerky and sharp because of it, veering off track and into the path of a nearby woman and her partner, who were forced to scramble out of your way or risk drawing the Doctor’s ire.

Dottore’s lip twitched up when he realized that you hadn’t fallen for his trick and the waltz continued smoothly, returning to the graceful spins and turns and steps that the two of you had been dancing in tune with before his attempt at making you humiliate yourself.

“I’ve been patient enough,” he said. “It’s time for you to answer my question.”

Your lip curled in annoyance, searching for an answer to give him before your silence became prolonged and suspicious.

“I’m looking for something,” you said simply. This time, you didn’t have to look down to know he had taken another false step—instead of having to shift at the last second and fall into another jarring turn, you altered the direction of the turn, spinning out just a bit further than was expected of the dance and forcing him to follow.

“For what?” Dottore didn’t give you a second to recuperate or think and you forced yourself not to bite the inside of your cheek, irritated at the game he was playing no matter how much he might deny playing one should you ask. He was forcing you to focus more on the dance with his purposefully wrong steps so you couldn’t concentrate on coming up with coherent lies.

For what? That was the question. What should you tell him? The truth? What would he do with it? Could you trust him? You doubted it, but you could trust in his self-preservation at least—you didn’t think he would do anything to damn you because that would mean damning himself. But would he get in your way? Maybe, if only to see you stumble.

Finally, you spoke, and the words felt weighted on your tongue, mouth dry: “The Fatui killed my father.”

“And you’ve come for evidence. How noble,” Dottore mocked you—if he hated how you could deduce that he didn’t care for your survival beyond for his own sake, you hated even more that he had put together your whole reason for being in Snezhnaya just from the one sentence. “The Hydro Archon is so arrogant that she fails to see foreign threats within her own walls, forcing you to venture into a den of wolves to acquire the proof yourself. What a magnificent god.”

Again, you found sharp words leaving your lips in defense of your nation and Archon: “Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats,” you noted off-handedly at the hypocrisy, dancing around another targeted step and forcing another pair of dancers to dodge the two of you—the Hydro Archon might be blind the Snezhnayan spy that was your stepfather, but at least there wasn’t an entire organization working beneath her nose and in her court.

“What exactly does that mean?” Dottore asked—was that confirmation that the Harbingers were unaware of the masked group that had approached you and the aristocrats? Or was it just Dottore trying to figure out how much you knew? Or maybe it was both.

“Take it as you will,” you answered, eyes narrowing as instead of continuing the dance, he came to a stop in the middle of the floor.

His hand was still pressed to your lower back, holding your body close to his even as you tried to step away. You hated how you had to turn your head up to look at him and you hated the smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at you. Distantly, you noticed that the music had come to an end as the ensemble prepared for another dance.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said after a moment of silence, releasing your hand only to bring his to your face when you looked away. He used two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head up in his direction, forcing you to look at him. “I’ll find you again.”

A promise or a threat? You couldn’t tell, throat thick and swollen as he stood straight again, stepping away from you and looking behind you. You looked over your shoulder, eyes falling upon Artem as he walked up to the two of you.

“Your second dance?” he asked quietly, holding his hand out toward you. You took the escape gratefully and yet somehow, a part of you felt empty as soon as you stepped away from Dottore, a primal and fundamental part of you knew you were meant to be with him and was unhappy with your decision.

You wondered if he felt it too.

“Are you okay?” Artem questioned as soon as your hand was in his and you stood in position for the next dance—an acceptable distance, unlike how close Dottore had drawn you in.

You glanced back to look at him as you murmured out a ‘yes’ to Artem, but he was already gone.

His hands were tingling.

This wasn't right, he wanted to spit out in protest of the way his body was reacting to you—itching to walk back over and rip you away from the Snezhnayan aristocrat who had the audacity to lay hands on what was his.

His. The word echoed through his head, condemning—he was already beginning thinking like them, like a mortal, an irrational beast that cared for naught but personal pleasure, latching onto someone with the barest interaction. But no matter how much he tried to deny the attachment, his body was betraying him, begging him to turn back for another dance so he could feel your skin against his again.

He thought it might be different, he had abandoned his original body for an artificial one. He thought it could lessen the effects of the bond but he should’ve known better—having an artificial body did not change the fact that his mark had appeared on him, it didn’t change the fact that there was a thread connecting him to you.

He should’ve known this would only make it worse.

Dottore didn’t dare look back, no matter how much his body ached for one last look, he needed to retain some semblance of control over himself and he knew that if he looked back now, he would not like what he saw. His teeth ground together at the thought, scraping against his tongue. He imagined the aristocrat’s hand inching down your back, his fingers intertwined with yours. He imagined your body pressed close to his—a slower song was playing, a more intimate one, one that he should be dancing with you to.

As soon as the final thought crossed his mind, he nearly rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he made his way toward the other Harbingers.

“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” one said, voice cold and mocking, Dottore’s eyes lifted to Arlecchino.

“Thoroughly,” Dottore replied, dry and sarcastic to mask the fact that yes, he had enjoyed his dance with you.

You were not what he expected. Your tongue was sharp and violent whereas he had thought you to be a docile noble girl, sheltered in the palace of Fontaine City. He could still see that part of you, thinly veiled behind the anger in your eyes; the part of you that longed for the sanctity of the bond between a fated pair, the part of you that still had hope things could work out. He wondered if that was the part of you that you showed to everyone else, the gentleness and the kindness. He thought so, if the way you looked at Artem Melnyk had anything to say about it.

Then, he wondered if your violence was reserved only for him—for some reason, the thought left him pleased, smothering the way the corner of his lips twitched up.

“Well?” Sandrone said sharply, garnering the attention of the Harbingers in the area. To Dottore’s absolute displeasure, he noticed that both the Balladeer and the Friar had come closer to listen in, two wolves drawn in by the scent of blood.

You could keep up with him too, every attempt he had made to make you stumble, you caught and readjusted. He had never met anyone that could keep up with him the way you were able to—most didn’t even dare to try, backing down at the mere sight of him, and those that did tended to not be able to hold their bravado for long—even if it was just boldness because you knew that as your soulmate, it’d be unlikely he would do anything to put you at risk.

“A fawn,” Dottore told her coolly, “just as I said. You wasted my time, and my patience. You can explain to the Jester why I decided to leave the event early.”

Dottore thought you were closer to a wolf pup than a fawn, bearing your teeth against greater predators instead of fleeing because you thought yourself more dangerous than you really were—he wasn’t going to tell them that though.

Sandrone did not look convinced at his words. “Perhaps I should go talk to her,” she said doubtfully.

Unamused, Dottore turned his full attention onto her. “You doubt me?” he asked, an edge to his tone that he dared her to push further. Sandrone looked at him but didn’t respond, he continued: “All she cared for was her first dance with her fiancé being interrupted. Air-headed and dimwitted—whatever you think that girl is, she is not.”

Dottore studied Sandrone from beneath his mask, wondering if she would push even further, but she only shook her head and walked away in the direction of the Captain, clearly unhappy but dropping it, for now at least.

Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats, your words ran through his head again as Sandrone pushed past him. What did you mean? It was a dig at the Tsaritsa, that much was certain but what threat was the Fatui missing that was within their own walls? Could it be the aristocrats? If so, you were a fool to think that they weren’t addressing the more hostile families already… but somehow, Dottore knew that you were talking about something else, something far more worrisome.

… and that begged the question of how you even knew of it when they, clearly, did not.

Finally, Dottore’s gaze drew back to the dance floor where you were dancing slowly with the dark-haired aristocrat, arms draped around his shoulders as you swayed to the slow music. You were talking quietly to him, hushed, heads leaned into each other so no one could overhear the two of you. You looked far more at ease with him than you had been with Dottore, your shoulders lax instead of tense, your body loose instead of stiff. That feeling from before—ugly and green—resurfaced.

“Sandrone,” Dottore finally said, stopping the lower-ranked Harbinger in her tracks, “if you’re so suspicious of her, then why don’t we keep her in the palace for a few days under observation? That way, we can figure out whether or not Fontaine is declaring war or not and handle it duly.”

A risk, Dottore noted, they’re going to wonder why he cares so much, but he thought it was a worthy one. He could knock two birds with one stone: separate his soulmate from her apparent fiancé and try to figure out what the cryptic comment meant. He couldn’t help but notice the long look exchanged by Arlecchino and Brighella, as if they knew something that he did not.

Sandrone hesitated, eyes narrowing for a moment before she nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“And who, exactly, is going to care for this girl?” Brighella, voice high and reedy, interjected himself into the conversation. “Heh… if you’d like-”

“I’ll do it,” another voice interrupted as fury knotted Dottore’s insides so intensely that he thought he might lash out at the vulture. Pantalone was the one to step forward, eyes turned upward and a thin smile pulled tight across his lips, “I’d like to pick at her brains for her thoughts on the aristocrats anyway. I’m sure she’ll have some sort of insight.”

Dottore watched Pantalone carefully, trying to figure out what sort of game he was playing. He made sure that she wasn’t killed on the spot before—not that Dottore would have let that happen, but he would’ve been forced to reveal who exactly you were to him and he didn’t want to open up that weakness. He wanted something and from the way his smile fell and his violet eyes went cold, looking at Dottore as the Harbingers began talking amongst each other, he knew it was nothing good.

Irritated, Dottore cast a cold look in your direction—one way or another, he was constantly being backed into a corner because of you. But looking at you was a mistake, evidently, because the annoyance swelled as he watched the aristocrat smile at you as you swooped under his arm in a dramatic spin.

Dottore shook his head as he looked away, rolling his eyes beneath his mask as he stifled the vile emotions rearing their head at the sight. As he turned his attention back to the discussion at hand, listening to them talk about the approaching missions, Dottore wondered if he should try to make his exit now, leave Pantalone to deal with her now that he had kindly offered to—the less interaction with her, the better, he thought, even though his body shrieked in protest—and he wanted to get back to the lab anyway. The Theta segment was down there alone and quite frankly, he didn’t trust him around his stuff.

Alas, he did not get the chance to slip away. As he moved to turn, he noticed that Pantalone was nodding for him to follow.

Dottore bit back a sigh—you, Pantalone, the other Harbingers—this was all going to cut into his research, he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get anything done for quite a bit.

“What was that all about?” Artem asked you quietly as the music began to pick up again, masking your voices—it was a slower dance, one that was far less demanding than the waltz with the Doctor, who had you struggling to keep up mentally and physically.

You were lucky that Miss Elyna had been so strict with your dancing lessons, not only did she prepare you by teaching you all of the popular dances amongst aristocrats across the seven nations but she also forced you to know how to dance with an incompetent partner so that the you were not made to look like a fool in public.

Dottore was not an incompetent partner by any means, but he surely was a malicious one.

“They’re suspicious of me,” you said softly, watching his expression twist into one that bordered between shocked and horrified, confirming what you already knew—you were not in a good place.

But he didn’t know that you weren’t in the worst place, you couldn’t tell him about your relationship to Dottore. You didn’t know how he would react and you needed him on your side for the duration of this event. You figured that Dottore wouldn’t let them kill you, at least for his own sake, but there were fates worse than death and the thought of that made your skin crawl.

“After this song, we’ll head over to my father, I’ll ask him what to do,” Artem said, nodding to himself. “They can’t do anything, not without risking our support and our support is the only support they have amongst all of the Snezhnayan nobles. So unless they want every single aristocratic family against them…”

Your eyes drew across the room briefly, at the captains and the elite members of the Fatui lingering around the floor and dancing with their partners, at the Harbingers still lurking on the outskirts of the room, some still looking in your direction. There were so many of them and you didn’t have to face them in combat to know that they were all strong, the Harbingers alone reeked of power.

“... if you tell your father, he’ll be upset,” you finally said, voice low—you hadn’t phrased it as a question but you supposed it was one.

“He’ll be livid,” Artem confirmed, jaw tightening. “They… they all think that I’m going to propose to you soon—they were upset that I hadn’t introduced you sooner but they’ve been waiting for me to get married for three years now. If the Fatui try to do something to you…”

Maybe you shouldn’t say anything then, you wanted to say, but the words were stuck in your mouth. The Fatui were strong, you thought again. Artem had claimed that they host these events as a show of power, to force the aristocrats to understand just who they were dealing with, and even from this glimpse you knew that the threat the Fatui posed was beyond anything that the elites of the Fontaine court and the Hydro Archon imagined.

You wondered, then, why did they not take control of Snezhnaya through sheer force alone? They could do it, surely, the Harbingers themselves could probably handle it on their own. You figured that the aristocrats held a lot of sway amongst the common people—if it was anything like the structure of the Fontaine countryside where each town was centered around one of the aristocrats' estates—and from there, you could assume that the Fatui did not want to rule their own people through fear.

But you feared that if push came to shove, the Fatui would have no issue slamming their iron fist down upon the people of Snezhnaya and if that was the case, you didn’t want that blood on your hands because Artem had rushed to the defense of a girl he barely knows… especially because you thought if he knew who exactly your soulmate was, he wouldn’t be so quick to help you.

“Don’t tell them,” you finally said, mouth dry, glancing away as you continued, “whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. Don’t risk pissing the Fatui off even more.”

Artem’s brows knit together. “What?” he asked, voice hushed. “You have no idea what they’re capable of, what they’ll do to you and if the Doctor of all Harbingers is interested in you then-”

“I’m not a helpless girl, Artem,” you said sharply, careful to keep your voice low. “I will do what I must to survive, you need to focus on…”

Your family, the other nobles, this organization that’s pulling all of the strings. Let me deal with this, it’s my mission.

Artem didn’t look happy, shaking his head again. “I didn’t say you were helpless,” he said, lowering his voice even more as he leaned his head down to you. To all others, you thought it probably looked romantic, but you could feel his arms tense around you, “but you can’t do this alone. They’ll find you out and-and you don’t want to know what they’ll do when they do.”

There was a haunted expression on his face, as if he had personal experience with the Fatui and what they would do to the people that actively worked against them. There was a pit in your stomach as you looked away—guilt, anxiety, maybe something else or a combination of both, knowing who your soulmate was and how even though Artem was terrified of him, he still was trying to defend you against him.

“I need to use the restroom to freshen up,” you said, changing the subject abruptly—you didn’t want to talk about this anymore, if the Fatui were already onto you, you were running out of time to do what you needed to do.

You didn’t want to rely on Dottore, not if you didn’t have to.

Artem stared at you for a long moment before sighing, arm slipping around your waist as he guided you back to the front of the room toward the wide double doors that led to the entrance hall, “There’s only two ways in and out of here, the only other way…”

You glanced backward to another door on the opposite side of the room—the only way to get to it would be to walk past several Harbingers and that was simply not going to happen, not when a few of them were clearly suspicious of you already. You could only hope that they missed you slipping out of the hall but somehow, you doubted they would.

Reaching the doors, you raised your eyebrows when neither of the Fatui subordinates moved out of your way. Artem stepped forward, slightly in front of you.

“Is there an issue?” Artem asked coldly, motioning to the door. “Are the hinges not working properly? They seemed just fine before. My lady needs to freshen up.”

The two men exchanged a long look with one another before shifting out of the way, albeit a bit reluctantly. You looked back at Artem, squeezing his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

And if I’m not, don’t come looking.

“They’re a lovely couple, hm?” Pantalone smiled as the two of them walked the length of the ballroom. Dottore’s jaw clenched, irritation skyrocketing when he continued, “They look very happy together, don’t they?”

“Very,” Dottore agreed dryly, not letting the man get a rise out of him like he wanted, but unlike Pantalone, he did not look in your direction.

Instead, he kept his gaze trained forward, mind-racing as he tried to figure out what Pantalone might want from him. If he had to guess, it was going to be something with the residue research and creating a stronger delusion for him but the man was as unpredictable as the wind—there was no telling what demands would spew from his mouth.

“Do you think that’s why she was ignoring you?” Pantalone asked, trying to gossip like a pair of old wives as if they weren’t talking about his soulmate. “She finally found someone better and doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

Dottore didn’t think that was the case. He finally looked back over to where you were dancing with the aristocrat. You looked comfortable with him, but not happy, and you looked safe with him, but not hopeful—not the way you had been with him, at least. You had been tense and stressed but there was no denying that lingering hope that swam behind your eyes, as much as you tried to hide it with your sharp tongue and harsh jabs.

Dottore had never been able to read people well—he compensated with intimidation—but it came naturally when looking at you, probably because of the bond. He didn’t know whether or not to be appreciative of it or to resent it because you could clearly read him as well as he could read you and the thought of that left him uncomfortable.

“No,” Dottore finally said after a few moments of silence. “I think she was ignoring me to be petty.”

It appears you’re not fond of being ignored. How fascinating.

He had recognized the underlying message, calling him a hypocrite—he wouldn’t put it past you to have spent the past two weeks ignoring him after he finally reached out to you just to be spiteful.

“Not quite the air-headed and dimwitted fawn you described to the others then,” Pantalone drawled, smile widening as he finally looked at Dottore. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t say anything… but there’s no way the others will fall for the facade once they realize who she is to you. Anyone fated to you is bound to be closer to monster than man.”

That was unacceptable. His chest tightened at his words, a foul feeling swirling his insides. It was not about the implied insult to him, nor was it about the subtle threat of the other Harbingers finding out who you were to him—it was the insult to you, the mocking comment Pantalone made calling you closer to monster than man. That was not acceptable.

And then he realized what he was doing, getting defensive over you for no reason at all. Careful, he told himself, this was what he hadn’t wanted.

He pushed it away, again, focusing on the issue at hand.

“Was she everything you hoped?” Pantalone pressed, a sardonic smile twisting his lips as he watched you.

More, Dottore answered silently. You were beyond anything he had imagined, but he kept his answer to himself, “What do you want, Regrator?”

“Fair exchange,” Pantalone spoke of the policy he had lived by since the day Dottore met him and Dottore knew that he wasn’t going to like this. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of it, that thin thread of control waning as it always did when he got the upperhand on someone. “I am owed. Our previous exchange has been fulfilled—you brought me into the Fatui and helped me obtain my position, I gave you better funding and support in meetings. This is the start of a new exchange. Twice now, I’ve protected her and now, I’ve brought her in so that you weren’t exposed. I am owed.”

“What do you want?” Dottore repeated again, unperturbed by Pantalone’s demeanor, wanting to get this conversation over with. “The residue research? One of my segments to help with your missions?”

“The prototype for the new delusion,” Pantalone said. Dottore raised his eyebrows—it’s a prototype for a reason, on his lips but he decided against it. If the Regrator wanted to use the prototype, all the better for Dottore: he would be able to study how he reacts to it, and how it reacts to him. “And a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine City.”

Dottore tilted his head, “How exactly do you expect me to help with that? Just take one of the segments and tell them what to do.”

Pantalone smiled again but this time, it was colder—the same smile he directed at the other Harbingers when they pissed him off. His head turned in the direction of where you were dancing with the aristocrat and then he asked, voice amused: “You didn’t think I was helping her for your sake, did you?”

There it is.

Dottore stared at Pantalone emptily from beneath his mask. He had expected this from the moment he had initially offered his help in finding you, he knew there would be a catch but he did not think it would have to do with you.

A branch of the Northland Bank set up in Fontaine City. What would that entail from you? Information on the court that only the upper echelon of aristocrats would know? Weaknesses and holes in their defenses? Either way, it would entail betraying your nation and he had a feeling you wouldn’t do that… which meant he would somehow have to get the information from you to pass it on to Pantalone, which meant he would have to betray you. For some reason, the thought left him feeling uneasy.

“Very well,” he agreed. “Consider it done.”

Pleased, Pantalone looked back out to the ballroom floor.

“Oh?” he noted. “She’s on the move.”

Dottore’s head snapped to the side, eyes searching the floor until they landed on where the aristocrat was leading you through the hall and to the entrance of the room.

What were you doing? He had a bad feeling, exhaling as he waited. Were you really going to go out and try to find the evidence you wanted now? Right after he had told you that the Harbingers have their eye on you? You couldn’t be that stupid… unless you were trying to rush to do it before he could get involved but that would be ridiculous.

Dottore’s eyes followed you until the doors of the ballroom shut behind you and you were gone from sight. He didn’t bother explaining to Pantalone where he was going, turning on his heel and made his way to the door on the opposite side of the room, closer to where he and Pantalone were standing.

The Fatui subordinates scattered at his approach, allowing an easy exit for him. Pantalone followed, much to his distaste, but he supposed this way it didn’t look as suspicious. As soon as he pushed the door open, a rush of cold air met him—a welcome escape from the stuffiness of the ballroom and the endless chatter of the aristocrats and the music and all of the overwhelming noise.

The hall was dimly lit by candles mounted on the walls, there was no one in the hall besides them—Dottore assumed that you had turned down the hall on the right instead, heading to the washroom.

Was that what you were doing? Faking going to the washroom so you could slip away and search? Why weren’t their subordinates lining the halls to make sure people couldn’t do that?

“Are you going after her?” Pantalone asked, amused, slinking up beside him. Dottore gave him a cold look from the corner of his eye. “Relax, I won’t interfere.”

Dottore wasn’t sure how much he believed that but he didn’t have time to call him out for it. He wanted to get to you before you did something stupid. He gave Pantalone one last look before making his way down the hall in the direction of the washroom, turning left down two different halls until he was on the opposite side of the ballroom—just as he came to a stop outside of the door, it opened.

“There you are.”

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

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domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #there’s no unique reason I chose crossiants #just sounded fun 🌝#when the post nut clarity so strong you gotta bake your girl some goods #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #don’t hate me

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jedimaesteryoda · 1 month

Text

One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #tyrion lannister #house lannister #house targaryen #meereen #queen cersei #cersei

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delfiore · 7 months

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY (5/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: barcelona sets its sights on the champions league; things between you and ona unfold in the way they were always going to.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: LAST PART LAST PART WOOOO ALSO THIS GIF IS KILLING ME

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV

Barcelona won its first game back from winter break. It wasn’t the first one this season, but everyone was glad the team managed to hold onto the momentum over break. Though you didn’t score, you felt like you started to understand how to pass, how to move, how to bring the ball forward effectively the Barça way.

Things were finally starting to look up for you at your new club.

In training one day, you were paired up with Aitana for a short passing drill, and she quickly took the opportunity to inquire about you and Ona.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“¿¡Por qué no?!” Aitana exclaimed, earning a few turns of heads from several teammates around. “I was the one to tell you to say something, no?”

You blew raspberry and looked down at the ball rolling between your feet. In truth, you haven’t talked to Ona about that night. Unlike the last time, though, there wasn’t an air of animosity around it. You wanted to kiss her really badly, but you also knew starting something then wasn’t the best idea. You and her both needed to concentrate on getting the team through this slump, and it was more crucial than ever that you did.

“You make it really hard for me, you know that?” You had told her, a quiet confession.

You remembered her smiling. “You don’t make it easy for me either. Every time I see you, I try so hard not to pull you to me and kiss you.”

You chuckled and dropped your head, hiding the warmth creeping up your neck. “Well, try harder.” You brushed her nose with the tip of your finger and stood up. “Our team needs us. We can’t . . . be distracted.”

“Can’t we be selfish just once?” Her tone was light and teasing, but when she leaned back against the bed, there was a darker sincerity in her eyes. Her elbows supported her weight, as her toned legs dangled off the bed. You had almost scoffed at how good she looked, and how much you wanted to pounce on her.

Swiftly, you snatched a pillow and threw it at her, earning an offended gasp from the girl. You watched her face shift, then, when you leaned down and kissed her cheek. Pulling back, you smirked. “Happy?”

Grabbing your pajamas which were draped over a chair, you quickly got out of the room and headed to the shower where, under the running water, you repeatedly told yourself to snap out of it. That night, you still fell asleep in the same bed as her. In the morning, your head was nuzzled in her neck, and your arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

You asked how long she had been staring at you, watching you sleep. Ona couldn’t resist a smirk, telling you she didn’t want to wake you up.

You had hoped she couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating, but then again your chest was pressed into her side. You felt the overwhelming urge to pull away, alarm bells ringing in your head to sober up from your slumber and pull away. You were controlled by an invisible fear. In all of your nightly interactions with the many people that have warmed your bed, you had never felt so vulnerable than in that moment before, or since.

You could see her freckles so clearly from here. There were plenty, like a constellation of stars, but the only difference was you would lay there and count each and every one of them. Slowly, you brushed the pad of your thumb over them, and she let you, closing her eyes.

“Stardust,” you whispered quietly, feeling her skin under your finger.

Ona’s heart burned like a thousand fires watching you as you admired her, three heavy words weighing down on the tip of her tongue.

They went unsaid when you got up to go brush your teeth, over the table at breakfast, when her mom hugged you both goodbye and even when she dropped you off at your place a few hours later.

The team was playing away in Valencia on Saturday night. Right after that, on Wednesday, you would be playing the second Champions League quarterfinal leg in London. It was going to be a stressful week, but you needed to get your head in it because this week would determine the rest of the season in the league and in the prestigious European competition.

When Valencia led 1-0 at halftime, the more the clock ran out the more the team was desperate to win, or at least get a point back.

Alexia was holding the ball, as everyone moved over to Valencia’s side of the pitch; the latter was now only concerned with defending their three points. You waited for the defenders around to get distracted and made a run for it. Fridolina received the ball and fed it to you, but the angle was too narrow and the ball bounced off the net.

Chances were coming, and you were getting much closer to an equalizer.

A corner ensued, and you were at the near-post. The ball was sent in straight towards the goalkeeper, but you thought you could manage it. The goalkeeper was beelining for the ball and headed straight towards you with her fists out ready to punch the ball away, but you were faster. 1-1.

The adrenaline rushed to your head as you ran to celebrate with your teammates.

Only when the ball was rolling again did you feel lightheaded, and were on the ground before you knew it. The referee’s whistle rang out, and several of her teammates rushed over to you, as did Ona.

She saw the way your steps slowed as you were walking back to the middle, your head hung low. The way you fell to the ground, Ona could only compare it to a jet running out of fuel and free-falling. It was as if your legs gave out under you.

“Y/N? Joder, Y/N. Fisio!” She knelt beside you, yelling to the sidelines.

Thankfully, you were able to move, turning to your side, and hiding your face in the grass.

“It’s okay, Y/N. They’re coming,” Ona breathed heavily and squeezed your shoulder.

You have had collisions that knocked the air out of you before, but this time you knew it was much more severe than that. You suddenly didn’t quite know where you were, or why all these people were gathering around and peering down at you. All you knew was there was one face that made it all okay, one that you reached for and never wanted to let go.

There were physios coming to check the reflexes in your eyes; you were fine, it was just really, really bright. You were helped to sit up, seeing stars as you did, like cartoon characters when they suffer concussions. You looked over to that beautiful face, the one that appeared in your dreams like a plague, and you were okay. Though you didn’t know what was happening, Ona made you feel brave.

You regained clearheadedness after a few minutes, the symptoms had seemingly subsided. You signaled that you could continue (you really thought you could) but Esmee was already getting ready on the sideline to come in for you.

“Y/N, you did well today,” Ona approached you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “You were brilliant. We’ll take care of this.”

She said and gave you a kiss on the side of your head before sending you off with a pat on your back. You smiled gracefully at her and walked towards the bench. The unheard of happened then, as you made out applause ringing out from the Barcelona section of the stands, as people stood out and whistled for you.

You spent the rest of the game in the dressing room, watching the game from a TV. The lights had been dimmed for you to lessen the side effects of the concussion. When the rest of the team returned victorious, you cracked a smile. Your teammates surrounded you to check on your well-being, one in particular was the quickest to sit next to you.

“They clapped for me when I came off,” you said with a smile. “The fans.”

“Yes, they did,” Ona grasped your hand. “Because you deserved it.”

Barcelona came back from a deficit to win 3-2, earning a crucial three points in the title race.

“Arsenal is a very different team now than when we met them last, girls,” Jonatan stood at the front of the conference room. He played the next clip. “The one thing we’ll have to keep in mind is that they prefer passing and progressive carrying. They’ll have holding midfielders that will transition the formation from defending to attacking, so Williamson, Little, Wälti. Whoever that pivot player ends up being, if we cut her off on the high press, we cut off the supply going forward.”

As Coach was explaining tactics, you quietly turned around toward where Ona was sitting. The moment her gaze landed on you, the corner of her lips lifted. You mirrored her smile, and looked back at the projector, pulling your hoodie up past your lips to hide your cheeks heating up.

After the briefing, you walked towards the dining room to have lunch when your phone buzzed with a notification. You had just received an Instagram DM from an account that you hadn’t looked at in a long time, mainly because there would be nothing to see, as you were blocked.

Hi! I heard you’ll be in town this week for a game. Any chance we could go grab a coffee and chat? Sent 11:04am

“Hey, you coming to lunch?” Ona asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second,” you said quickly and typed a reply.

On Tuesday, a couple of hours after you landed in London, you made your way towards the little café the address of which you had been sent. Just before entering the coffee shop, you exhaled sharply and wiped your palms on your pants before pulling the door open. Leena was already seated at a table, a cup in front of her.

“Hey,” you hugged her. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Y/N,” she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed you tightly. “You look good.”

You let out a snort. “Yeah, Barcelona tends to do that to ya.”

You sat on the opposite side of the table, after going to order a small coffee.

“I heard you got a concussion last game,” Leena asked, concerned.

“Oh, that.” You waved it off. “I’m fine. I’ve seen better days, but it’s all a part of it. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good,” Leena smiled. “I . . . I had to step away to . . . put things into perspective.”

You nodded slowly and sighed. “Leena, the way I handled things, I’m just so deeply ashamed of it. I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I should have known better than to pursue someone who isn’t ready yet. I tend to do that.”

“Still, I mean . . . That’s not who I am, and I never meant to hurt you or lead you on like that.”

Quickly leaning forward to grasp your hand, she whispered, “It’s okay”. You nodded and smiled gratefully. Leena never made you feel less than whenever you bore your emotions to her, and it was no exception this time.

You started chatting about work, learning that Leena wanted to go back to school for a master’s in cinematography. You told her about your new club, and how much harder it was to live up to expectations than you thought. By the end of your little meeting, you had told her pretty much everything that was going on within the past year.

You said goodbye about an hour later, but not before asking if she wanted to come to the game the following night. “Sure,” she said. “Should be fun.”

Leaving the café with a smile, you called an Uber back to your hotel just in time for dinner with the team, where Ona was already waiting for you in the lobby.

“Hey,” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” The girl quickly ascended from her seat on the couch. “I texted but you didn’t answer, so I got worried.”

“Oh,” you pulled out your phone to see said unread messages from Ona. “I’m sorry. I was meeting up with a friend, and I usually put my phone on silent for stuff like that.”

“I see,” Ona chewed on her lower lip. “Well, it’s dinner time. Come.”

As you walked, you looked down at your joined hands that she nonchalantly initiated, and blushed. You ignored the knowing look a couple of your teammates sent your way when you walked into the hotel dining room.

“Hey, good luck out there today,” you found Ona in the dressing room before the game, and decided to offer your support.

“Thanks. Are you cleared to play today?”

“Yeah, later though. Just to be sure,” you explained.

Though you were cleared by the physios to travel to London with the team, Jonatan wanted to be sure that you weren’t overexerting yourself by playing the 90 minutes, but you were assured that you would be subbed on in the second half.

Ona nodded tentatively. “Hey, Y/N. I just wanted to say—“

“Y/N!”

The voice outside the dressing room made you turn around.

“Leena, hi! You made it!”

Then you were gone, walking out and greeting the woman she saw with you in Ibiza. Ona clenched her jaw, listening to your animated conversation in the hallway, not she had no right to infringe upon your other relationships. But she didn’t know where you stood with Leena, nor where she stood with you, and it made her nervous.

She had spent the last few months trying to make you feel her love, hoping that you would answer her and give her your heart.

You were you, though, and maybe she would never be enough to make you commit. She had messed it up before, and while you had forgiven her, you had made no effort to progress past a friendship.

She had been ready to take on Arsenal mere minutes before, now she felt dejected and beyond embarrassed.

It was an easy win for Barcelona. You managed to score again, a screamer from outside the box, and the fans went wild for your seemingly return to form.

After the game walked towards where Ona was near the stands, greeting fans, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Nice work today,” you said.

Ona only glanced at you shortly with a small smile before turning back to the fans to sign their shirts.

Your smile faded for a split second, but it returned when Leena approached you. You didn’t realize Ona was sneaking glares at the back of your head, wishing you would just notice how desperate she was to get you alone.

That night, you were back in the hotel room you shared with Patri when you heard a knock at the door.

“Hi,” you couldn’t hide the slight inflection in your voice when you discovered that the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Patri coming back from Claudia’s room where she said she would be, but Ona.

“Hi,” she mumbled, her hands hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping aside to let her in. You caught a whiff of her shampoo as she walked past you, and the comfortable way in which she dressed suddenly made your heart beat wildly.

“Are you feeling well?” You rubbed your hands together nervously, an impending question already burned into the back of your mind. “You were just quiet after the game, and I wasn’t sure whether you’d hurt yourself.”

Ona pulled on her sleeves, and timidly sat at the edge of your bed, swinging her legs back and forth. “Just wanted to come see you,” she shrugged.

You hated not being able to read her, not knowing what she was thinking. You guessed your relationship has always been like that, hiding how you really felt and continuing this façade you both had decided was the only thing that could work.

You didn’t know, but what you knew was you were tired of pretending.

“What are we to each other?” Her question tore you from your thoughts.

Well, that was certainly one way to do it. You were still standing in the middle of the room, unsure of where to go or sit.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” You answered. “We support each other, we have each other’s backs.”

“That girl you were with, are you seeing her?” Her quiet voice, in addition to the slight frown she sported made her so endearing. You hadn’t seen her so open, so vulnerable ever since the night you spent with her after Spain lost out on the Euros. But maybe then you might have missed all the signs.

“No,” you shook your head. “We’re friends. She helped me a lot after everything went down between us.”

She nodded, looking away. You still didn’t know what she was thinking, and it was driving you crazy.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You smirked, wanting to lighten the mood, but the despairing look on her face remained.

Feeling bold, you took a seat next to her on the bed. “What is it, Ona?”

She drew a breath, still refusing to look at you and opting to look at your hands instead. “I don’t want to be just friends.”

You let the silence hang because you weren’t sure if those words actually just left her mouth.

They did, because she followed up, “I want to have you to myself. I want you all the time. Every time I see you, it’s like I can’t function until you talk to me. I don’t know where we stand and it’s honestly tearing me apart. I know I sound clingy and pathetic, but I think I’m in love with you.”

You heard her repeat the last part under her breath, as if affirming to herself, as if finally saying it out loud was the hardest thing to do.

Your heart was hammering in its cage. You held her gaze when she looked up, her eyes were dull and sad and lost, despite having just won a Champions League match.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” You cracked a tiny smile. “Almost five years. That day when we played against each other for the first time in Manchester. I singled you out, I pushed your buttons because I wanted to get your attention from the moment we met. I wanted you to notice me because I liked you.”

You knew it was a selfish thing to do, but it was the only way you knew for sure that her eyes were on you. And on you they were.

Ona perked up, grinning softly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Her pinkie was hooked with yours at your side. “I want to try us. I promise I won’t let you down this time,” she said quietly, and instead of looking away, she held your gaze firmly.

“Okay.” There was nothing else.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and brought your hand up to glide over her cheek lightly.

Her lips parted slightly. You could see the way her chest rose and fell before she lunged at you, cupping your jaw and pressing her lips against yours.

You let out a quiet groan at the sensation of her bruising kiss. You let her do whatever she wanted, even when she shoved you down on the bed and got on top of you, kissing, touching, and feeling everywhere, you let her, because it had been too long.

At some point, you had managed to flip her over, keeping eye contact as you kissed down along her body. She always liked it when you took your time worshipping her as you did now, holding your gaze and encouraging you to keep going. Once in a while, she would throw her head back and mumble breathless profanities in her native tongue, giving you a good look at her defined jawline.

You might have known her body inside and out from the time you spent with her, but this time it felt different. There was love in every tug, every kiss, every look she gave you. You found yourself in a trance and let your body tangle with hers in ways you were too afraid to have done before; afraid it was too affectionate, too intimate, too personal.

By the time you were done, she was whimpering, her eyes closed shut, and her skin was damp and hot to the touch.

Resting your chin on her stomach, you watched her come down. When she finally opened her eyes, it took one look for the both of you to burst out into laughter.

Your laughs died down, and suddenly you felt shy again. As if having read your mind, Ona pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“When we’re back in Barcelona, I’m taking you out on a date,” she whispered.

A couple of hours later, Patri, upon entering the room, decided to grab her charger and return to Claudia and Ona’s room. She found the both of you sound asleep, tangled up in bed together, and decided to leave you be.

“But why do I have to do the press conference? Why can’t Caro or Alexia do it?” You groaned. “No one cares what I have to say.”

“Of course they do,” Toni responded. “Y/N, I might be biased, but you are one of the best players of this half of the season in the team, if not the league. You’re Barcelona’s new gem.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you muttered.

“People will want to hear from you. Plus, it’s good—“

“—publicity, yeah, I know.” You hunched over and adjusted your position on the couch. “Ughhh . . .” You groaned loudly and dragged your hands down your face. “Fine.”

Toni proceeded to run you over things you should say, things you shouldn’t say, things you should absolutely avoid at all costs. You half-listened to the rest of it because you felt the couch dip beside you, and a sneaky hand creeping up and down your back.

You ended the phone call with another sigh. The hand that calmed you proceeded to inch towards your nape, caressing the skin there.

“I thought you liked doing press.”

“No one likes doing press,” you grumbled.

You looked up from your moping and over your shoulder, and the sight of Ona made you smile. She always managed to make you forget about everything wrong in the world, and crave the warmth of her touch. When she wore one of her snuggly hoodies as she did now, the heat under the fabric made her chest and embrace extra warm.

“You’ll do great, hermosa,” she held you close to her, giggling at the feeling of your face buried deep in her neck. “Besides, what is it you always say? ‘All in a day’s work’?”

You grinned and kissed her cheek. “I hate it when you use my shtick against me.”

“No, you love it,” Ona kissed you quickly, but you held her by the collar of her sweatshirt and savored her lips a little longer.

“I was thinking,” you said slowly. “Since you already know the code for the front door, and you’re always here anyway, why don’t you move in?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. For a split second, the silence caused a familiar pang in your heart from all the times she had turned you down. There was a moment when you imagined the worst to happen, that she would run for the hills again and leave you to pick up the pieces by yourself. But it was different this time; the circumstances were different, you both were different.

“No pressure at all. I just—It was just a suggestion—“

“Okay,” she breathed quietly. “But after the season is over.”

You let a wide grin spread across your face. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Ona smiled and tapped your nose lovingly. “Now, come on. I’ll help you practice for your big press conference.”

You groaned and sunk back into the couch, but you knew you would be able to distract her from putting you through this torture if you picked your moments right. There were no more barriers between the two of you, and kisses were expendable.

“Hello, Y/N. My question to you is, ‘How do you judge your opponent coming into this match, and are you confident that you’ll be walking home with your first Champions League after tomorrow?’” “I think that Chelsea is a formidable team, there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind about that. As for if I think we can win; yes, I think so. I’m confident in my teammates’ abilities, and I know that I’ll be giving 110% into tomorrow’s match. So, yes, we are going into this match to win.” “Obviously, you’re surrounded by World Cup finalists at Barça. What is it like playing with some of the more experienced and decorated players on this team in particular?” “It’s a wonderful environment for me as a young professional in this sport, to have that support system in my own club. I enjoy every second that I get to play alongside and learn from my teammates. No matter who it is, finalist or not, I’ve been able to learn from everyone I play with.” “You’ve had an admittedly rocky start to your spell at Barcelona, but have since improved a lot from what we’ve seen in the return leg of the season. Do you think you have fully integrated yourself into the Barça system?” “As a player, I’m very fortunate to have had the club’s, the coach’s, and my teammates’ trust as I familiarized myself with the system. I will say, I’m much more confident in my role at the club now than I was at the start of the season, and I just hope to continue to do well with the team, and we’ll see how it goes.”

All 50,000 spectators of the Estadio José Alvade roused into cheers as the whistle blew. Chelsea got the ball rolling in motion, and, already, some of its finest attackers planted themselves deep into Barcelona’s defense, waiting for their moment to reap their rewards.

It was a long back-and-forth for the next 20 minutes, and both teams were not willing to risk it in the opening minutes of the game. But then a wild attempt by Lauren James from outside the box left the ball unattended after Sandra pushed it out. Sam Kerr did what she always did best, and tapped it in. 0-1.

“Shit,” you muttered, seeing Jonatan shouting to Aitana and Patri to change tactics.

You hoped Chelsea couldn’t pick up on the franticness at which Barcelona picked up the ball again. All four players of the backline were on Chelsea’s side of the pitch, Irene, being the deepest, also just barely skirting above the halfway line.

The possession paid off though, as after a long period of tiki-taka, you found an opening for Mariona, who took the shot and sent it past Zećira Mušović into the net. 1-1.

If you could choose, you would always prefer counterattacks over possession plays, in which you could use your speed and dribble to explode; your opponents always feared it when you did. But possession was how Jonatan wanted the team to play then, and Chelsea must have anticipated that. Ève Périsset won the ball back inside the box and lobbed it across the pitch to Guro Reiten, who made the run far before anyone could catch up to her. Mapi was fast, but at her fastest she was still trailing behind her, watching powerlessly as Guro glided past Sandra coming out and passed the ball into an empty net. 1-2.

You could see some of your teammates’ spirits crumbling. Mapi was cursing under her breath as she hid her face under her shirt.

Your eyes landed on Ona walking back to the halfway line, hyping your teammates up. There was a time when she would be doing to her own teammates after you scored against her. You thought it was selfish of you to feel glad that she was doing it for you now.

“Come on, Y/N,” she clapped her hands a few times. “We got this. We’re almost there.”

She was right, you’ve suffered worse deficits, and you wouldn’t be where you were if you didn’t help your team emerge victorious from them.

The dressing room was still as the night at halftime, only the sound of cleats shuffling and the occasional water bottle caps closing were heard.

You sat in your designated spot, taking deep inhales to catch your breath, slapping your teammates’ hands as they walked in. You low-fived Ingrid before she made her way over to where Mapi sat, her head hanging low in her hand.

The team hadn’t been playing well since the beginning of the match. Maybe it was the underestimation of Chelsea’s abilities or their opening goal that caught everyone off-guard. Whatever it was, the team hasn’t recovered.

“Come on, girls,” Jonatan said in the dressing room. “We’re down by one. One. We’ve come back from worse.”

He proceeded to go over tactics again, this time using the wingers as the main force of attack. Since Chelsea would most likely park the bus now that they were in the lead, he wanted to take initiative and penetrate the defense, only the one thing you were very good at.

Ona sat down next to you, huffing a breath and leaning back against the wall. Her eyes fluttered close, and her cheeks were flushed. You thought about running your hand along her face down her neck were you in private, instead, you squeezed her knees and offered her a smile when she opened her eyes again.

“You okay?” How selfish of her to ask if you were okay when if anything, she was the only person holding this team together at this point. Out of everyone during the first 45 minutes, Ona had done her job to the very best of her abilities, and it was a lifeline to the team.

When it was time to return to the pitch, you walked to her with your heart in your hands. “Ona,” you touched her arm, “I love you.”

Your heart hammered as the corner of her lips pulled up, her brows twitching with a sympathetic look. “I love you too,” she leaned into you, “very much.”

You hoped no one noticed how wide you were smiling too, but you also hoped they did. You wanted to shout it out loud for all 50,000 people in the stadium to hear how much love you had for Ona.

“I wish you had told me that earlier, so I can kiss you,” she said.

“Later,” you grinned. “You can kiss me as much as you want.”

Summer never lasted as long as you wanted it to. Gone were the days of sunny beachside margaritas, and bonfire nights at local bars. Ona had taken you to a secluded spot off the coast of Morocco, and for two weeks straight, it was beach, drinking, the occasional sightseeing, and lots of sex. It was the first time the two of you were able to truly be alone without any distractions after you started seeing each other officially, and you couldn’t be happier that it happened the way it did.

You had been back with the team for a couple of weeks, and as much as you missed your much-needed summer vacation, you missed playing more.

“Behind you! Here, here!”

“Body language, girls! Let’s go!”

You sat on the grass, catching your breath after your first successful practice of the season.

“Getting up any time soon, partner?” You heard Ona call next to you before a water bottle was tossed onto your legs.

You grabbed the bottle and squirted some water onto her legs, but she remained unfazed with that stupid smirk on her face. “Ooh, recreating last night’s activities now, aren’t we? You know it should be more than that.”

You let out a laugh and pulled her down next to you. “Since when do you make the dirty jokes?”

“Since I started spending way too much time with you, apparently.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” Ona’s voice lowered as she leaned in, “not in the slightest.”

“Ey, tórtolitos (lovebirds)!” Aitana’s voice rang out. “Coach has an announcement to make. Vamos!”

You sighed. “Remind me why telling the team that we’re dating was a good idea again?”

“For one, it would stop all the pestering,” Ona pecked your lips and stood up before offering a hand. “Come on, tórtola. Time waits for no one, not even for new Champions League winners.”

You didn’t expect things to turn out the way they did when you first saw her across the pitch years ago, but you were glad that they did, and better than you could have ever hoped.

You took Ona’s hand gingerly, swinging it back and forth, getting used to the feeling, because you intended on having it with you forever. If Ona came with it too, that's fine by you, you supposed.

The Athletic: A Star Is Born — Y/N Y/L/N’s Barcelona Start and Road to First Champions League “Y/N Y/L/N is the kind of player every club would benefit from having,” said former Manchester City captain Vincent Kompany in the summer of 2020, days before news of Y/L/N’s signing was announced. “She is a star in the making.” Y/L/N came up within the ranks of Portland Thorns before getting picked up at Man City, helping the club to its first-ever WUCL participation. But it was at Barcelona that she was able to realize her potential. And then, in the 94th of the Champions League final, she scored and sealed a third European championship for Barcelona. After a tumultuous season which sees Barcelona barely clinch the league title for the sixth year in a row, Y/N Y/L/N emerged a key player at La Blaugrana, a sure-fire Ballon d’Or contender in October, and one of the most prolific forwards within the game—and she’s only 23. […]”

a/n: WOOP WOOP!! we made it guys, we've reached the end. if you've read everything up until now, i sincerely thank you for coming along on this journey of self-indulgence lol. we'll say goodbye to y/n and ona and let them ride off into the sunset and continue to slay at barcelona. once again, thank you for reading, more woso fics coming soon! for now, delfiore over and out 🫡

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle angst

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 month

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im so obsessed with the touchstarved hero thing that you did ive read it more than 20 times, a very normal amount yes, would you ever think of writing another touchstarved prompt or even a touchstarved villain one? thank you so much for your work

"I don't mind."

"Hm?" The protagonist looked up, brow furrowing.

"I don't mind when you touch me," the villain said. "That is - it's not horrific."

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't horrific. Life goals."

The villain shot them a look.

The protagonist smiled despite themselves. It was too easy to feel lulled, brain at ease for the first time in far too long, buzzing with all the good endorphins. Intimacy. Closeness. It was impossible to dwell on the danger, for as surely as there was attraction, there was danger.

They leaned in, slowly enough to clearly telegraph their intentions, and pressed a kiss to the villain's chest. Half teasing. Half something infinitely more dangerous, like genuine affection for the terrible idea sprawled beneath them.

The villain held their gaze. They almost even smiled back. They tangled their fingers into the protagonist's hair instead, but didn't tug them away. They let the protagonist settle even closer than before, head against their beating chest.

The protagonist was starting to understand that meant something too.

"It's merely that people don't do it very often," the villain said, voice clipped, carefully controlled. "Touch me, I mean. Or when they do, it's with the sort of casual presumption that makes me want to rip their hands off. You do not presume."

"Well, you did look ready to rip my hands off once or twice." They knew what the villain meant though. When the protagonist had touched suddenly, unexpectedly, it had been less about trying to control the villain and more just needing something to hold onto as the villain kissed them stupid. Instinct. Desire. Need. The villain had known that, hadn't they? "But you're welcome. I mean, any time."

The villain nodded. Once. Curt - uncomfortable, perhaps, with such an open and vulnerable emotion. They cleared their throat.

The protagonist felt another stupid swell of warmth. They could hear the villain's heartbeat slowing beneath their ear, trusting, and it felt like yet another giddy thrill for the day. A complicated and tentative privilege.

They lay together, in their stolen moment of illicit peace.

"Besides," the villain broke the silence after a while. "Next time, I can always ziptie your hands to the bed posts."

"Next time?" The protagonist's heart skipped.

The villain shrugged. "You like touching. You'd look adorable begging for it. I think I'd like to see that."

The protagonist was sure they'd gone all wide-eyed again, flushed and flustered, because that time the villain definitely smiled. They hesitated, then tugged the protagonist's hair.

"Come back here so I can kiss you again," the villain said.

The protagonist obliged, even as their brain whirled through all the villain had said.

How long had it been since someone touched the villain like this? Since the villain let themselves be touched? It was clearly something they craved, enjoyed, just as clearly as it was something more complicated than that too.

They stopped thinking as the kiss deepened. They drew themselves a little closer still, ever-mindful of where they put their hands, and only more conscious now because of that of the way the villain's body responded beneath them. The shiver of breath. The thud of their heart. The way the villain pressed in, only to pull back again, like a starved creature that could only sustain itself in small increments before it became too much.

It was intoxicating. It felt just a little like power. A good, perfect, brilliant sort of power.

As they broke apart, the villain studied them for another long moment, expression unreadable, but eyes almost soft.

"Come on," the villain murmured. "Play time's over. Let's go."

#to me this is Johnny and Finch #for anyone who knows those characters #hero x villain #villains and heroes #protagonist and antagonist #heroes and villains #villain x hero #writing #story #touch-starved #i like the thought of a more complicated touch-starvation where the villain is very much touch-starved #but also very much eager to be in control of how they are touched

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martiansodas-blog · 1 year

Text

Talk me through it

• Joel Miller x reader

• Summary: Your sexual experiences were never a priority for your partners. They never even cared for you when it was over. When your friend Joel finds out, he wants to be the one to change that.

• Contents: Smut, age gap, friends to lovers, huge praise kink, aftercare, fluff.

• Authors note: My first fic in a few years… would love your feedback! ☺️ I take requests babies.

Your body in Jackson but your mind a million miles away, you were daydreaming about a man two decades your senior.

What did his hands feel like after a hard day of work? Coarse and dry most likely.

But we’re they gentle when they came in contact with someone else? When they were taking off someone’s clothes…

Snap out of it

He’s simply a regular at the bar. An acquaintance. And even that was pushing it. The only people he truly softened for was Ellie and Tommy.

You gaze at the clock : one hour left. The last hour is always the longest. Most customers had filtered out and you were cleaning with your coworker Amanda.

“How did your date go?” You asked

“Didn’t know if he was my type at first, but after he ate me out I decided he was.”

You tried to chuckle with her but your body cringed.

“You enjoy that?” You asked embarrassed.

It seemed like everyone liked it but you. Was there something wrong with you? Dumbfounded Amanda looked back at you.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know, receiving head is just…boring. It’s not painful, it’s not exciting, it’s just meh. I’d rather move on to the main event, ya know?”

Her expression didn’t change.

“What are you talking about!? Receiving is practically the only thing that makes being born female worth it.” You both laughed as you stood on your tip toes to put a glass away.

Your words made Joel’s whole body stiff.

One night with me. One night with me and I’ll give you the head you deserve. Stupid boys your age don’t know how to pleasure a woman.

He couldn’t say that tho, especially not in public. Hell go for something calmer.

“Maybe you just haven’t been with an experienced enough person.”

You jolt around in shock. You had no idea until now he was in the bar, let alone listening to your conversation.

“Um, yeah, maybe. It’s not a big deal for me.”

You shrugged the topic off and quickly turned around making yourself busy. You went beat red knowing the most attractive man in town heard about your sex life, or lack thereof.

It’s a big deal for me, you’re torturing me here.

Joel decided he shouldn’t say anything else and risk making you uncomfortable, it wasn’t his intention. Without saying another word he headed home.

“Maybe he’s right, maybe you should have a night with someone older.” Amanda said in a suggestive voice. When you laughed this time it was out of awkwardness.

“Good one, I don’t think so. Im not one for one night stands. Plus, in a commune this size, Ive had a good look around and haven’t been attracted to any guys.”

Lie.

You and Joel were on good terms. You don’t use the word ‘friends’ because Joel isn’t really friends with anyone. At least he wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t let his walls go down enough for that. But he does care about his inner circle and that’s obvious.

You could tell you were one of the people he softened for. Mainly it was Tommy and Ellie, but somehow you always managed sneak your way in there. Most of the reason being you were giving him drinks.

Your affection for him was one sided, but it didn’t matter. He was never going to find out. Your crush just gave you something to look forward to during work.

• • •

It’s an hour before closing and Joel had yet to come in. Odd. Maybe he was under the weather today.

Pulling you from your thoughts was the bell of the door opening.

Speak of the devil

“Hey! Was wondering when you’d show up.”

He smiled at you. Thats rare. He liked a little too much that you wanted to see him. He wanted to see you too, he just still not good at expressing his emotions and letting people in.

“Whiskey?” You assumed.

“Actually, I was thinking of not drinking here tonight.”

The smirk on his face showed that he had a plan but you couldn’t figure out what in the world it was.

Why would he come to a bar if he wasn’t going to drink?

“How about I be the bartender for once. I hope that’s not forward of me to ask, but would you like to come by my place after your shift? If you’re too tired I understand-“

“Yes that sounds great, yes.” You could hear your smile in your voice.

“Alright then, peach. You know which house is mine. See ya then.” He got up and walked away.

Peach. He’d never called you that before.

Yes, you did know which house Joel lived in, but you’ve never been in it. You wondered what kind of decorations he hung up. Did it smell like him? You could barely stand still the remainder of your shift.

You have to put away your school girl crush.

• • •

As soon as it hit the hour you threw off your apron and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

You wished makeup survived the apocalypse, just a little to make your eyes pop.

What are you doing? He’s not your boyfriend.

You really must stop letting your mind wander. You ran your fingers through your hair and tried to get the smell of spilt beer off you. You don’t know what to expect. You’ve never hung out with Joel like this.

A few minutes later you’re knocking on his door. Nearly vibrating with nerves.

He opens it and

God

There’s that enchanting smile again.

It’s contagious. For a few seconds you two just gaze at each other with grins.

“Hey” you said shyly

“Glad you came, come on in.”

He opened the door as far as it went and you stepped in.

Definitely Joel Millers place.

Not much decorations, but his presence is here. Things Ellie has made for him hung around the living room. Things that survived of his from before the apocalypse. It felt homey. It felt safe.

He led the two of you into the living room. When your legs hit the couch you let out a sigh.

There were already two cold beers and glasses of water on the coffee table in front of you. Normally you don’t like to drink because you’re around it almost everyday and the smell gets annoying. But with Joel it seemed fun.

You both picked up your bottles and instead of making small talk or clinking the drinks together, you just nodded at each other and sipped.

Oh wow, this was actually kind of good. Where did he get this from? You groaned as it warmed your body.

“Haven’t been able to rest that much today. Work was busy. This is nice, Miller.”

He shifted closer to you. Closer than a acquaintance would normally sit. Not that you’re offended, you almost feel flattered. Joel speaks in actions.

“As long as you don’t go tellin people I’m nice.” He joked

“I like nice Joel.” Your voice wasn’t light anymore. “I hope I get to see more of him.”

You knew once those words came out of your mouth that they pushed a boundary. It’s a miracle anyone in this type of world is nice. It’s not an expectation you have anymore.

Your sentence didn’t seem to bother him, though. He stared at you for a few beats. He scooted once again until your knees touched. You’d never been this close to him, it was making your face get hot.

You both seem to have fallen into a comfortable silence, studying each other. There are details on his face you’ve never seen before. He pulled off facial hair like no other. His beard a mix of white, gray and brown.

You don’t know how long it stayed like this, but when you looked up at him to feel out the situation, he wasn’t looking back at you.

He was looking at your lips. You assumed they were dry or you had something on them. Instinctively you licked them.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whispered.

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

Instead of answering he put his hands on each side of your face. You made eye contact and thought you must be dreaming.

I’ve had dreams of him before, this must be another one.

But no. You can smell the drink he had and feel his big hands.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. You didn’t need time to think.

“Yes.”

In milliseconds your lips touched.

If this is a dream I never want to wake up.

The kiss starts gentle. Feather light. Sweet. Your noses bumping into each other. Not at all what you expected from Joel Miller.

You press your face into his to make the kiss more intense, but he puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you where he can be tender.

You pull away. Both taking a moment to process.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t want him. Especially after that kiss.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

He breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Any nerves or unfamiliarity between you two is gone.

“Com’ere”

Now you’re both giggling and hugging. So happy that feelings have been confessed.

Your head nuzzled into his neck gave the perfect opportunity to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not going to break me. I want you to kiss me like I’m not delicate.”

Something snapped in him.

Maybe it was your warm breath on his ear, maybe it was that you were close enough to straddling him but not there yet. Maybe it’s because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, no, on earth.

He grabs your face with more force this time. Kissing you aggressively. You enjoyed how his fingers dug into your jaw. You gasped and he took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.

He grabbed your legs and settled you over him. It was obvious he was strong but goddamn. He lifted a fully grown woman like it was nothing. It made a fire start in your lower belly.

“I need you. I need you right here on this couch.”

You didn’t respond. Too drunk on him already. You knew once his cock touched you there’d be no thoughts left in your brain.

He chuckled at your state, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

“Sweetheart are you with me?”

“Yeah sorry, I just can’t believe I’m doing this with you. You’ve already made me feel better than any guys I’ve been on dates with and-” your words got muffled by you taking off your shirt. You went braless today.

Now Joel was the speechless one. Staring at your chest. Running his hands up and down your sides.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“You’re so … beautiful. Now I really can’t wait, darlin.”

With the same urgency as before he picks you up and laid you out on the couch. Kissing your stomach, not giving you time to process.

He continues kissing down your body while unbuttoning your jeans. He rips them off along with your underwear in one motion.

Jesus, fuck.

“You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you babe?”

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

He lets out a noise that can best be described as feral.

“But, um, you don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal to me.”

The man looked up at your from between your thighs.

“Will you let me have a taste? If you say stop, I’ll stop.”

“…Okay.”

“Mmm, let me show you how a real man makes you feel.”

All apprehension and doubts you had floated away. Joel licked up both sides of your folds slowly, and you swore you could cum right then.

Your core fluttered around nothing. You needed it again and again and again. He was taking his time with you. Mapping your body out. His tongue making sure to know every inch of you.

The deeper his tongue went, the more your body relaxed. You don’t think it has ever relaxed this much.

The house filled with sinful noises. Your moans, him lapping against you, the couch cousins being gripped.

When he groaned it sent vibrations through your whole body, pushing you closer to the edge.

He went back to licking you from bottom to top. Flattening his tongue as much as possible. Leaving a kiss on your clit before going to the other side.

I love it when he does that. God.

He started to pick up his pace. Inserting his tongue as deep as it goes. Eating you out like a starved man. And he was. You were his new favorite meal. He’s perfectly fine with not getting laid tonight and doing this instead.

“Fuck please- ohh-”

He loves that he can make you sound like that. It makes his cock beg to get out of his pants.

“Joel,” you whimpered out, grabbing his hair.

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me. You’re the sweetest fuckin thing.”

His words were sweet but his tone was filthy. It made your back arch. He knew you were close. He kicked it up a notch and inserted a finger in you.

You gasped at the size and feel. You could finally clench around something and your body was so happy.

“Fuck it feels so good! I’m close.”

I know you are

“You’re doing so good.”

He added a finger and moved them in a come hither motion.

You were done for. His calloused hands bringing you to release. He kept pumping in and out of you, getting all he could of your liquid. When he saw you regaining your breathing he removed his hand.

Laying there for a few minutes with half lidded eyes, you felt like you were on drugs. You were trying to find your composure but your body wouldn’t stop tingling.

The man who just gave you your best orgasm crawls up and appears in your view.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

He has the biggest smirk on his face, arms on either side of you. You don’t care. You’d give everything up if it meant you’d get more of his talent in your future.

“That was incredible.” You exhale

“For me, too.”

In what was becoming classic Joel Miller fashion, he presses the gentlest of kisses to your lips, then rests his forehead against yours.

“Did I wear you out?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I have a lot planned.”

You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

He liked the nickname.

“Yeah, but I prefer to fuck my pretty lady on my bed.”

With that he stood up and carried you bridal style to his room. It was darker in there with one orange lamp on which made the mood even more sensual. He placed you on his bed and resumed the position he was in before.

“I’m gonna make sure you feel me tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You let out a whimper. Crashing into another kiss.

It was his turn to take off clothes.

You hastily unbuttoned his flannel and threw it across the room. He would laugh at your urgency if he wasn’t just as bad.

You smooth your hand over his new bare skin. Soft with scars. You reached his belt and he pushed your hands away to do it himself. Taking the belt then his jeans off much faster than you could’ve.

You stared at his outline, unable to mask your expression. You can tell he’s big without even seeing it yet. By the smirk on his face, he knows it too. You were really boosting his ego tonight.

“You gonna gawk all night or should I take it out?”

Fuchsia creeping onto your cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve been with anyone your caliber before.” You say meekly, still looking at his clothed cock.

He bring his face right above yours and tilts your chin so your eyes meet.

“Sweet girl, I’ll be gentle. I’ll start slow for you.”

You’re reassured. You feel safe with him.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He brings his lips to meet yours once more. Not breaking it while he tugs off his boxers.

Your breath quickens as you get nervous again. He immediately takes notice and strokes your cheek. Caring about you in every touch.

You feel the head of his cock meet your entrance. Your head falls back against the pillows. He takes this as a sign to push in a few inches deeper.

“That’s my girl.”

Your gasps like angels singing. Your legs squeezing around me because you need more.

Joel goes like this for several minutes. Pushing in, letting you adjust, making sure he doesn’t immediately cum, then pushing again.

You needed movement. Unable to control the pleas that left your mouth.

“Joel, fuck me. I can take it. Stretch me out.”

He can’t say no to you. Especially when you’re like this.

He pulls almost completely out of you then slams back in. Going from 0 to 100. His tip touching your cervix.

He was reaching depths of you no man ever had before. You couldn’t help but be loud.

“I know baby, I know. Let it all out.”

His words made you moan even more. You’re so turned on it got caught in your throat. No one had ever talked you through it before. No one had said such dirty things to you while making you feel this good. No one has made you feel as good as you deserved.

“So good. So good for me.”

You were so wet it was seeping out of you and onto the sheets. You’ve had the briefest feel of him and are already addicted. You rolled your hips into him and hooked your legs around his waist. Instantly he groaned at the feeling.

“Just like that baby, there you go.” His low voice registered in your ear. You always admired the sound of his voice but you never thought it’d be praising you. It was a fucking drug.

He kissed you hard on the mouth and it made the little bit of your body you had control over go limp. He took this opportunity to take your hands and pin them together above your head. It turned you on so much, your back began to arch. Anyone within a ten mile radius would be able to hear you.

Joel had to focus to get a complete sentence out because of how tight you were clenched around him.

“You sound so good. I love hearing how I make my girl feel. You’re so spent on my cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Of course you are. Never truly been taken care of, have you?

“N-No.” you whimpered.

“Think you can take more of me, sweet thing?” He let your hands go so he could caress your cheek.

You were nervous but you nodded.

“Good girl.” He smirked at you when he said it. He loved how much power he had over you.

He grabs your legs and put them over his shoulder. With intense speed starts fucking you again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pulled obscene noises from your mouth.

“Oh god oh god”

“That’s my girl. I love being buried in your perfect cunt.”

Your back was arching, your fists were gripping the sheets and your clit was throbbing. Your orgasm was nearing quickly.

Your moans got higher and closer together as your legs squeezed around him.

“Words baby, use your words.”

“Fuck, I’m close. Oh I’m close, oh Joel please. It feels so fucking good.”

He knew exactly what you needed. He circled your clit with his rough thumb and continued to thrust into you hard.

“Good girl, cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

“Oh god oh god-”

You came harder than you ever have before. Leaving a mess on and beneath you. Your ears have a light ringing in them and you were seeing stars. You couldn’t even register if Joel was still near you until you felt a warm washcloth bringing you back to reality.

You opened your eyes and saw him. Someone you knew now you couldn’t live without.

He delicately rubbed one of your legs with one hand and cleaned you up with the other. Making sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you fell asleep right there, which after that experience, was likely.

His actions are a huge juxtaposition to his reputation. He is not stoic and harsh and self centered. He is caring and affectionate and thoughtful.

You smiled up at him while half asleep.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out. Your voice was half gone.

“Of course, darlin. It’s only the decent thing to do.”

He tossed the cloth on the floor and placed a soft blanket under where you both came. He’d wash the sheets later.

“No guy I’ve been with has really given me aftercare before…”

For some reason saying that was more venerable than the act you just did with him. Your face feels hot.

“You deserve so much more than what’s been given to you. And I don’t just mean with sex.”

You knew if either of you said much else you’d burst into tears. You made grabby hands at him and the two of you fell into a warm cuddle, touching as much of each others skin as possible.

“Goodnight, cowboy.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Goodnight, peach.”

#joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal x you #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #Joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #Joel miller smut #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller friends to lovers #Joel miller praise kink #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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thelov3lybookworm · 2 months

Note

Hello, there! First of all, i must say tha I love your writing style.

I had this idea on my mind, and I was wondering if you could write something about it.

It's an Eris x reader, where the reader is traveling from another world and falls in velaris, Eris finds her nearby, looking confused and trying to help her, but she can't understand his language.

I would love it if you'd write something like that, and I was hoping in a possible love triangle, with angst and happy ending for Eris.

Sorry for any mistake. I hope that you understand, English it's not my first language

Our World (part 1)

Summary: The dark opening in the sky.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: lol i just realised that i forgot the language difference part so they are all talking to and understanding each other. also sorry for the delay 😭ive never written anything like this or even thought about it, so it was a lil bit of a challenge to write this, but we've at least started!

anyways

enjoy! ❣️

•○🌑○•

The weird, dark and gaping hole on the pavement looked weird. Like it did not belong.

Even under the night sky, in the alleyway shrouded in shadows, it looked sinister.

That did not stop Y/n from leaning close to inspect it.

And then, being her clumsy self, she could not stop herself from toppling into it.

•○🌑○•

The weird, dark opening in the night sky looked different, like it did not belong in the darkened sky.

Even in the moonless night, it looked sinister.

That did not stop Eris from trying to peer into it.

But it did stop Eris from advancing further when a noise started coming from it. Like someone screaming.

Not too long after, something- no, someone- fell from it.

Eris stared, bewildered, as the figure groaned, stretching out their limbs, lifting their head amid the fallen leaves in the dense forests of the night court.

He had been visiting Velaris for a meeting, and had decided to take a small walk to clear his mind of the bullshit Rhysand had spewed before he returned to the Autumn Court.

And then he had stumbled across the clearing that looked darker than its surroundings, and he had paused to wonder what abomination he would come across.

And now this- this creature, whatever it was, covered with a white cloth that barely reached their knee and a red, soft, velvet like hat on their head, had almost taken down Eris.

And then the creature moved some more, and Eris realised that it was a female. And by the looks of it, mortal. Though her beauty could rival that of the fae females' beauty.

Eris threw that thought to the back of his mind just as her eyes met his while she was trying to shove her hair out of her face.

Despite his curiosity, he gave her one of his disgusted sneers.

She did a double take, her eyes widening.

She stared and stared at Eris, her eyes bewildered. And then she stared some more, as if her eyes had been glued to his immaculately dressed form.

It made Eris a little uncomfortable, and that was saying something, as he was someone who was used to being stared at all the time.

When her eyes remained unwavering, he spat. "What?"

She blinked, her cheeks flushing. "I- you- were you in a play? Why are you dressed like that?"

He rose his brows, incredulous. "What the hell do you mean?"

She scrambled to her feet, and Eris looked away when her dress rode up a little.

Eris was disgusted with himself when he realised that his heart was beating a little faster.

"You- you're dressed up as some... some noble. Am I interrupting a play or something?"

Eris sighed, then walked over to her. "Who the hell are you? Why are you here in Prythian, cause you sure as hell look like you belong in some whore world."

The female gaped at him, her bright eyes enraged. "What the hell is wrong with you! Why would you say that?!"

Despite her angry words, she tugged on the ends of the rag she was wearing, subconsciously trying to cover up.

Before he could speak, leaves crunched behind Eris, and he rolled his eyes, hard, as he removed his jacket and draped it over the pretty female. He had just done adjusting it, trying to ignore her curious and angry eyes when he spoke.

"What is going on here?" The menacing form of the shadowsinger appeared from behind a tree, his wings flared slightly in a show of dominance. He glared at Eris. "Why are you not gone yet?"

"Those are wings!" The female behind Eris mumbled to herself in shock, but Eris ignored her.

Eris gave the shadowsinger a smirk. "Well, looks like we have a problem."

Azriel rose a brow, turning his eyes to the female behind Eris.

"Didn't know you had a thing for outdoor fucking Eris."

A strangled choke came from behind Eris, and it became harder to hide his amusement.

"What do you mean?!"

Azriel rose an unamused brow. "What, are you not being paid?"

"I- you- die!"

Azriel blinked, shocked. He glanced to Eris curiously. "Where'd you find her?"

"I'm trying to figure that out too."

Azriel opened his mouth to speak, but Eris shook his head. "I need to speak to Rhys."

Without much fuss, Azriel accepted.

"Let's go."

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @berryzxx

Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar

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shotgunbunny · 1 year

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Anon who asked if you take requests here, i wanted to ask you if you could write a third part to lumberjack!ari because he doesnt want to leave my mind 😩 i read both fics yesterday and ive been thinking about him non-stop. If you want and can could you write a third part where he got his little wife pregnant, her period is late but doesnt wanna get him excited for nothing so she goes by herself in town to buy a pregnancy test. He finds out and goes home mad, ready to punish her but once he gets there and sees the positive pregnancy test all his anger goes away and all he does is kiss her and praise her for being such a good wife who will soon give him a baby

༻𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬༺

WC:3.1k+ GIF by evansensations

{soft!dark!lumberjack!Ari x pregnant!reader}

{Warnings!! Soft!dark!Ari!! Ari being possessive!! Mentions of sex!! Mentions of abortion but like just the word!! Being pregnant!! Morning sickness!!}

Like real people do {part 1}

Eyes always seeking {part 2}

Ari was much softer after that night in the hot tub. From his glaces at you to how he held you. It was as if he was trying to apologize for how rough he could be through his gentle affection. And you were loving every second of it. It was such a change from his usual character. You were used to sharp glares and steeled looks and now when he looked at you, you saw adoration swirl in his blue eyes and a smile on his face. His hands that once held you so firm, now cradled your waist as he burried his face in the crook of your neck to drink your scent in and leave gentle kisses.

You had no idea why he had changed but you couldn't bring yourself to complain as you adored bathing in his love. Everyday after work you would make dinner and he would eat every bite with a peaceful smile on his face. Followed by him asking for dessert which always resulted in you on the kitchen table with your skirt of dress pulled up and Ari feasting on your pussy until you coated his beard with your essence. He devoured you everytime and would ask for a kiss in return. Loving Ari got easier by the day, and he couldn't help but let himself drown in your love.

Ari had changed after that night due to the overwhelming love he had for you. You accepted his gift and thanked him endlessly making his ego sky rocket. He knew that it was a gateway for an attempt to escape yet you never even tried, the thought had never crossed your mind. The fact that you had never even thought about running away from Ari made him soft. You wanted him just as much as he needed you. Being so gentle with you was so simple and easy that he fell into it. He loved holding you so closely and ghosting his lips across your neck. It was as if the final jigsaw piece finally slipped into place and Ari felt complete.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

It had been a month since that night and Ari had made love to you nearly every night whispering sweet nothings to you while he wrapped his arms around you and showered you in his love. Every moment was perfect in the Levinson household now that things had changed and Ari had opened his heart to you fully.

You remember when you were laid across his chest listening to his heart beat, your head rising with his breathing. Your hand was interlaced with his after a night of love making. You stared up at him, mapping out his beauty so that you could forever remember his glory and write about it in a poem one day. He glanced down at you before holding your gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, and you giggled making his heart beat faster causing you to blush.

"What are you looking at, little love?" He said it so softly yet his chest still rumbled almost like a purr. You kiss his chin and he hummed producing the purring noise again. "You. You're so pretty Ari. Thank you for giving me your heart." His ears turned red and he smiled so gently. He brought your joined hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles and brought them back to lay on the bed. "Pretty? I've never been called pretty, but I'm glad you find me so appealing little wifey," a beat passed and his arms tightened around your waist. "Thank you for giving me your heart first little wifey. It's my most treasured item."

You blushed and giggled, everything he said was like poetry and it made butterflies errupt in your stomach. "I promise to protect your heart forever my handsome husband." Ari grunted, his eyebrows knitting together causing him to frown. Your heart sped up and you couldn't help but fear you had said something wrong when he suddenly kissed your forehead. You looked up at him and spoke it a hushed voice almost as if telling you a secret. "You shouldn't protect my heart, my love. That's my job. I'll defend every bone in your body, I'll protect your heart and soul, and I'll always keep you safe." And just like that you fell further in love with him.

You cherished that memory so dearly, yet the next morning wasn't as romantic. You awoke feeling so ill and ran to the toilet, you were as quiet as possible as you left the bed yet Ari immediately felt you leave and his heart raced. He heard the sound of you heaving in the toilet and quicky approached. He stared, worry swirling in his iris's as he saw you with your head in the toilet bowl. He walked over slowly and caressed your back, before gathering your hair out of your face.

When you were done, you groaned and felt Ari's hands leave you before you registered him returning with a glass of water and some medicine, you smiled up at him and thanked him.

That should have been your first sign but you assumed it was the new takeout that Ari had brought you last night, and he assumed so too. When you threw up the next morning Ari remained asleep. And it kept continuing, you'd get up and be sick while Ari slept peacefully. You hated it so much, throwing up nearly every morning was causing your mood to change to fast that Ari didn't know what to do. He assumed that it was your period yet didn't mention it as he was scared of offending you or upsetting you.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You had woken up to empty you stomach again, early in the morning. You flushed it away and brushed your teeth, trying to think of what could be wrong with you. You spat out the remnants and rinsed your mouth with water before heading back to bed. You cuddled up to the sleeping bed, needing his heat after running out of it and into the cold. You decided to keep your ill episodes secret, you didn't want Ari to change how he was with you. Logically you knew he would take care of you and make sure you were okay, but the otherside feared he saw you as a sick wife he didn't want.

You sighed and stroked a lock of his hair out of his face before heading to sleep too. You were awoken an hour later by Ari's soft lips pressing on your forehead and a whisper of 'I love you.' before he headed off to work. You hummed and cuddled closer to Ari's side, breathing his scent in. You relaxed and fell back to sleep, dreaming of Ari and him building a treehouse.

You slowly awoke again, much later in the morning and yawned. You reflected on your dream and smiled, Ari as a dad would be so perfect. One day you'd have your own but for now you were happy hogging all of his attention. You knitted your brows together. Thinking of pregnancy sent your mind racing until it lingered on the big question: When was the last time you had your period? You gulped. It must be late.

Yet the more you thought about it the more things made sense. Your increases sex drive which Ari was thriving off. The sickness you were enduring every morning. Even how your eating habits had changed. Your heart raced. You needed to settle your mind, with a determined huff you dragged yourself out of bed and remade your bed. You decided you needed to go to town and get a pregnancy test.

You put panties and sighed remembering how they felt. You hadn't worn any in such a long time because Ari often claimed he wanted easy access to his wife. You chose to wear a simple dress and glanced outside. It was sunny, so you'd skip the jacket. You smiled, you hadn't been to town in such a long time. You decided to do a bit of glam, and decided to do a cute look so that you didn't look overdone, but you definitely looked pretty. You grabbed your bag and stuffed your phone and purse in, before heading down the stairs.

You slid your shoes, you hadn't worn them in a while either. Ari hadn't let you leave the house, but why would you want to leave, everything was so beautiful here. And Ari had made so much of the furniture that you often marvelled at it. You grabbed the pair of keys that dangled on the side and headed out and locked the door. You decided to call an Uber to get into town. You smiled, maybe you'd go and see friends. You shut that thought down quickly remembering how Ari had told you what they were really like. You were so grateful for a man like him, he took such good care of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw your Uber pull up. You checked that the door was locked and headed into town.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Ari wiped the sweat from his brows after delivering another blow to the tree he was currently chopping down. He felt his phone buzz and he groaned before he pulled it out. He saw a text from his friend Richard, his heart started racing. Richard had agreed to help keep an eye on you, especially if you decided to wander.Suddenly all the heat he was feeling from the sun and his work disappeared, as he felt ice settle into his blood. There on his phone was a crisp picture of you in town.

His jaw tightened and his eyes fired up with rage. How could he be so stupid as to let his guard down. Ofcourse you'd wander, you're so curious about the world. He'd chain you down when he got you home. That was for certain, he'd teach you a lesson on trying to leave him. He dislodged his axe from the tree and threw it at the ground in a fit of rage before he stormed off to his truck and yanked the door open. He got it and slammed the door shut before speeding off home.

He'd wait for you at home, so you could do your walk of shame and give your shitty excuse as to why you'd even dare leave the sanctuary he had created for you. He parked his truck before unlocking the door. He practically kicked it open and closed. He stomped to the living room and sat brooding allowing dark cloud to linger over him and rain dark thoughts into his mind. He crossed his arms across his chest and he let out an angered huff. He'd wait for you.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You were browsing the aisles with a shy look on your face. You kept your eyes down until you reached the feminine health section. You looked around and strolled past the pads and tampons, you swallowed. What if it was just a late period and you were over reacting? You sighed it was better to be absolutely certain rather than letting your mind torment you. You looked at the variety of tests. There were so many options. Your eyes glanced until you saw the named brands and you decided to grab 2 to be absolutely sure.

You headed to the self checkout with the clutched in your fist and scanned them both before pulling out your cash. You never remember having cash in your purse, maybe Ari put it in there. Your heart fluttered at his selflessness. He was such a good husband. Although you haven't had a proper ceremony yet, he did manage to get you both married with the forms. You cried tears of joy that day, you were officially Mrs. Levinson. But you couldn't help but ache for a beautiful church ceremony, and Ari had promised that soon he would grant your wish.

You put the tests in your bag as well as the receipt before heading out and ordering and Uber back home again. Your heart was speeding up at the possibilities and soon your hands began to shake both out of fear and excitement. Your Uber pulled up shortly and you began your journey back after a short trip into town. No one had really noticed you or cared.

And that was all thanks to Ari and his subtle threats at town meetings. How he had staked his claim on you in front of all the folks. How he had waved your certificate of marriage in all their faces and then told them if they wanted to keep their houses warm and their buildings etc. Then they'd obey his rules when it came to you. Ofcourse you were oblivious to him manipulating the whole town, and believed his every word when he claimed that they didn't care about you except him.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You got out of the Uber and immediately noted Ari's truck parked outside. You were trembling, did he know? You had no other option but to bite the bullet. You sucked a breath in and slowly headed towards the door and opened it. You slid your shoes off and hung the spare key up. You turned around and jumped at the enraged look in Ari's eyes. Your eyes immediately filled with tears and before he could even utter anything mean out you babbled out, "I'm sorry! I don't know! But if I am we- we can have an abortion or something!"

Ari stopped functioning. His eyes went blank and his mouth went agape. He stared at you and your timid stance. Your eyes filled with tears and your bottom lip wobbling. You stared at him begging, pleading for any sign from him. Yet he was too busy in a loop of thoughts.

'Abortion.' That's all that echoed in his head. They are linked with pregnancies. And that would mean that you're pregnant. But that's impossible because you had your period. However Ari had been presumptions about it and when he thought you were, you had sex and there was no blood. Over and over his thoughts looped. His mind flashing with possibilities when he heard you voice sad and soft breaking him out of the inner discussion in his brain.

"I-I don't know if I am. I don't wanna get our hopes up." Ari immediately bundled you in his arms keeping you close. You weren't leaving him. You were potentially having his child. He felt his heart grow ten sizes, he pulled away and looked down, a stern look still planted on his face. "Why were you in town?" You gulped and reached into the bag pulling out the two pregnancy tests. Ari's eyes widened. His heart started racing suddenly coming to terms with the fact that he could potentially have gotten you pregnant. He might be a dad.

He gulped and looked down at you, "Have you taken them yet?" His voice was a whisper and you glared up at him. He was just too happy over what might be happening to realise how silly his question is. "They're still in the box. So no I haven't." You snapped at him. Ari felt more puzzle pieces connect. Your change of mood, the strange food you started eating. He stared down at you. "What are you waiting for? Take them."

You both ran upstairs, you went into the bathroom and Ari stood outside pacing, stroking his beard feeling every second drag on way longer than it should have. You came out and looked at him. "It takes about 2 minutes. I've left them on the side." Ari drew his eyebrows together before he headed towards you and gathered you in his arms. "Listen baby, all the sign point towards yes. But don't worry too much about my reaction okay. I'm happy if you're pregnant or not. All that matters is that you are okay and healthy." You stared up at him and nuzzled into his chest.

You felt safe, you felt loved. You both stood there embracing the moment not knowing what to do or how to act. You just simply stayed in each others arms where you knew it was safe and loving. Where nothing bad could attack, and nothing cruel could hurt you. In that moment you were just Mr and Mrs Levinson. And that's all that mattered.

When you pulled away, it had been way over 2 minutes. Ari looked down at you. You half smiled before heading into the bathroom and letting out a sigh. You looked down at both tests and tears gathered in your eyes. Ari felt his heart race at your watery eyes. You turned to him with a massive grin on your face holding both the tests. "I'm pregnant!" Ari had never moved so fast. He scooped you up in his arms.

He felt tears gather in his eyes. You were pregnant with his child. He was going to be a dad. He finally had a family. "You're pregnant baby!" You giggled wiping your tears and wrapping your arms around his shoulders hugging him tightly. He pulled back and placed his forehead against yours. "We're going to have a baby!" He whispered it so excitedly that you giggled. He put you down gently and you stared up at him seeing nothing but love reflecting in his eyes.

"We're gonna have a baby! You're gonna be a daddy!" Ari immediately began to smother you in kisses, making sure to kiss away all those tears. His anger from earlier melted in seconds, he was glad you went out. He pressed a kiss to your lips. Pulling away and swiping hair behind your ears, "You make so me so fuckin' proud mama. You're gonna have my kid! You're so fuckin' amazing!" You both smiled and laughed.

Ari looked down at you, his eyes returning to concern, "You haven't had morning sickness though?" You looked down shyly before gently saying, "I have. Every morning about an hour before you start work it happens. And I can't wake you because you look so peaceful when you sleep." You pouted. Ari immediately tilted your chin upwards, he stared down at you sternly, "Listen here wifey, I don't care how peaceful I look. You wake me up, you let me help you. It's my job baby. I need to take care of you. Got it?" You nodded and kissed him.

He smiled and his features softened up, upon feeling your lips against his. He was so happy in this moment, he couldn't stop kissing you and holding you. He admired every part of you. Feeling nothing but love fill his bones and his blood. You both stared at each other, drowning in adoration when Ari spoke again, his voice was a murmur and all you could hear was a rumble due to your head on his chest. "You're so perfect wifey, you're giving me a child! God I'm gonna keep you pregnant forever baby, that's a promise."

#chris evans #ari levinson x reader #ari levison x reader #chris evans x reader #dark ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #dark ari levinson #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x innocent!reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson angst #ari levinson dark #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x plus size reader #ari levinson x f!reader #ari levinson au #ari levinson fluff

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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HEYYYYY so ive been thinking, what if reader is like good at singing and one day when vox tells her he’ll be out for a meeting and then they start busting down them tunes not knowing vox came back and then after theyre done singing vox is just like “wow that sucked” (bro does NOT want to compliment them🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🚫🚫)

Sing-Song Shenanigans

A/N: HAHAHAHAHA I've been wanting to incorporate this into a new interlude and now this has absolutely given me the chance to- Vox at this point is practically wrapped around our dear Reader's pinkie, he's just in denial about it not to mention absolutely clueless. He compliments (Y/N) easily whenever he can pull the charm but his default is usually: "Haha lol u suck + ratio" while he not so subtly overheats and melts on the other side-

A/N: Also- this is the song Reader sings- I know the voice for Vox is outdated but the point is just it's his song that Reader sings lololol- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one and as always- happy reading!

youtube

You honestly didn't know if you should've expected this or not.

For someone as egotistical as Vox-

It kind of made sense that he would've straight up written his own theme song.

You only joked about it offhandedly-

Only for him to actually send you an audio file with a song he wrote and SANG.

Did he just have the file on hand or something??

You just looked up at the TV screen dumbfounded.

"I never aired it, I was just an up and coming overlord when it was made."

Came his nonchalant reply, you could only guess he shrugged but since his face was all you saw it was just a guess.

"I'll give it a listen later, you weren't finished with your story!"

"Right, where was I?"

And just like that, you both continued talking well into the night.

You'd actually almost forgotten about the audio file when Vox disconnected and bid you good night and adieu.

But seeing it in the chats when you opened your phone reminded you.

Well, it was probably cringe and you could make fun of Vox the next time around-

So you gave it a listen.

Only for the song to be pretty catchy and good.

Like the beat was stuck in your head good.

You didn't think that would've been the case at all.

And he said he didn't air this??

What the hell Vox???

Before you knew it, the darn thing ended up playing on loop more times than you would dare recall.

Too bad you couldn't include it into your playlist since that would mean having to publish it.

And you were just not ready to have that conversation with Vox yet.

Especially when it meant admitting that you liked listening to his singing.

And fuck THAT.

You absentmindedly hummed the tune on the way to university-

While you traversed between classrooms-

Even during breaks.

It only hit you that it actually was stuck in your head when you were asked about it.

"Yoooo (Y/N), what's that new bop you're listening to? It sounds pretty good from just your humming."

"Oh uh... it's a song a friend wrote. He sent it to me to... ask for my opinion!"

"Really? Can you send it to me too? I want to give it a listen!"

At least they didn't notice your awkwardness answering their question.

But because you didn't want to make it seem even weirder-

You hesitantly agreed to let your friend listen in as well.

Only for them to seriously cement what you didn't want to hear.

"Dude! They should publish this! It's a banger!"

"Eh? You think so?"

You knew the last thing Vox needed was another ego boost.

Maybe you could just keep silent about this whole thing?

"Hell yeah! What's their name?"

Or not.

Fuck.

"Of the song-?"

"The artist you goof, what does your friend call themselves? Surely they've got to be making music for a while with this experience."

Your friends had absolutely no idea you were friends with a technology demon overlord.

Even if it was their shenanigans that summoned his presence in the fucking first place!

You still couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or grateful for that fact-

What the hell were you even supposed to tell them??

"Uhhh... Vox?"

"Vox? That's a weird name. I almost thought you said 'aux', like the aux port."

You didn't notice that before, was his name actually an alias?

You weren't even surprised at this point if it was.

"Y-yeah, it's a mix of the words voice and aux! He came up with it!"

You pat yourself on the back for that bullshit reason, who cares at this point if it was right or not-

You could always just ask Vox personally later.

"Well you should ask him if we can make a music video for it!"

"Excuse me what-"

That immediately made you blank.

Did you seriously hear that right-

A fucking music video???

Problem was, you were way too deep into this conversation to back out now.

"Yeah! It would work for the music project the school's been encouraging!"

Right... the community music program your university's been doing to help spread the names of up and aspiring artists.

Problem being how in the fucking hell were you supposed to dodge a very blatant unspoken issue.

Which was the fact the song's writer and producer had been dead for DECADES.

That and you didn't even want to think of the ego boost Vox would get if you told him that your friends wanted to make a music video of his theme song.

They didn't know about him, but you were sure it would immediately go to the overlord's head.

Could this day get any worse??

"Uhhh- yeaaaah- I'll see what I can do?"

"Come on (Y/N)! You've got to at least try and convince him! This'll be a hit once it's out!"

You hated that you agreed with the fact the song most likely would be a hit.

Especially with the new rise of electro-pop.

God fucking damn it-

So that's how you found yourself pacing your living room waiting for Vox to finish with his meeting.

Well, if you guys were to make a music video anyway... might as well practice right?

Vox was a little bit concerned when you suddenly shot him a message during a meeting asking to meet up.

Especially when he couldn't really figure out what was wrong.

You seemed just fine a while ago?

Did something happen in class?

He looked back at your messages in the chat while he wracked his brain for any clues.

"Hey uh- if you're not busy I need to talk to you?"

"Why the rush doll? Miss me already?"

"In your dreams Samsung! Something came up and I need to talk to you."

"I'm in a meeting right now but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Suffice to say, he rushed the meeting so it would end quickly.

Vox didn't really even care that there were some things that still needed polishing with the presented concept.

It was a problem he could deal with later.

First, he needed to check what was wrong with you.

So you could imagine his surprise when he saw you on his feed dancing and singing.

Had you connected your computer up to the TV while waiting for him?

Vox just silently watched your antics while a familiar tune played in the background to accompany your actions.

"So I'll corrupt, manipulate, control what they see~"

Admittedly, the overlord found himself enraptured by your movements and singing.

He really couldn't help but stare as you danced around and performed to no one in particular.

If he'd only known that you would like his music sooner-

Maybe he'd have sent you more.

"I am the master of obscuring through our technology~!"

Vox didn't really think much of the song he'd sent you the other night.

A slight nervousness hit him when he was about to sleep wondering if you'd like it-

But clearly-

He didn't need to be worried at all.

"I'll sell your every single weakness back to you for a fee!"

A part of him wanted to just appear and see if you'd notice-

But the risk of cutting your performance short stopped him from going through with it.

"Don't be a fool and stand there droolin'-"

Vox couldn't help but chuckle, well-

That line was more ironic that it should've been in this situation.

"Get those Eyes. On. Me!"

His fans whirred loudly at this point, while your dance moves were quite clumsy and even random compared to more seasoned dancers-

Vox couldn't help but think you were just friggin adorable.

"Take a chance, play my game, get the rush in your veins~"

He really tried to keep his cool-

The overlord really really tried.

But he couldn't help the stupid grin on his face when he discreetly appeared on your TV.

"I'm sending out my signal download into your brain~!"

That was when he realized your eyes were closed.

It seems like whether or not he'd have appeared you wouldn't notice.

"And I'll be conquerin' the airwaves, I'm on all of your screens-"

As much as it was his theme song, Vox felt like you could rock the vibe just as well.

Which was so hilariously disconnected that he couldn't help but softly chuckle imagining it.

Well, maybe it was about time you realized he was actually here.

"So pay up motherfuckers, you belong to Vee!"

You screamed in surprise when you heard his voice from behind you.

The direction of the speaker was far enough for you to realize your digital companion appeared on the TV.

Of course he just had to join in at the last moment!

Wait-

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!"

Your face was beet red from embarrassment, he wasn't supposed to see any of that!

"Long enough, I didn't realize you liked the song that much dollface!"

You practically swore at him up and down as Vox laughed and mercilessly teased you.

He seriously could've given you any hint if he arrived!

The fucking jerk-!

"I'm not doing it for you! My friends gave a listen to your song and they want to make a music video for it!"

Vox hummed thoughtfully, he was still on his high watching you get all shy and flustered.

You were so fucking cute-

"I'll agree to it on one condition."

You were almost too scared to even ask, weighing your choices before eventually daring to inquire.

The grin the overlord gave you immediately made you regret pushing forward with it.

"Fine fine, what's the condition?"

"That you perform and sing in the music video and send it to me."

"What?! Why?!"

Vox just laughed at your expense, the fact you were practically steaming out the ears because of him was the most entertaining thing he'd seen all day.

"Why not? Can't I have a look at the final product I'm agreeing to?"

You stuttered and huffed, he had a point there.

Fucking hell....

You should've never agreed to that fucking music video!!!

"Oh shut up, you just wanna see me sing and dance."

"Not really, your performance sucked."

"Oh fuck off Vox!"

The overlord just continued to laugh at how blushy and red you got.

Maybe he did enjoy your singing and dancing.

Well, it's not like he'll ever admit it.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x you #get off my screen series

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lucky-draws · 5 months

Text

(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

#silent hill #sh2 #silent hill 2 #maria silent hill #mary shepherd sunderland #just realised you can see the cursor in some of these because i was being insane and creating these in google docs. oh well <3 #i was gonna do an art piece w like the music box doll visuals and a bit of text but then i realised i had much more than just a bit of text #so it became a whole ass letter

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carryonafi · 4 months

Text

my quiet blue tune of you.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT!! 🔞

a/n: okay now i’m getting WAY to confident with the smut but i just had this idea i needed to get out. most of these things were inspired by convos ive had with my friends and they were amazing with giving me ideas for this fic!! enjoy some hot drummer boy sex

cw: choking kink, hair pulling, recording sexual acts, a tiny tiny bit kinky ;)

words: 3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your phone was set on the closest surface possible, already filming as you shuffled around the kit and settled onto the small stance of the stool. Ashton was beaming with you sitting between his legs, like he couldn’t have been in a better position and you just about trumped every single thing he’s ever achieved with this instrument. His head ducked to your shoulder, the rogue flyaways of his curls tickling your skin which sent the reaction of goosebumps all over your body.

“Cameras rolling, babe.” You warned playfully, only getting a soft hum in response as Ashton pulled away and reached for the pair of wooden sticks resting on the snare to your left. The video would be edited on your part anyway, you loved those fans to death, but you couldn’t give them too much attention.

The sensation of your boyfriend's body wrapped around yours was so, so desiring. Body heat radiated from him through your thin top and his bare torso, arms shadowing yours as he bared the sticks in your hands. The palms of his hands were rough, but they were able to give you the most gentle touch you’d ever felt. Fuck, it made you dizzy. His hair brushed against your cheek as he peered over your shoulder to help you.

“Play by yourself a bit.” He encouraged, making you giggle at the lack of context behind the words he was saying. Ashton only missed it by a beat, but his laughter followed yours soon after. “You know what I mean.” His fingertips brushed against your right side, sending another shiver down your spine.

Hesitantly, you looked around the kit and decided to bring the drumstick down onto the floor tom on your right side. Just once or twice.

“No need to be so ginger with it.” Ashton shook his head, once again wrapping his hands over yours to direct them. He adjusted your position a bit and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, the soft beat of his heart and it just about made you sleepy. They say that when you’re with someone you love that these… endorphins release that make you all sleepy and warm, that was exactly how you were feeling. You barely registered Ashton’s voice. “Wanna play anything specific?”

“Teach me…” You paused, letting your head drop back against his shoulder to get the best look at him you could. “Jet Black Heart.” Confidence. That was very much what you wanted. He gave you a soft smile before blessing your temple with a peck of his lips, letting the kiss linger for a moment before you sat back up and let him guide your movement.

“Push your foot down on the pedal for me.” Ashton ordered in such a soft manner that it didn’t even sound like a direction, a suggestion that you were obligated to take from your trance. You did just that, bringing your foot down, but it barely made a sound. “With force, (Y/N). You can’t be gentle.” He corrected, making you sigh and ponder. These drums were meant to be beaten, meant to be abused into beautiful symphonies that you could only create with melodic and rough raps. You stomped down a bit harder, the boom was halted because of the soundproof walls of the basement — but it made a sound.

“Ohh!” You hummed in amusement, tapping the pedal a couple more times and smiling at the sounds it made.

“See? Sounds better, doesn't it?” Ashton rubbed your sides as you nodded, tilting your head slightly to get a look at him… and snuck a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“Mmhm.” You made a sound like an affirmative, waiting for his next direction that could make your heart flutter, and it did. He whispered to cross your arms, slowly guiding your hands while he told you when to push on the pedal. Almost everything you did was under his control, his heartbeat accompanied with yours and the sound of the drums ricocheting in your ears. The wooden sticks felt like they could slip out of your hands at any moment, you were so weak from his touch but so amazed at how easily he made this all seem. When he finished showing you the beginning, he played it all in one and turned to look towards the camera. A 2 minute video, that would be enough for them, right? Once again, you marveled in amazement at how the drums sounded.

“You’re a professional now, you should take my place.” Ashton let go of your hands, giving you the freedom to beat around on the drums a bit longer. No particular pattern in mind, only tapping away on the hi-hat to achieve that hissing sound that you always loved. However, you frowned when it didn’t work out the way you intended. Not the right part.

“Maybe not so much.” You turned back to Ashton again, staring straight into those dilated pupils and blown out hazel irises. Pure love. Pure love was all you could see and you knew you were mirroring that right back to him. His arm snuck around your waist, smiling sweetly as he hovered over your lips for a moment. Now this was what you were looking for, your hands had a mind of their own as you set down the drumsticks and cupped both of his cheeks. Your lips met soon, the pads of your thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones and index fingers tracing the rough of his sideburns. He hummed against your closed mouth, and you melted. Melted into lovely mush because of your adoration for this man, how easy it was for him to be the way that he was and charm with no effort at all. The noise just made you wanton, that kiss turned into lips parting and sliding against each other as the enticing sound of you pulling away made you dizzy each time. Your heart started to pound, arousal started to pool as you felt Ashton’s grip on your waist become tighter.

“Ash.” You sighed dreamily, hands sliding back to the rogue curls which rested on the nape of his neck right above that beloved tattoo. “The camera.” The tone you spoke in was slow, it almost sounded far away because you were so enthralled by the beginning of this make-out session.

“You’re gonna cut it, aren’t you?” Ashton asked quite rhetorically as he continued his journey along the point of your jawline, gasping as he bared his teeth against the sensitive skin of your pulse point. “Keep it on, save a little bit for yourself. Don’t have t’show anyone.” His words were muffled against your flesh, each syllable like a slow puff of loving smoke against you and further shaking your need.

“Mm.. ‘kay.” You huffed in defeat, shuddering as you felt him smile to your throat. The position you were in was quite uncomfortable, still twisting your body to meet his. Ashton took notice of this quickly, tapping your thigh and motioning for you to sit up so you could get more comfortable. Every little thing came so easy to him, it was beyond you. Within seconds, you were perched atop his lap with your feet placed firmly on the ground with the height of the drum stool.

“Fuckin’ perfect, you are.” Ashton’s hands wandered your body, calloused fingertips gliding along your hips and stomach as your top had ridden up slightly. Just enough to make him hungry. The instant change in his attitude made you stir, the sweetness from earlier had shifted into possession and you could see it in his eyes. Large pupils dark with lust and need, despite every act he put on he could never hide that desperation for you. This realization made you giggle, bumping your nose with his as you leaned in for another kiss.

“Mh. Love you.” You spoke like a secret, kissing him once in expectation for him to repeat it.

“Love you more. So much more, my girl.” Suddenly your heart soared again, the fuzzy feeling in your chest made you bold enough to drag your nails down his chest as your lips met for the hundredth time within the last 5 minutes. It was so soft, but so needy, so slow. You never understood the term “love drunk” until you shared everything with Ashton, he could never fail to make your heart flutter like he was kissing you for the first time again. Like he was touching you for the first time again, sharing hushed whispers of your three favorite words for the first time again, it was so magical. You were convinced that this would never go away, the honeymoon phase would last your entire relationship and that was the way it should be.

Now, you were growing much more impatient. Your hips began to slowly rock into Ashton’s and the friction had him sighing gratefully, giving you the perfect opportunity to slide your tongue over his bottom lip with a need to push this further.

“Greedy.” He laughed as your hips collided again, his voice cut off in a groan.

“Only for you.” You replied, grinning victoriously as he returned the favor and gripped your hips, dragging you down against him. A gasp passed your lips, the smile never faltering as the sultry tone dripped from your sounds. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah?” The implications made you weak, nodding desperately. “I’ll give you what you want.” Ashton leaned in to continue what he was doing before, placing those kisses to your throat which felt harsh but so loving. Marks would be left behind, but ones that would only fade within a short amount of time. He would always give in, you were too good to pass up and he only played those games when he really wanted to.

His fingertips came into contact with your skin again, feeling over the dips of your sides and waist, cherishing you like this was the last chance he’d get to ever touch you. Momentarily, everything around you went quiet. No background noise, no fabric shuffling, just the soft kisses and sounds of Ashton’s lips traveling every inch your neck. You could hear the pounding of your own heart in your ears, tangling your fingers in his thick, fluffy curls as you sighed and breathed, every sound heavy with arousal. His hands inching towards the soft elastic of your pajamas, touch sending goosebumps rippling throughout your body. It was so much, but never too much. Never enough.

“Help me out, here.” Ashton murmured against your skin, muffled by your body. You obliged immediately, without hesitation as you knew exactly what he was asking. You shuffled around, lifting your hips so he could push off the material and expose you to those eyes. Those dark eyes, completely overtaken with lust. “Mm. I figured.” He hummed, seeing you completely bare underneath. You let out another soft laugh, music to his ears just like the music he created.

“You should know me by now.” Your voice came in an awful suggestive tone, the fabric of his pants now pressed to your bare core. “I like easy access.”

“Do you, now?” Ashton whispered, pressing wet kisses on your breasts as you kneaded your hands in his hair. “I suppose I trained you well.” He hummed into your curves, making you gasp as he gripped your thighs to move you closer and instead creating friction which felt much more intense due to there being a layer of clothing lost.

“I want you so bad, please — I know you want me too.” You breathed, shuddering as your hips met again which finally elicited a groan from Ashton.

“Why have you got to be so damn irresistible?” He cursed, sucking in a breath as your hands went to his sweats to do the same thing he had done to you. You both were eager, too eager to put in the effort and take them off all the way. Ashton was lifting your hips within seconds of you watching his cock spring free of the confines, your breath getting caught in your throat as if this was your first time. From the most innocent scenarios to times like this, there wasn’t a moment where you didn’t feel anxious butterflies or that familiar swirling in your head.

His fingertips dug into your flesh, creating that tightening sensation in your chest as he whispered soft praise against your neck. The way he eased you down, rubbing your hips yet roughly gripping your thighs and feeling his frame tremble beneath your own as you took his length told you that this sweetness wasn’t going to last long. The only thing you could do was let your hands go right back up to his hair, disheveled in the most gorgeous way ever imaginable. You breathed out a satisfied sigh, listening as Ashton echoed you and added more loving encouragement.

“Feel so good, baby. Look at me, come on, dear… wanna see those beautiful eyes.” The comment made you blush, but regardless of his command your head tilted back as you closed your eyes. The pleasure was all too much and you had barely done anything, this position was something different. Your internal guess of how long this loving act was going to go on for had been proven right, feeling the loss of his hand on your thigh as he instead gripped your throat. You gasped, a strangled whine tearing past your closed off throat.

“I told you to fucking look at me.” Ashton’s voice was husky and hot between you, the tone sending a shiver down your spine. Your own hand went to grab at his wrist, and it was then you noticed how tight his hold was on you. It made you dizzy, dizzy with arousal and dizzy from the fact that he was somehow safely blocking your windpipes enough to make you obey without question. Your eyes were locked onto his as you rolled your hips, watching Ashton’s eyelids flutter and his kiss-swollen lips part to let out a moan of his own.

“Fuck..” You said softly, eyes widening as both of his hands got tighter on you.

“Watch that mouth.” He said simply, and you knew right then and there to let him take over. Your body submitted completely, simply taking in the feeling of his hips lifting from the drum stool with ease and your own weight on top of him. You no longer needed to have a brain, you could let Ashton fuck you mindless and you knew he’d be satisfied.

Between the soft grunts and growls that he made and your own restrained moans, there were the sounds of skin and friction. It felt like heaven as he lost all self control, relentlessly fucking up into you with a hand on your throat to keep your gaze on his muted green irises. However, you could see that this position was getting pretty hard to keep up with. The line of frustration between his eyebrows and the sweat collecting in those curls that hung over his forehead, you tried to get his attention.

“Switch — bend me over.” You gasped, hoping your babbling made enough sense to him. It did, watching his strong chest rise and fall with each labored breath he took as he let go of your throat. You gratefully took in a deep breath, not getting to enjoy it much before Ashton firmly patted your thigh.

“Up.” He said without any elaboration needed, pushing yourself off of him with a quiet sound before standing up. He followed in your actions quickly, towering over you, bodies almost touching… you weren’t kept waiting any longer. Ashton’s arm wrapped around you, roughly fastening his grip on your waist as he spun you around and forced you down. This was not very steady, not at all. Your hands were placed on the high toms of his drum kit, which were not at all attached to anything stable. Not that you had to completely rely on it, since Ashton’s arm was all the way around you keeping you close.

“I’ve got you, I got you.” His other hand traced your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake just as he braced himself and passed easily through your folds. Another desperate sound escaped you, trying to not put too much pressure on your hands and potentially knock something over. Ashton quickly built up his pace again, his hand slowly making its way up your back again before taking your hair with one sharp tug. This had you crying out his name, fingertips grazing against the material.

“Gonna cum. All over your fuckin’ back.” He rasped, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. “Wanna see you covered. All mine.” Ashton rambled possessively, making your thighs shake with need to finally be brought over the edge.

“Please? Please — I…” Your words were cut off with a silent moan, closing your eyes to watch those shapes drift across your vision. You tightened around him, you could feel it because of the way Ashton had tried to speed up and keep his pace regulated. The orgasm that washed over you made him fail to keep composure, quickly pulling out of you and doing just as he had promised. Your ass and lower back painted in his cum, one beautiful sight Ashton couldn’t tear his eyes away from. You both panted and slowly collected your consciousness, unable to hold yourself on these drums much longer. Ashton felt your struggle, guiding you into a standing position with your back against his torso. Both of his arms snaked around you comfortably, warm, large hands on either side of you to remind you just where you were.

“That’s gonna be fun to watch.” He mumbled against your neck, pressing those open mouthed kisses to the hickeys he had left with pride and affectionately roughing up your skin with the stubble adorning his cheek. Once your eyes opened again, you looked over at your phone still set up on the desk nearby.

“Mm, I dunno. That whole “bending me over the drum kit” thing didn’t work as well as I thought it would.” You mused, leaning your head to the left to feel his sweaty hair against your skin. However, you didn’t regret one bit of that.

“I made it work, though. Didn’t I?” Ashton nuzzled your neck, making you laugh breathlessly as he tickled your skin. “You’ve got some weird fantasies.” He added.

“And you have only just scratched the surface.”

——

(some more cutie pics of ash to imagine for this one🤗)

#5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos one shot #5sos smut #5sos x reader #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut #5sos

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