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astroluvbug · 2 years

Text

MEANT TO BE, rafe cameron

✶ synopsis: when rafe notices a girl at school he’s never seemed to have noticed before rafe falls for her like he never has for any girl before

✶ warnings: none!

✶ a/n: hi! this is my first fic im posting on here… i’ve had it in my drafts for a while so i decided to stop being a scaredy cat and post it, idk if im gonna do a part two tho so yeah :)

rafe sighed opening his locker placing his bag in closing the locker and leaning against it as he pulling his phone out.

"rafe!" the boy looked up from his phone to see his two best friends.

"sup man" kelce grinned doing their usual hand shake.

"hey we gotta get to class" topper spoke after he greeted rafe after doing their hand shake.

"yeah yeah we know" rafe laughed along with kelce as they started walking down the hall towards their first class of the day.

"good morning everyone hope you all enjoyed your summer" ms. smith spoke as she looked as her class full of tired students the truly did not want to be here.

"now, i know that you're all tired from summer break…” the teachers voice was quickly blocked out of rafes hearing as he pulled out his phone.

after the the classroom phone started to ring the teacher stepped out of the class as rafe placed his phone down looking up.

only to see the girl i front of him turned around towards him.

"do you have a pencil?" she asked.

rafe being rafe sat there gazing at her completely in his own world.

"hello?" a voice snapped him out of it, he blinked.

"um yeah here" he spoke his voice higher then it usually is handing her the pencil that was in his hand.

"thanks" she smiled before turning around making rafe sigh at the disappearance of her face from his vision.

"hey do you guys know who she is?"

rafe spoke from the kook boys table as they all sat in silence who rafe looked at the table outside the large window where y/n sat by herself.

"who her?" topped looked where rafe had pointed.

“i think her name is y/n” the two looked towards kelce “i’ve seen her around but she never talks to anyone, not like they’d want too”

“what do you mean?” rafe raised an eyebrow.

“she’s basically a pouge, but mr. whitemore is her grandfather do he pays for her to go here” kelce contented before drinking some water.

“so she’s a pouge living off her grandfather” topper scoffed “pathetic”

"yeah" rafe spoke out of instinct looking down at his food to pick up a fry before looking back up at her.

the cameron boy now sat in his final class of the day, art.

as much as he hated it he didn't have a choice seeing as he needed to take at least one art class to graduate next year and he wanted to just get it over with even though most of his friends were going to wait til last minute.

he usually sat in the class on his phone and paid no attention to the class but since he barely passed the tenth grade with his marks he decided on leaving his phone in his pocket, actually putting an effort into trying to listen as he walked to his class.

now sitting in the back of the class at one of the many tables, the class was waiting for the teacher to start the class.

“is this seat taken?” a voice came from beside him.

rafe looked up from his hands he’d been staring at for the last 5 minutes trying to pass time, looking up he quickly recognized who it was.

“uh yeah” rafe quickly snapped out of it and corrected embarrassed himself “i mean, no but yeah you could sit here”

you’re so stupid, rafe though about himself

“o-okay thanks” y/n smiled placing her bag on the floor beside her chair as the teacher walked into the class.

“good afternoon class, i’m sure you’re all happy the days almost over, but it isn’t yet so let’s get started”

after y/n, rafe and the class had to through their art teacher for the semester ‘ms. peonie’ and her very long speech she assigned them to do a small sketch of something they had with them on hand.

rafe first thought was to draw the disposable he had sitting in his pocket but quickly reminding himself he was in class he pulled his airpods case out instead and started to sketch them on the peace of paper that he was given.

glancing at y/n out of the corner of his eye he watched as she so gracefully drew the beaded bracelet she’d slipped of her wrist apart from the hundreds of other ones she had on.

he watched as she gently drew the bracelet so skillfully like it was a stroll down the street, while rafe’s drawing looked something along the lines of a beat up potato.

sighing he looked up at the clock the sat on top of the doorway.

seeing there was 5 minutes left before class ended, rafe placed his pencil down on the table and leaned back as he moved his gaze back towards y/n drawing again, which had almost been finished.

“that’s amazing” rafe blurted without thinking.

y/n turned her head towards rafe timidly “this?” the girl laughed at her drawing a she locked back at it.

“yeah, i mean it least it do look like mine” the cameron boy chuckled as he watched y/n look towards him.

“you have the right idea..” y/n said as she took in the drawing “you just need to actually try” she giggled looking back at rafe.

“i tried?” rafe tried to reason with y/n.

“no you didn’t” y/n playfully rolled her eyes placing her pencil down noticing the time.

“i did!” the cameron boy exclaimed lowly grinning completely forgetting about the clock he was watching a couple of minutes ago.

“you didn’t, you took 7 minutes to draw it then stared at the clock” she chuckled.

rafe bit his bottom lip and looked back up at the girl surprising himself “yeah, i uh” he stuttered for once in his life “maybe”

before y/n could reply to rafe the school bell blushed through out the school.

“well maybe next es class you could actually try” y/n giggled before grabbing her bag and taking if before rafe come say anything else.

tomorrow rafe spoke to himself grinning for the first time in a long time.

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aromanticbuck · 2 years

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i’m the same as i was (it’s all okay)

just a little drabble because I’ve desperately needed to get an idea like this out of my system since 9x19 aired, and maybe it will get my writing juices flowing so I can work on a bigger project. an AU of the scene with Jay and Kevin at The Donovan, because I did not give Mouse rich parents to not make jokes about canon plotlines with them. it’s basically just a bunch of dialogue so I can get this thought out, not by any means an actual fic.

title taken from all my love by noah kahan.

“Why are you staring at those people?”

“Hmm...?”

“Jay. There are fifteen other rich couples here. Maybe don’t draw too much attention to us by only fixating on one.”

He blinked and pulled his eyes away from the table at the window, though not for very long, the familiar faces there not sparing him a single glance while he frowned to himself. He hadn’t moved from his spot leaning against the bar since he found it, oddly comfortable despite the fact that the last time he’d been in that building had been almost a decade before, and it had been a very miserable experience. “Right. Sorry. I’m paying attention.”

“I hope so. We’re supposed to be working, here, man.”

“What did I miss? When I was, you know, totally paying attention.”

“The kid’s getting us the security footage so we can bring it back to the district and- You’re still staring.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“You are. That’s super rude, by the way, and you’re probably going to make them angry.”

“Good.”

“You know what? I don’t want to know what you have against all these rich people. I’m going to go back to working. I won’t tattle on you for screwing around.”

“I don’t have anything against all these rich people. Just them.”

“Keep your weird drama to yourself. I don’t need to be dragged into it.”

Jay hummed a non-committal response, his gaze shifting over to the door when the bell rang to signal it opening. The new arrival was another familiar face, another pair of blue eyes that didn’t even look in his direction, too focused on making over to the table by the window. Not that was any of his business.

“I didn’t know Mouse was back in Chicago.”

“You have to know what articles to read.”

“So, when you said Gerwitz, you meant...?”

“Yup. Those ones.”

“Are we going to go say hi?”

“You’re welcome to. It’s probably for the best if I stay over here.”

“Does that have anything to do with why you’ve been staring at their table for the last ten minutes?”

“They hate my guts. The feeling is mutual. It’s old news.”

“Okay, well...” Letting out a slow breath, Kevin’s voice was careful when he spoke again, the topic making it clear exactly why. “We’re looking for someone here that could have been running tech for our guy, right? Someone with those connections and computer know how. I hate to say it, but I think we’re looking at a pretty good lead.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I think you’re right. Just... let me do the talking.” Still frowning, Jay pushed himself away from the bar to stand up straight. It put him in the right position to walk forward, his badge hanging around his neck in full view while he approached the table.

The movement drew three pairs of eyes toward him, and only one of them held any level of recognition, along with a little panic. It made sense, considering the emotions rolling in his stomach, the angry heat that had lived there any time he thought of the people in front of him for so long. Before he even made it close enough to say anything, Mouse was getting up again, trying to put his body between his parents and his friends.

“Jay, don’t-”

“To you, right now, it’s detective. Do you a minute to answer a few questions for us? We’ll try not to take too long.”

"Really? You’re staging this like a case? That doesn’t make it better.”

“We have reason to believe that someone who frequents this establishment is involved in the murder we’re investigating. Specifically, someone with computer skills. You happen to fit that description very well, Mr. Gerwitz. So, can we have a minute to ask you a couple questions before you get back to your afternoon?”

There was a beat of quiet, heavy with a kind of defeat in the air, and he almost got a response before they were interrupted by a voice he’d very nearly managed to forget the sound of.

“Gregory, dear, don’t answer a single one of this officer’s questions until we call the lawyer. What did you say your name was again? I’ll get your superior on the phone while we’re at it.”

Jay bit his tongue to keep from snapping back at her, putting on his usual neutral expression he employed specifically for the interrogation room. “I was barely an officer the last time we were here, Thelma. I made detective years ago. And I thought we established even before then that I’m perfectly capable of looking after your son even when you won’t.”

“Oh. Halstead. It’s you.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the greeting I was anticipating.”

“Okay.” There was no hesitation, this time, a hand grabbing him by the arm to pull him toward the door, and he went without putting up a fight. “Let’s go before you cause a scene.”

“I’m not causing a-”

“You’re either using a fake case to try to cause a scene, or you’re using a real case to try to cause a scene, and I don’t know which is worse.”

“She started it!”

“We can’t have one good meal in this place without any trouble, can we? Seriously, Jay, it’s not funny.”

The sun was bright when they stepped outside, and he frowned while glancing back over his shoulder. The door to the club closed, and they weren’t anywhere private, but it was actually just the two of them in their space for the first time in more than five years.

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“Great, because I was already running late and getting shit for it. So can I go back to lunch, please, before I actually can’t come back here ever again?”

“That depends. Do you have a minute to answer a couple of questions about the case I’m working?”

“Oh my god...”

“What? Suddenly I’m not allowed to do my job?”

“You just antagonized my mother in public!”

“As opposed to doing it in private? No. We’d have fewer witnesses when I have to defend myself.”

“Yeah, that’s why we came out here before you started throwing punches.”

“I wouldn’t have thrown punches.”

“But you were prepared to. If the situation called for it.”

“Well, sometimes, your mother calls for it.”

“I’m well aware that you aren’t her biggest fan, Jay. I’m not, either, but I’m kind of trying to stay employed, and keep a roof over my head, and right now, that involves putting up with lunch here once a week. Believe me, it’s awful, and I hate it, but at least I can keep the discussion away from my love life when it’s just me on the other side of the table.”

“Right, because it’s somehow my fault that they jumped to conclusions last time.”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it. And we both know you weren’t just doing your job in there.”

“Well, no, I wasn’t just doing my job. Antagonizing your mother added a little fun to the whole murder thing we’re trying to solve. Even you have to admit, the look on her face when she realized it was me was kind of funny.”

“It wasn’t-”

“Not even a little bit? She did the lip thing, right? Like she was trying to hold back a comment about us again. That was pretty funny.”

“Stop it. I can’t laugh right now. I’m mad at you.”

“No, you’re not. I just gave you the perfect opportunity to get out of a shitty lunch with your parents. There really is a case, you know. And I know you had nothing to do with it. But they don’t know that I know that.”

“How does that get me out of lunch?”

“Say you’re coming down to the district so we can hold you while you wait for your lawyer. You did just put your hands on a detective, and my badge was very visible. You can help us solve the case, while you’re at it.”

“...everyone’s going to make fun of me for wearing a suit. I just got out of a meeting like half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, I think Kev was already taking pictures to send back to everyone. It’s too late to be embarrassed.”

“I hate you so much.”

“You can keep complaining in the car. Do you want me to put you in cuffs to play it up?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, detective.”

“Good to see you haven’t changed a bit, Mouse.”

#cpd #one chicago #jay halstead #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #chicago pd #kevin atwater #thelma gerwitz #alex writes things #me: it's a drabble not a full fic #the 'drabble' in question: 1.5k #oops?#anyway i've been thinking about something like this since 9x19 aired so #here is this thrown together nonsense #jay should be allowed to fight thelma

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cafecourage · 1 year

Note

You said you wanted some more streamer au? Well, here you go! I’m bored in class (I already did my assignment, I’m not being irresponsible) and don’t wanna start my homework early. This is much more fun. It’s a lot of dialogue, though, which isn’t my strong suit. Warning: long ask

It took the other boys a little bit longer than Sky to recognize Pinky and Enno’s voices, since for them it had been longer since their adventures, but they eventually realized that those two were the voices they’d been hearing in their heads.

Sky is about to start airing his grievances when Wind pipes up “wait a second! if you’re Enno, and you’re Pinky, then where did all of the other chatter come from? Since apparently you’ve been in all of our heads?”

Enno takes the chance to draw the topic of conversation away from Sky and gestures to everyone sitting at the tables. “That’s them. This is the first time we’ve all been in the same city, so we decided to have an in-person meet up at my cafe.”

Sky’s eye is still twitching as he looks around the room, trying to figure out which of these people were the ones who used to dare him to jump off the side of the island, when Wild pipes up.

“Hold on a sec. Which one of you is Glitter? I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

A blonde girl who’d been silently laughing at the exchange from her seat suddenly looks up after hearing her name. “That’s me.” She raises an eyebrow, “why a bone to pick with me, specifically?”

Wild stares at her exasperatedly, “you’re a HORRIBLE cook. Goddesses above, not even I could make something decent with the things you put in that stir fry of yours!”

The room erupts into laughter, and Glitter laughs so hard she falls out of her chair and onto the floor. After a minute, she stands up abruptly and looks him in the eye, “the stir fry is a joke. I’m actually a pretty good cook when I’m not playing around.”

Wild looks like he doesn’t believe her, but then Legend asks who the hell is Bee. Suddenly all the Links take an interest in the rest of the conversation. Bee raises a hand, “I’m Bee.”

“So then *you’re* the one who counted all my missteps?! For years?!” Legend asks, irritation palpable.

“Yes, but it looks like *you’re* injured. What is that? 27 as of your last count?”

Wars grabs Legend’s arm and prevents him from hitting Bee while Enno grabs a first aid kit from the back. It suddenly becomes apparent to the Cafe group that the Links are all sporting one injury or another.

“Hey, Enno!” Pinky calls, “come disinfect this cut above Sky’s eye. I thought it was a scar earlier, but it looks pretty bad, and I don’t want it to get infected.”

“W-why me? Why don’t you do it?” Enno asks, knowing what Pinky is up to and trying to avoid having to get that close to the love of their life Sky.

“Because Pinky needs to come bandage this gash on Twi’s arm!” Glitter calls mercilessly from the other side of the room. She’d somehow managed to bully Twilight and Hyrule into showing her the cuts they’d had hidden under their sleeves while Softie went to grab some more bandages.

- glitter ✨

THE STRFRYYYYYY AHHHHH

Wind would hate me because I love my son and man when i streamed that game-

Thank you glitter for more of this au I love this concept but hate it at the same time.

#twilight (not lu) speaks #for those who dont know we are going through Skyward again.#funfetti cake

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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Anytime, Son

Summary: Otto gets honest with Carter

Pairings: Otto X Carter

Rating: 😭😭

Warnings: language, mild mentions o domestic abuse, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.8K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Otto Baizen Masterlist

Otto stares blankly at his computer screen. Ten thousand things running through his head, but the biggest was why his dad had called him into his office for a meeting. He’s pretty sure it has everything to do with Brooks, and he knows he’s wrong.

Tried to be short and cold to Annie. Tried to push the smiles and thoughts away, but he was struggling. It makes sense for him to stay away, but he enjoyed her smile. Enjoyed the way that she thought, and even her way of telling stories. He was fascinated beyond the average month long girls he usually kept. He had known her his whole life, and still he wanted to know more.

Checking the clock, he readies himself to meet with Carter. Carter hates tardiness as much as he hates being away from Story too long. Nearly dragging his feet, he opens the large double doors, sitting in front of his dad’s desk. Getting a bit sad when he sees his dad has still never removed the scuffed up little table for him and his siblings.

While Carter was on the phone, he looks around his second home. Had been coming here since he was five, and his dad started his own company. Random crude drawings on the walls, that him and his siblings thought Carter wouldn’t notice. He did, but they were never painted over. Even pictures of each of them. A hand painted pink rose behind Carter’s desk, that was always his dad’s favorite.

Even a large family photo, and Otto has to look away from the photo of Brooks on his back, both boys smiling large with their braces on. Brooks always did want to be just like him.

Carter ends the call and walks over to his desk, giving his son a smile, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you man to man, and seeing how you’ve been putting in some extra hours, this seemed like the only option,” Otto leans down further into his chair nearly guessing where this conversation is going.

“I spoke to your brother this morning.”

“Dad, it’s not what he thinks.”

Carter raises an eyebrow at him, taking a slow sip of his coffee, “He said you came and visited him and stayed a few days. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“The reason why I mentioned it, a few reasons, I want to thank you. Brookie has been working a lot of hours at the division, and he’s feeling alone. You and him being so close, I figured you felt something and wanted to see him. Your mom and I are taking the girls, well the three little ones. Iclynn and Illiana have their SATs while we’re gone and need to stay, and I would like if you stayed with them.”

“Iclynn is eighteen.”

“And and Illiana is seventeen. I’m well aware of my daughters’ ages, son. I just don’t like them to be alone. They don’t want to go to anyone’s house, they want to be at home. Illiana has a new boyfriend and Iclynn has…an Arlo. The boys can come over, but they’re not to be left alone. Can I trust you with that?”

Otto sighs, nodding his head. He could use an excuse to go home. Working extra hours because he wasn’t entertaining any women. He wasn’t right in his mind, and he felt nothing when a pretty girl smiled at him.

“Has Brooks said anything to you? Your mom is thinking he’s been acting odd. Not returning her calls and my mother left Story a voicemail saying he came to visit and wanted to know where Archer and Iclynn were,” Otto rolls his eyes. Hating anything that has to do with Lydia Baizen. “I don’t want him talking to that woman. She’s…”

“Dad, I know how Lydia is. She’s desperate, and Brooks is seeking approval.”

“He has it. Papa even offered to help get him some client established. Papa is retired and wants to lounge with Mimi. He refused. I’m asking again, has Brooks told you anything?”

“Annie has,” Carter folds his hand in his lap, taking a calming breath, knowing a pretty redhead would have gotten Otto’s attention. “Don’t give me that look. Annie seems to think Brooks was basically sent out there to fail. That no one is helping him. He’s creating unnecessary stress for himself, and creating a toxic environment for her.”

“What do you mean toxic?”

“He expects her to do everything at the apartment. And she goes along because, he pays the bills. She knows she could never afford that apartment. And, I saw him drink. He drank a lot. Like frat boy drinking. He’s also been working late everyday.”

“Starting up a division isn’t easy.”

“He’s got a girlfriend at home. Did you work late when you started your company from the ground up? Or did you come home to see mom, me, and Zephyr? Yeah, you worked from home some, but this is a new division not a new company. He has someone at home he claims he loves. And the division isn’t getting done any faster, so why is he working late?”

“Why don’t you say what you think? Because you’re speaking with a lot of anger, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he had with you. What happened?”

Otto settles back in his chair, shaking his head, “Nothing.”

“How’s your coffee shop doing?”

“Fine.”

“We’re resulting to one syllable answers. I appreciate your candor, son.”

Otto sits staring idly at a photo of his parents, laying on Story’s bed, her hair sprawled out around them, while the two of them have the biggest smiles he’d ever seen, gazing at each other. This was a picture before the dark days, as his mom called it. Young, and completely in love.

“How did you know mom was the one?”

Carter’s eyes flick to the picture in question, her white rose necklace still around her neck, and her diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. The diamonds shining off of it, while her hand holds softly to his cheek.

“When nothing else mattered, but her. Are you falling in love Mr. Month and Move Along?” Otto gives a shrug, knowing no matter what he felt, it didn’t matter. “Your mom, she was the first person to see me. I’ll admit Papa and Mimi were always there, but Story Drysdale, she saw me. She always saw me. Even as a kid, she knew more about me than anyone ever cared to learn. She saw scratches from Lydia on my arm. Even some bruising from her, I lied, because here was this kid that saw these marks from that vile woman, and no one else saw them. Everyone thinks your mom is spoiled, but in so many ways she’s selfless. Because I come before her.”

Otto looks up at his dad, trying to hold the tears at bay, listening to how much his parents still adored one another. “She sacrificed ten years of her body to give us our family. Sacrificed so much happiness because all she wanted was to be with me. I wouldn’t be here without her. I’d have been dead a long time ago, because she gives me a reason to live. The reason I smile. Why have you always been afraid of love?”

“Remember when I went snooping in your office. Found your file on Andy and the sperm donor?” that was something Carter had hoped Otto would never see. Him and Story had almost created a fairytale lie about Otto’s biological father, and he learned the truth all through pictures and police reports.

“Did he ever love mom?”

“I can’t answer that. I think he loved the idea of her more.”

“Andy was abusive to Mimi. Dayton was abusive to mom. So what if I’m abusive to someone? You and Papa both said things started out fine with them. And the longer they were together the worse the abuse got. I’m with them a month, and as soon as the new wears off, I’m done. But what if I’m with them a year or more, and I start hurting them?”

“You couldn’t.”

“How do you know?” Otto’s tears burst through his lashes, and he’s unable to stop them. “How do you know that I won’t hurt a woman?”

“Because you’re mine,” Otto goes to shaking his head, and Carter stands, walking around his desk to hold his son’s face against his stomach. “Yes you are. Remember how I told you that you wouldn’t kick for Dayton? I touched you one time, and you never quit. He might be the reason you’re here, but you are mine. Always were. You never met that bastard. Never had any of his influence. I don’t regret you. I regret I didn’t intervene sooner. I regret that he ever touched your mother. But I don’t regret what had to happen. You have one of the kindest hearts. You’ve never raised your hands or even your voice to your mother, to your sisters, Mimi, Ellie, cousins, aunts. You are Otto Ransom Baizen, my son. Mine.”

“Dad, I’m scared,” scared of being like his family, and scared of falling for Annie. A girl who isn’t his, and a girl that was in an unhappy relationship with his brother.

“I know. And this…this is your big boy problems. One that I can’t fully help you with. But know, I love you. Your mom loves you. I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t love.”

Otto stifles a laugh, finally leaning off his dad, and he reaches for some tissue. “You okay?”

“Not really. Nothing makes sense right now.”

Carter looks around his office, trying to think of something. Anything. “Wanna take the house in the Hamptons for a week?” Otto only shrugs, trying to think of anyway to change the subject.

“Being by yourself helps you clear your mind. Take some time off. Do some soul searching. Preferably, after you make sure your sisters stay out of trouble. Can you do that?”

Otto intakes a hissing breath, “I don’t know, your butterfly and firefly are about ready to take on the world.”

“Please, don’t say that.”

“Illiana’s already making a name for herself on social media. Has all these boys that follow her. They’re wilder than I have ever thought about being.”

“That’s it, you’re grounded. Why the hell would you put thoughts like that in my head? Keep the liquor cabinet locked, and I’m taking the keys to my garage and the wine cellar. I’ve change my mind, Arlo and what’s-his-name, Scott something.”

“Lang.”

“Neither allowed. Just you, and my butterfly and firefly. I have half a mind to take all the caffeine.”

Otto gives his dad a big smile, starting to stand and leave, “Thanks dad.”

“Anytime, son.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives au #desperate lives #desperate verse #da au #dau #Otto Baizen #Carter Baizen #Carter x Otto

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skvaderarts · 2 years

Text

Petrichor Chapter 24: Artist

Chapter 24: Artist

Note: Hi everyone! Hope you’re all doing well! Was it hot where all of you live today, too, or was that just me? Texas, man. This is the only place I’ve ever lived where it’s been hot in October. I know we're not there just yet, but damn. Close enough. SMH.

(-~-)

In a small room off to the side of the living area was a tiny office, every wall crammed with storage units and plastic tubs that had been stacked as neatly as the limited service space would allow. Many of them were tilting in a manner that implied that they might slide over onto the floor soon, but the space was tidy either way. For now.

A glance around the small room was all it took to find art supplies scattered everywhere. On the desk in the middle of the space were several adjustable wooden reference figures and stacks of different types of paper and canvas. Paint brushes, pens, markers, pencils, charcoal. There were no shortage of mediums available, but they all seem to pertain to either canvas or paper, her choice of medium apparent without even seeing any of her works.

On the corner of the desk farthest from the light was an old box that looked as though it might contain a vintage camcorder or something of the like if the strap hanging out of it and the stack of vintage lenses were anything to go by. A few photos were hung on the wall, but none of them contained people. Animals and all forms of nature were on display ranging from lush forests and winding rivers to cows in fields and dogs playing in the mud, but it seemed that people were not of interest to her. She could have fooled him. But perhaps when it came to her art it was a different story.

She walked into the room only a few seconds behind him, heading to a small bookshelf in the corner nearest to the doorway. It was only then that he even noticed it was there since it was facing away from him on the opposite side of the wall, catching sight of a blend of colorful papers at the top and the menagerie of canvases at the bottom. He realized rather quickly that this was probably the place where she stored her works once they were finished. Or at least somewhat finished. A few of them seem to be half done but he was actually having a bit of a hard time making out all the different shapes and colors He needed to focus on something in particular.

And as if she knew this, she grabbed a sketchbook off of the shelf and folded it open, flipping through a few of the images until she landed upon one that she seemed to think he would enjoy, taking a deep breath in order to calm herself. This clearly took a lot of courage on her part, and he silently wondered if there was something to that.

It was clear that she was wondering if he would like what she was going to offer to show him. He doubted that he would hate it, but he wondered all the same whether or not she was shy to show him her art because she thought it was bad or because she thought he would think it was. He wondered why she cared about his approval. Perhaps it was just a part of human nature? He didn't seek the approval of…

Oh.

"These are some of my most recent projects. They're my best work so far. Hopefully… I hope they're not terrible. And you like them." She said as she handed him the notebook, the drawing she had picked on the top. He turned the notebook around with a nod before staring at the picture, taking it in for a moment before flipping to the next. And to say that he was surprised would be an understatement.

Beautiful illustrations of the natural world covered every page, charcoal and graphite being the primary tools used to achieve the look she desired. The lines were clearly defined and purposeful, and the blending was top-notch, smooth and precise. She had clearly put in many long hours to achieve this look. It was the sort of thing that only came from a lifetime of practice and a steady hand; time and technique paying off in spades. And while it was not perfect or even the best art that he had ever seen, it was undeniably impressive, and I got the impression that perfection wasn't what she was aiming for in the first place. It was style. And she had certainly nailed that.

"... What is there to not like about them?" He asked earnestly, perplexed as to why she had seemed to demonstrate so much anxiety about showing them to him. He imagined that if he could draw this well he would have confidence in his works, although it was undoubtedly true that he would strive to continuously improve. That was simply who he was. But she was far from awful, that much was clear. Vergil wondered why she didn't have more confidence in her skills.

"So you… they're good?" She said, her tone filled with disbelief. She seemed genuinely surprised that he hadn't tossed the notebook aside and walked out of the door in disgust. And it wasn't an act. Far from it, in fact. Every facet of her face from the slight widening of her pupils to the ever-so-subtle upturn of the corner of her mouth and the raising of her eyebrows made that clear. She had expected him to not like her work, that much was clear.

"I think so. Better than anything I could ever do. Not that I've tried." He said simply, speaking honestly. He'd never really gotten into drawing. He tried it once or twice as a child, but that had been more his brother's thing, not that Dante's crayon scribbles had been anything he'd dare call art. Though he imagined his parents would have disagreed in that way that parents always seem to. He imagined it held a certain charm to the parents of the child when their offspring created some hideous amalgamation of colors and shapes that would probably request a swift and merciful death should it be able to speak for them.

Now it was Vergil's turn to ask a few questions. His curiosity had been piqued by the contrast between her artwork and her reaction to his reaction to it. He was clearly missing something here. "If you thought that they were terrible, why did you continue?"

A look that he was unfamiliar with flashed across her face. In a mixture of grief and disappointment, the muscles in her neck quivering as she pinched her lips together, turning them inward. Her shoulders pulled inward and pointed upward as she drew into herself, wounded by something he didn't understand.

"Because… I had to believe they were. It was all I could do." She said as her gaze shifted down towards the floor, her eyes unable to meet his. She clutched the notebook tightly, not crinkling or tearing it but bending the cardboard backing ever so slightly. "My father always told me they weren't any good. He worked in antiquities and spent a lot of time around collections of vintage fine art. Every time I showed him one of my drawings even as a little girl he always told me that my works were nothing special, especially compared to the masters. So I studied the artists he liked. I wanted to be good like them so badly. I wanted him to tell me just once that he likes something I did. So I kept practicing and practicing hoping that one day I'd be good enough. That on the rare occasion that he came home he would look at my art with adoration like he did the art he worked with. That he would look at me with adoration. But in over a decade that's never happened a single time."

Vergil remained silent, utterly unsure as to how he was supposed to follow a statement like that. His father had never expressed disappointment with his skills or interests. He had only ever wanted to be like his father. To honor his unsurmountable legacy as his oldest son. He had pushed himself to be the very best because he knew that it would be impressive to his father, or at least he had hoped it would be, but he couldn't imagine what he would feel in the depths of his very being of his father had told him that he simply wasn't good enough. To be told that he possessed known talent and that he simply wasn't anything special, even if that were the truth. To him, his father had been utterly perfect, and although their relationship hadn't always been, he would have never dreamed of being told something so heartless by Sparda or his mother, for that matter. He didn't think his father even had it in him to voice that kind of opinion. And that was to say nothing of how his mother would have torn him apart should he have done so.

His father had been firm but caring, offering encouragement and feedback when needed. He offered guidance on matters that he understood and attempted to learn things that he did not in order to be more helpful to them. He had shown patience in situations when Vergil himself was sure that he personally would have cracked. Sparda wanted to see him improve. It seemed to bring him satisfaction when he or his brother did well. Her father didn't seem to be anything like that to him.

… He missed them both so much.

"Your father is a buffoon." The Darkslayer said that word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth. If it were up to his preferences he would not refer to a man who treated his child that way as a parent, but he had nothing else to call him. He imagined that he was the sort of man his mother would have hated. She never believed in stifling creativity even when that creativity was something she didn't understand like Dante's senseless little games and Vergil's own solitary obsession with literature, especially poetry. She'd simply smile and nod, giving them encouragement through her presence alone. She believed that the innocence and whimsy of a child was something that should be protected and nurtured for as long as it could be before the crushing reality of growing up set in, something that she and Sparda had many discussions about over the years before his disappearance. Never arguments or fights, but a few heated discussions. Yes. Eva would have hated this woman's father with every fiber of her being. And she probably wouldn't have been quiet about it.

A single, solitary tear ran from her eye and down her cheek until it dripped off of her chin onto the edge of the paper, causing a small blemish on the art. It was barely noticeable, but it was there nonetheless. She quietly set the notebook down and leaned on the desk, her back to him. She was clearly trying to compose herself and failing. It seemed that she wasn't keen on shedding tears in front of a stranger, either.

"You're absolutely right. I told him something like that the last time I saw him. On the front steps of our house. And then I took my bags and walked away. I won't repeat the words he said to me in response; The things he called me as I left him behind. I know none of his words should matter and that he's wrong. But they still do somehow." She used a crumpled-up piece of paper to wipe her eye, the medium too stiff to work effectively much like blowing your nose into copy paper, but she didn't seem to care. It got the job done regardless. "Sometimes I think about sending him some of my art to show him how much I've improved. And then I remember… That pigment on paper has always mattered more to him than me."

Vergil looked away from her for a moment, back into the photographs on the wall and the artwork that filled that room. There were no people in any of them. And now it made sense. Because she was alone here with nothing but her work. The work that she did because she had no idea what else to do. It had consumed so much of her, her desire to achieve an idealized version of herself that didn’t exist. The loneliness was suddenly suffocating. And somewhere deep within himself, the part of him that didn’t want to acknowledge anything that he perceived as a flaw couldn’t shake the feeling that this realization was like holding a mirror up to himself. And that infuriated him.

“... Put your boots back on. Let’s take a walk.”.

(-~-)

Hi again! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I've been slower than I’d like getting to your comments, so I just wanted to let you know that I see them and I’m answering them but I have like 20 in my inbox right now and I’ve just been busy lately. Thank you for all the support and feel free to keep them coming! I love chatting with all of you! See you on Friday! Bye bye!

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

“I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

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lokislastlove · 2 years

Text

Discipline or Regret (Dark!Thor x Reader)

Summary: You attract the attention of one very determined football player.

Warnings: Dubcon, Dom Thor, bondage, smut, daddy kink 😬

Note: This was supposed to be a drabble!!! @queenoftheworldisdead is to blame for this filth. I hope it satisfies your Thor thirst a bit… I’d certainly let him satisfy mine. My first time really going in on the daddy thing. 😬 hope I didn’t ruin it. 💕

🏈

Months of overtime and busting your ass and what did it get you? Well, you had hoped it would get you a promotion, a raise, or hell even just a nice bonus. Instead your boss gifts you with a envelope and two tickets to an Avengers game tomorrow.

You hated football, and how the hell are you going to find someone to go with you with less than 24 hours notice?

Your boss could afford pricey front row season tickets for himself - though he hardly ever goes, always complaining about the cold weather – but can’t afford to give you a modest bonus? Such an asshole.

“He actually gave you a bonus?” Lindsey, the bosses secretary, asks in awe as she eyes the envelope in your hands. “Not that you don’t deserve it, because of course you do! I’ve just never seen him do that for anyone.”

“Oh yeah, a super amazing bonus,” you scoff sardonically, tossing the tickets on her desk.

She opens the envelope and grimaces, “ugh and everyone knows you hate football.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe I can try to sell them last minute?”

A smile grows on her face and she bats her lashes sweetly, “or… I could pay you for one of the seats and you can go with me! It’s a win/win! You get some cash and an awesome girl date with your office bestie and I get to ogle Bucky Barnes ass up close in person!”

You laugh and consider her offer, still a bit hesitant, “eh – I don’t know.”

“I’ll buy all the drinks! We can just chat and yell at all the hot guys! Maybe flirt a bit? Seriously, this is the ultimate sausage fest. Come on, I promise it will be fun!”

It’s been a while since you’ve done anything on your weekends besides shop for groceries and binge Netflix, so you agree and arrange to carpool the next day.

—

“Here they come!” Lindsey squeals as the home team comes jogging onto the field.

Her excitement is contagious and you find yourself cheering along, or it could be the cocktails kicking in.

“Nice ass number 55!” Your friend screams without shame, waving and laughing loudly when the player turns to look at her with a smirk.

You stifle your giggles and slap her arm, “oh my god. You’re cat calling now?”

“What? They love it. Watch…” she turns away from you with a wicked grin and searches the sideline for a player close enough to hear her.

You try to tug on her shirt, “no no. Shhh. Don’t, Lindsey”

“Hey! Thor! My friend thinks your hot!” she yells drunkenly, making the people around you whoop and laugh.

You laugh and roll your eyes, shaking your head at her antics until you see an absolute beast of a man turn and fix his attention on Lindsey. He is massive, bulging biceps flexing beneath the tight jersey and pads. His shirt rides up, showing off his ripped core and defined pelvic muscles that draw your eye to his crotch no matter how hard you try to resist. You gulp as he removes his helmet and brushes back his long blond locks, revealing the amused smirk adorning his smooth square jaw.

His attention shifts from her to you, and you feel your face burn with embarrassment as he bites his lip and gives you ‘the nod’, the one cocky men give when they see something they’d like to fuck. He wiggles his fingers at you when you stare back at him in horror, too shocked to think, let alone return any sign of recognition.

He chuckles and taps the shoulder of the player next to him, whispering something in his ear before pointing at you. The other player turns to peek over his shoulder at you, his long black hair masking most of his face, but you see him laugh and shake his head good-naturedly before turning back to watch the field. Thor however let’s his eyes cling to you until you sink so low in your chair you are practically laying in it, using your hands to hide your face.

“Oh my god, now he’s staring at us,” you hiss as your friend continues to wave and try to get him to come over to her.

“She’s single!” You hear Lindsey yell across the field, a few laughs erupting around you.

You swat at her leg as she leans over the metal barrier, trying to get her to stop, “Lindsey!”

“She’s a little shy, but she really wants to see your huge di-” She giggles as you pull her back into her chair and slap your hand over her mouth.

“Hey, what the fuck. I did not agree to come with you so you could embarrass me,” you chide through angry whispers.

“I’m not embarrassing you! I’m trying to hook you up with one of the hottest men on the team! I mean, he’s no Bucky, but you have to admit he’s easy on the eyes.”

“Oh my god, girl. Stop before he sends Security over to drag us out for sexual harassment,” you warn, sneaking a look over the railing at the man still laughing and watching you.

The crowd erupts in boos and groans and someone hits Thors shoulder to get his attention. He brings his hand to his mouth and blows you a kiss then runs out onto the field. You watch him the whole time, bewitched by his graceful run, his thick thighs in those tight pants and the way his golden hair peeks out the back of the helmet. The perfect stillness of his imposing form as he squats on the line, muscles trembling in anticipation.

Even from the sideline you hear his intimidating growl as the ball is hiked and he rushes the offensive line, easily pushing the colossal men out of the way. The opposing quarterback falters and tries to throw the ball but Thor leaps into the air in an impressive show of athleticism and spikes the ball to the ground, ending the play.

“Looks like he’s showing off for you,” Lindsey giggles, elbowing you playfully.

“You mean he doesn’t always try to beat the other team?” you sass.

Energized by his last play Thor seems to vibrate on the line, ready to explode the moment the ball moves. You can see the offense twitch and eye each other as Thor trash talks them. Another “hike” and Thor blasts through the wall of players, knocking two men on their ass on his way to tackle the quarterback to the ground. The ball comes loose and he scrambles to pick it up and runs it into the endzone for an epic opening touchdown.

The crowd booms it’s applause, screaming and cheering at the turn of events. AC/DCs song “Thunderstruck” blasts over the speakers and fans start to chant “thunder” while Thor dances in the end zone. Holding the ball in one hand he points it to you with a cheeky wink and runs back to the sideline as the music fades and the crowd settles.

“Yeah, he’s totally not showing off for you,” Lindsey teases.

—

By the end of the game you can no longer deny your friends jokes. Thor can’t seem to help himself, he sticks close to your end of the sideline when he’s not on the field, stealing glances and making faces at you. You try to hide your discomfort, he’s not your usual type, cocky, confident, and a showoff. But it’s hard to complain about a beautiful man giving you such attention.

As the game is called, another crushing victory for the home team, you watch in shock as the beefy defender comes bounding toward you, sweaty and beaming. You pause as you pack up your things and Lindsey squeals in excitement as he nears.

“Hey,” his startling deep voice rings through the rumble of the audience as they flee their seats.

“Hi!” Lindsey squeaks, bouncing excitedly. “Big fan!”

His rich chuckle bubbles from deep in his chest as he spares her a courteous glance before locking eyes with you.

“I just wanted you to have this before you go,” he says tossing one of his white gloves up to you.

You catch it clumsily, “oh. Uh, thanks. You did great out there today.”

He smirks, eyes dipping below your chin for a moment before flicking back up and cocking his head, “only one of my… many talents, little girl.”

Thankfully he saves you the pain of coming up with a response when he chuckles at your shocked expression and turns to trot back to the locker room, leaving you to scrape your jaw off the floor.

Lindsey snatched the glove from your loose grip and screams in excitement, “oh my god! Look!”

She shakes the glove in front of your face and you notice the black marker written on the palm reading ‘Daddy 555-1046’.

“Ick, ‘daddy’?” You read aloud, disgust dripping from your voice.

“Girl. Text him immediately,” Lindsey orders you seriously and you look at her in disbelief.

“No way am I texting him,” you shake your head and shove the glove into your purse.

“Dude, a professional football player just gave you his number after making eyes at you the whole game. Call. Him.”

“I don’t even like football,” you laugh.

“You don’t have to like football to appreciate that ass.”

—

You spend days staring at the glove, Lindsey badgering you every moment of the day to see if you still had it and suggesting you give it to her.

“Look why does it matter? It wouldn’t be anything serious, he probably does this every game. He’s a total himbo,” you argue one day on your lunch break.

“So? Where the problem? How long has it been since you got laid?” she returns, arching her plucked brow.

You mull over her words, it had been a while. And really what’s the fear? Even if it is a one-night stand, you’d likely get a nice dinner out of it and hopefully some good dick.

“Fine,” you mutter and take the glove from your purse.

“Ha! You’ve kept it on you this whole time? I knew you were a hoe,” she jokes, watching as you punch in his number.

“What do I say? It’s been days he probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Only one way to find out,” she smiles.

—

Your leg bounces nervously in the back of the cab as you near the rich part of town. You stare up in awe at the beautiful building bordering Central Park. You tip the driver and get out, eyeing the doorman as you bite your lip.

“Good evening Miss,” he greets with a tip of his hat. “Here for a visit?”

“Yeah. Um, Thor Odinson gave me this address, he said to be here at seven,” you sputter.

The older man smiles sweetly, wrinkles crinkling at the corner of his eye, “Yes, Miss. He told me to expect you, come on in. Twenty third floor, second door on the left.”

“Oh, thank you,” you smile and cross the threshold.

You hesitate outside his door for a minute before finally knocking softly and adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

“Coming!” you hear his booming voice sound through the door followed by the clatter of pans.

You take in a deep breath as his thundering steps near the door and he pulls it open to greet you with a dashing grin.

“Hi,” you smile, worrying your lower lip as he runs his eyes down your body. You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze and clear your throat.

“Even prettier than I remember,” he flirts and steps aside, welcoming you in.

You swallow at the way his stretched t-shirt hangs loosely across his chest, draping just right to show off the sculpted curves of his pecs and perky nipples. He grabs the dishtowel slung over his shoulder and rushes back to the kitchen, curling a finger over his shoulder to get you to follow.

“Wine?” He asks as you take a seat on one of the island barstools and watch him flit about the kitchen.

“Sure, I’ll drink whatever you got,” you say agreeably as you take a second to look around the lofty space.

The two story loft is open and chic, the white walls keep it bright in contrast to the dark hardwood floors and the eye catching black spiral staircase leading to the master bedroom above. The open floor plan and minimal bold furniture pieces is the perfect design for a bachelor who enjoys entertaining. It’s a much more calm masculine energy than what you expected and pleasantly so.

“This place is amazing,” you compliment as you admire the black granite waterfall countertops.

“Thank you,” you shudder at the rich depth of his voice, “this is the one I’ve kept the longest. Hard to find the perfect apartment in this city. But this one has the view, the location, and the layout.”

“And an adorable doorman,” you add, accepting the glass of wine and eagerly taking a sip.

“Yes!” he exclaims with a laugh. “Bernie is surely a perk.”

“So, I have to ask… do you do that often? Give girls your glove with only ‘daddy’ written on it? It was a bold move, I admit.”

“It worked didn’t it?” He smiles cheekily. “I have always had a talent for spotting a woman with a certain… quality, about them.” His eyes sparkle as they watch the way your throat bobs when you swallow nervously.

“Yeah?” You voice comes out a little higher than expected. “What quality is that?” You narrow your eyes playfully.

He hums in amusement and brings a grape to his lips, popping it in his mouth with a pleased groan, the sound of which causes your thighs to clench together.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he smirks as he sets a bowl of mixed fruit in front of you.

You try to fight the smile, but his flirty confidence is surprisingly effective and you suddenly realize how out of your depth you are. His smile is disarming and he clearly does have a talent for seduction and it makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“Now, dinner is almost done. How about you go pick out some music for us? Anything on the top shelf should work,” he points at the vinyl record player in the living area behind you before turning back to the stove.

You nod and wander over to the low shelf filled with sleeves of records. You recognize most of the artists and are surprised at some of his older taste, maybe he’s not such so basic after all. You pick out some Marvin Gaye, and wander around the large space, admiring the more personal touches to get a feel for him.

You are taken aback by the amount of philanthropic memories, pictures of him building houses, helping at the special Olympics, visiting children in hospitals. Perhaps the one that surprises you most is the image of Thor cutting a ribbon for a youth community center in his name, children clinging to him with big goofy smiles.

His slow footsteps come up behind you and you feel an excited tingle run under your skin. Maybe Lindsey is right, you judged him too quickly, and the more you learn, the more you like him.

“I admit, I did not expect this side of you.”

“I don’t do it for praise,” he returns, “I prefer people save that for my other talents.”

You laugh, “oh yeah? Like what?” You tease as you continue admiring the pictures with interest.

A small gasp escapes when he takes your chin and turns you up to face him. He smiles at the way your eyes seem to glisten instantly and your lips part in surprise. “Let’s start with dinner.”

Just as suddenly he releases you and struts back over to the beautifully arranged dining table. You follow slowly as you temper the heat swelling in your core and the flicker of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

The rest of the dinner is spent fighting your desperation as the sexual tension thickens between you. You eat slowly, unnerved by the way his eyes follow the movement of your mouth as though at any moment he might leap across the table and devour them.

But he doesn’t. He’s remarkably calm and disciplined as he teases you with his dark promises and filthy insinuations with each question he answers.

“I can see that you want to ask about it, so ask little girl,” he smiles as you touch your cheek, fighting the heat gathering there. “Go on, I know it’s been on your mind. Is it why you finally decided to text me.”

“Ok, explain the ‘daddy’ thing,” you yield.

He chuckles and his pupils widen, “it is as much a title as any other. And one that pleases me far more than any other in my life.”

“Ok… so that’s it? You just like girls to call you ‘daddy’ when you’re… when you - you know,” you regret asking, feeling hot under the pressure of the conversation, you probably sound like an idiot.

“Yes and no. I expect them to call me Daddy,” he intones. “Just as I expect them to respect my authority during our sessions. I’m not some horny teenager, I am a dominant and I am only interested in women who are willing to submit to me.”

Your mouth goes dry instantly, all moisture pooling between your legs at his firm rich tone of voice. “Oh,” you squeak trying not to give yourself away.

“So,” he prompts, raising a brow expectantly. “Are you going to praise me on my eye for … quality, or shall we say goodnight?”

Your hips swivel in your chair as your thighs tighten, cunt clenching beneath your dress. You know what you want to say, you want to submit, but you’re nervous to admit it so openly. You nod as you bite your lip and he smiles.

“Try again,” he demands softly. “I need to hear you say it. You can do it. Just say ‘yes daddy’.”

You swallow the huge lump in your throat, eyes unblinking as they lock with his, making you feel small and vulnerable, “y-yes daddy.”

In a flash he is on his feet, the legs of the table screeching along the wood as he pushes it out of the way in his haste to get to you. He scoops you up in his arm and you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively as he carries you to the nearest wall.

Your back meets the cool painted brick wall and you moan as his lips latch to your neck. Your chin lowers when he reaches a particularly ticklish spot and he grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head and tugs your head back giving him more access.

“Oh god,” you gasp as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

“No,” he growls into your neck, nipping you in warning. “Daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you acquiesce needing his lips back on you.

He hums his approval and pecks small kisses down your neck, taking a moment to suck along your collarbone. He leans into you, his body and the wall keeping you in place as his other hand grabs your ass. He groans and uses both hands to squeeze your cheeks, spreading them open and pressing them together again over and over. The rush of the cool air and the stretch stimulate your cunt and you groan, knowing you are close to soaking his pants through your drenched panties.

“Please,” you beg, slit grinding into the rough edges of his jeans and whimpering when your clit finds the button, causing your hips swivel faster.

“Beg all you like, little one. I love to ignore it,” he snickers.

He takes his time, teasing you against the wall for what feels like forever, clearly in no rush to go further. You hump his pelvis, his bulge providing the perfect shape to scratch that desperate itch. You moan loudly as you near your peak, so close when he pulls away from the wall, eliminating that delicious friction. He slap your ass harshly and tuts at you as you cling to him.

“You only come when Daddy says,” he hisses in your ear as he walks you over to the stairs.

He keeps you close, his muscles rippling under your fingers as you try to keep from falling with every bounce. But he holds you firm, grip unwavering without a hint of exertion. You take a moment to scold yourself for ever doubting the sex appeal of professional athletes.

The next thing you know he’s forcing you off him and tossing you onto the bed. You bounce and gasp at the rough treatment, something you’ve only ever seen in movies or experienced in your dreams.

“If you’d like those clothes to remain in one piece I suggest taking them off. Now.”

You hurry to get up on your knees and pull the simple cocktail dress off and toss it to the floor. Your shaky fingers fumble with the bra clasp as you watch him reach behind his neck and pull the shirt off one-handed with ease. You get the clasps released but your hand goes limp as you take in every chiseled inch of him. He looks as though he’s been crafted by the gods, not a single flaw. Every muscle perfectly toned, perfectly golden skin in a perfectly proportioned package.

“Holy shit,” you breathe as he pops the button on his jeans and with a tiny wiggle they fall to the floor.

He smirks, eyes glittering in amusement as you sit there frozen in awe. The briefs are the last to go and you audibly moan as he reveals his rigid cock. He’s the most mouth-watering thing you’ve ever seen, and your stomach flutters as you finally achieve the ultimate thirst for a man.

“Is your mouth hanging open like that an invitation? Because I will happy oblige,” he chuckles as he grips his cock and crawls toward you, giving himself a few tight pumps.

Only a few feet away, and you still sit there like a deer in headlights. He squeezes the base of his cock while his other hand grips the back of your neck and he pushes you down.

“Open wide and relax that throat,” he orders softly as he guides you to his tip.

You don’t fight, eager to please him as his slides along your tongue. Your hands drop to support you as you bob up and down, arching your back and sticking out your ass.

The delightful groan he makes vibrates your whole body and you grip the comforter as it makes you clench, cunt already dripping for him. You have always been addicted to the power you feel when taking a man into your mouth, and the louder he gets the higher you feel. You take him as far as you can, unable to swallow his whole length and gagging painfully when you try.

“Shh, it’s ok. That’s a good girl,” he praises as he pets your head and tickles your back, enjoying every curve.

You release him with a pop and he hums as he looks down at you, still waiting his orders on your hands and knees.

“On your back, feet spread at the end of the bed,” he orders and climbs back off the bed.

You hastily remove the bra still dangling from your arm and tear down your panties as you assume the position. He stands at the foot of the bed with a small metal pole with cuffs at each end. He quickly binds your ankles and lefts your legs so that they hang from the bar. He grips it tight and pulls it open wide and wider, the spreader bar keeping you open, unable to close your legs no matter how you badly you want to.

The brief humiliation of being so exposed fades into excitement when he holds the bar with both hands and lifts, as though you were some sexy workout in the gym. Your hips raise off the mattress and you squeak as your ass bounces against his pelvis, barely missing his glistening cock.

“Remember, be good and ask Daddy’s permission to come,” he reminds you as he uses the bar to guide your hanging hips into place and prods your entrance with his velvety tip. Your slick spreads with each attempt coating him generously until he slides in, stretching you wide.

His biceps bulge, veins pressing against his skin as he holds you aloft and begins to thrust his hips into you. The angle is dangerous, his maddeningly large cock painful except for when it presses against your g-spot. You twitch and cry out as he pounds into you without relent. He’s not wild or feral like most men when they try to go rough, he’s got a calm darkness in his eyes, enjoying the way you scream for him.

That string in your abdomen tightens and your eyes roll, arms outstretched against the mattress looking for anything to hold onto while your lower half is manhandled with such disciplined force. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced and without thinking you come with a drawn out groan, legs trembling in their suspended bonds.

He stops and drops the bar before flipping it, your body twisting awkwardly so that your arms are now pinned under your stomach. The thundering slaps filled the room along with your startled screams, the tender flesh of your ass burning with the sting of his angry swats.

“Bad girl,” he growls. “I don’t like when my rules are ignored. Now let’s try that again shall we?”

He reaches under your chin and pulls your head up, straining your neck and arching your back as he turns you to face a shelf on the wall above the bed. You see a small red light beneath a round black round lens and your blood runs cold as you blink at it in horror.

“Now say ‘sorry’ to Daddy and I’ll give you one more chance.”

His grip on your jaw is painful as you struggle in his hold. You want to scream, demand he let you go but as his fingers dig into your flesh, the fear overwhelms you.

“S-sorry Daddy! S-sorry!” You sob and collapse in defeat on the mattress when he lets you go. Tears seep into the comforter as he tugs the bar down, leaving you bent over the edge of the bed with his hands framing your hips.

“I forgive you, baby. I know you can be good for me.” He leans down, the heat of him smothering your back as he kisses your shoulder. “But if you do that again, I’m going to tear that sweet little ass apart,” he whispers in your ear, chuckling at the way you whimper fearfully.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @threeminutesoflife @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @thiskindahotkindamusic @lokiswildheartcantbebroken

#dark Thor x reader #Thor x reader #dark fic #football AU #MCU #thor odinson #lemon #grapefruit?

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silverdelirium · 3 years

Note

Can I request a very filthy smutty blaise with ass kink and size kink? 🥺

MESSY OFFICE | B.Z

SUMMARY ➠ coworker!blaise teaches you a lesson and fulfills his dreams of fucking you silly.

WARNINGS ➠ oral (male receiving), tad bit of shoe fucking, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, ass kink, size kink, lots of dirty talk, rushed ending. this if filthy lololol

———

blaise took a deep breath before slamming his fist down on the wooden desk of his office. the papers that were placed on top of it went flying around at the sudden movement.

his hands were shaking with irritation. if that fucking landlord could just shut the fuck up about his rent for one second-

the male’s thoughts were cut off by small, rapid knocks against the door. his brows knitted in confusion at the unanticipated invasion.

“come in!”

the door creaked as you entered the room, peeking your head through the doorway at first before going in, shutting the door behind you.

your presence emitted a groan from him. he knew that the moment you both spent time together it would somehow end in a screaming match, and blaise was not in the mood to be dealing with anything right now.

you gave him a sharp glare in response before opening your mouth to speak. yet you were cut off by your own silence as you studied the state of his office.

everything seemed so rustled and chaotic— there were papers thrown in the floor, some were even crumbled and a few candy wrappers were tossed around. “what is this mess?” you spoke, tone lacing with disgust as you picked up an old folder from the worktable; his hand was quick to swat you away, scowling you before leaning back on the desk.

“what do you want?” he squinted at you, roaming his eyes down your body suspiciously— mentally slapping himself for staring at your breasts longer than planned.

“what the fuck is up your arse today?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and walking closer to him until he had to crane his neck down to look at you.

blaise’s chest heaved up and down as he quickly undid the top button of his shirt, turning away from you and taking long strides around the room. he closed his eyes and really hated himself for wanting nothing more than to shut that smart mouth of yours with his hardening cock. it was too much for him— and if there was one-way blaise loved to take his stress out on, was sex. and god— that stupid little skirt of yours that was begging to be lifted and reveal that sweet cunt that plagued his mind at the worst moments was the last push he needed to man up and fuck you as he had always wanted to.

you observed him in silence, watching how he mumbled something to himself about ‘i can’t think of her like this.’

quietness ran across the walls for a few moments before blaise was back in front of you, muttering a “fuck it” and connecting his lips to yours.

the fleeting kiss had you bewildered for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth unmoving as the tall man held the back of your head in his palm. you didn’t kiss him back at first, but you didn’t protest either. and you’d be dammed if you didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to get fucked brain dead by blaise zabini.

but who could blame you when you kissed him back with the same— maybe even more— force; it was messy and heated all at once, the frustration that you sensed from earlier was being poured in that kiss. teeth were clashing together as his tongue pressed down on yours, drawing out a breathy moan from you.

blaise cupped your rear with both hands, lifting you in an unforeseen manner, causing you to squeal lightly until you felt your bum being pressed against the cool surface of his messy desk.

he was the first to break apart from the kiss, breathing steadily as he stared down at you— even from your perched up position he was still a few inches taller.

“i’m not gonna hold back” he warned, searching your eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation that you might feel. but he was far from finding any, you wanted blaise to fuck you until he was poking out of your tummy and you wanted it now.

“i don’t care” you breathed out, reconnecting your mouth to his and almost missing out on that keen groan that came out of his mouth.

his large digits scurried under your skirt, unzipping it in a quick motion and pulling it down your legs until it pooled on the floor.

he teasingly ran his index finger up and down the soaked cotton that covered your pulsating pussy. “blaise— please” you shamelessly plead, throwing all your morals out the window and not caring about anything else but being rutted over and over again.

“look at you. begging like a well paid whore when you were being a smart ass with me not even ten minutes ago.” he chuckled, taking pride in the way you whimpered in response, bucking your hips up onto his fingers. “what is it, baby? you want me to fuck you until that dumb baby brain can only think about my cock, yeah?”

his words struck a bit of sense into you and you huffed in response— “are you actually gonna give me what i want and fuck me properly or are you all talk?”

you messed up and you messed up big; you could tell by the way hir pupils dilated and the slow touches against your clothed pussy stopped. his tongue darted out to poke on his left cheek as he laughed lightly, stepping back and harshly bringing you down the desk.

“i’m gonna fuck your throat until you learn how to keep useless stuff to yourself, princess” he warned, signalling down to the floor as he unbuckled his belt.

you tentatively got down on your knees, lightly scraping them against the wooden floor as you rubbed your thighs together, pawing at your lap as blaise’s erection appeared in your view of line.

was that supposed to fit in you?

blaise seemed to notice your unsureness— “you alright there, pretty girl?” his tone was softer, less stern yet with the same accent of authority he always carried.

“i— it’s… big.” you let out, feeling the tip of your ears grow hot as he chuckled before picking up a more alluring timbre “oh i’m gonna make it fit” he winked.

you swallowed thickly, already picturing the delicious stretch this man was gonna provide you. he stroked his large cock sensually before making a beeline with it to your lips, which were already parted in expectancy; he went to tease you for it but was cut off by his low moan that got provoked as the warmth of your mouth enveloped his pulsating tip.

his digits tangled themselves in your hair, good girl’s and just like that’s slipped from his mouth every time your tongue swirled around his head. and the slickness that was pouring out of you was suddenly too much to ignore— hence why you reached down to attempt and soothe the burning sensation. blaise was still enthralled with the way your worked those lips that he had dreamed of having against his around his cock— his hands tightened around your scalp as he thrusted rapidly against your mouth, desperately probing for an orgasm.

a muffled whine came from you as he fucked your throat repeatedly, causing him to look down at your teary eyes, eventually settling his irises on your hand rubbing your greedy cunt.

blaise tutted with a hint of disappointment, making your movements halt as you batted your eyelashes up at him innocently as if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with his cock that was ready to shoot its cum down your fucked out throat.

you went to furrow your brows when he kicked your hand away gently, replacing your fingers with the point of his leather shoe, your wetness already leaking down on his footwear as you whined around his cock, making his hips buck involuntarily at the vibrations— “i was gonna reward you for sucking me so well, but since you’re such a desperate slut you’re gonna have to fuck yourself on my shoe while i throat fuck you, yeah?” he asked demanded.

a weak nod was all he got in response before he was back to gripping your hair in his fist, spit drooling down your chin at the abrupt pace he set without even a warning— not that you minded.

your hips rolled slowly into his shoe, swollen clit fizzing at the stimulation; his shoe hit every right nerve ending, the sounds you made around his cock were filthy and lewd, only making his balls grow tighter as he stilled his hips, rope after rope of cum flooding your mouth.

you moaned lowly against his cock at the feeling of his warm cum spraying down your throat.

he gave tattered breaths and moans as he pulled out of your mouth, barely even taking notice of the whining mess you became, his foot now long gone from your oozing cunt.

“get the fuck up” he breathed out, staring down at your already fucked out-state— saliva all over your chin, along with a few tears decorating your frowning face as you stood up. his large hands came to cup your face, delivering a small kiss on the corner of your mouth before placing his mouth next to your ear and whispering “i’ve been trying to translate your frowns and find out what your fucking problem with me was before bending you over my desk and fucking you stupid.”

you could’ve easily moaned at his words alone if it weren’t for his lips linking with yours in a crazed kiss as he guided you towards his messy desk— which was about to be a whole lot messier.

his hands reassuringly squeezed your waist as he turned you around, his once again hard cock rubbed against your ass as he planted kisses against your neck, sucking on certain spots that had your eyes rolling onto the back of your head— his fingers making quick work of getting your shirt off, throwing it somewhere around the room as he separated himself from your now marked neck, leaving you in your undergarments that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck you senseless for so long, baby. you don’t know how many times i spent with my hand around my cock dreaming about your tight pussy around it.” he groaned out, pushing you forward until your breasts squished against the desk, shuddering at the cold of it.

his palms massaged your left ass cheek before a harsh slap was delivered to it— and his mouth wasn’t there to cover the pornographic moan that came out of you this time, pushing your bum against his hardened dick in anticipation.

blaise grabbed a hold of his cock and steadied himself with a hand on your bum, squeezing. before he moved your panties to the side and teased your pulsating entrance with his tip, groaning slightly at the way your pussy almost swallowed him in as he pushed the tiniest bit in, coaxing a loud cry from you.

“so so tight, princess” he praised, pushing himself all the way in with a single thrust, arousal already gushing down your thighs.

the male wasted no time and in a few moments he had you with your mouth gaped open, eyes going crisscross with every un pitying snap against your hips of his.

“can you feel me all the way up in your pretty guts, baby girl? you like having this slutty cunt being taught a lesson, huh?” he growled out, eyes trained on each bounce of your ass as he sped up— the clapping sounds were enough to give away what was happening to any passerbyers outside his office; not that any of you minded at this point.

“oh! fuck blaise— right there! right there!” you babbled out, shutting your eyes tight as he brought you up with his bicep against your throat, making you loll your head back on his shoulder as his dick continuously hit that spot inside you.

blaise’s other hand snaked around your midriff, pressing down on the evident outline of his cock going in and out of your tummy. “look at me destroying your pretty little insides, sweetheart, bet you won’t be able to sit on this pretty little pussy for the next week” he cooed at you before slamming you forwards until your cheek pressed against his rattling desk.

“don’t stop! don’t stop please!” you sobbed out, squeaking lightly when his palms crashed down roughly on your ass, groans and moans echoing around the room like a chant— the pit in your stomach growing tighter and tighter by the second.

“i’m cumming blaise, i’m fucking cumming” you gasped out, lifting your head back up and pointing your nose to the ceiling as you came all-around blaise’s cock with a loud ecstatic moan.

a whimper passed by your lips as blaise continued to fuck you through your high; and it took him one look to look at the mess you left running down yours and his thighs for him to be pumping you full of his cum, steady thrusts that had him hissing as you clenched around him for a final time.

he pulled out of you to watch his cum blow out of your overstimulated pussy, the aftershocks of the intense orgasm still causing your muscles to spasm every once in a while.

“you made my office a whole lot messier” he grunted out, pointing down to the puddle that fell in between your legs, causing you to flush instantly as he chuckled and pressed light kisses to your temple.

———

🏷: @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @youreso-golden @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @fredshufflepuff @dracosafety @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @andineverwould @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @fizzleberries @malfoy-girl @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @whoreforgeorgeandfred @elizabethrosedarling

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#blaise zabini smut #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini au #blaise zabini oneshot #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x y/n #blaise zabini x you #queue'd

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venenatd · 3 years

Text

just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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unfoundhoney · 3 years

Text

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

2K notes · View notes

moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

Text

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

#c!techno #red:moon #mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut

2K notes · View notes

letterstotheflre · 3 years

Text

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

summary: james was never hers to lose.

warnings: CHEATING, age gap (not specified but reader is in her 20s), tiiiny angst?? i don’t think it’s sad lmao, allusions to sex and one miniature sex scene, some food mentions, and a very badly written argument.

word count: 3k (why are they always so long ffs)

a/n: my first james potter fic <3 i love this man so much, sorry for making you the bad guy here. this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks, and since i’ve been feeling kinda sad i finally got around to edit it. also hedric rights!!

They always meet like this.

The room is dark except for a small sea salt lamp she bought on sale from Target. Her clothes are piling up on the floor, discarded carelessly by her lover, and his are not too far from meeting the same fate.

He is kissing her hungrily as he could never get enough of her. His hands travel all over her back while she unbuttons his shirt, their lips never parting. He moves her to her bed, the sheets a pale green that reminds him of—

No. He closes his eyes tightly, pretends the green is actually blue like the lacy bralette that covers her breasts and moves his lips down to her jaw. He sucks and nips and bites, letting her moans echo freely between the four walls that make their little sanctuary.

Her hands quickly undo his belt and stroke him lightly through the fabric of his boxers. He groans against the junction of her neck, the skin softer than anything he’s touched in years.

He pushes her down on the bed, cupping her face while he looks at her properly, noting the tangled hair caused by his fingers. Her lips are puffy and shiny, his kisses being the perpetrator of their current state. He waits for her to say something, to give him a sign that this is okay.

(It’s not okay, and they both know it. It’ll never be okay.)

She nods her head, and he kneels in front of her, pushing her legs wide open before he dives in.

—

She is laying on her bed, the sheets covering her body as she watches him try to fix up his hair in front of the mirror on her makeshift vanity.

“Make sure no one sees you leave,” she says, “and put—”

“Put my hood up, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her. It’s not the first time they do this dance.

“Sirius and Remus are with Harry at home. I told them I was going for a run, so they won’t say anything if I show up all sweaty,” he adds, trying to fill the awkward silence.

She just nods her head, fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the sheet, pulling it a bit more every time she twists her index finger. He steps forward, then sits on her bed and traces her cheekbone with his knuckles. “You know I care about you, right?” he asks.

Her heart clenches, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest that makes it hard to breathe for a second. She lowers her eyes, refusing to stare at those hazel irises that started everything. “I know, James,” she assures quietly, looking at a picture of her and Harry that’s stuck to the wall just behind him.

James brushes back some stray hairs that are still stuck to her forehead, then presses a small kiss on the slightly sweaty skin. He gives her a tentative smile before heading to the door, and she only looks in his direction when she hears the click of the door.

(He might care, but not enough.)

—

Sundays are always a slightly awkward affair at first.

Both of their families have been friends for years, getting together every Sunday for lunch at the Potter’s. James and Sirius always man the grill with her dad, all of them wearing those corny ‘kiss the chef!’ aprons. Her mother helps Lily make the salads in the kitchen while they gossip with Remus, who steals a few tomatoes when they aren’t looking. Now that it’s summer, she and Harry splash each other in the pool instead of catching up in his room.

It’s always strange seeing James in the light of day, pretending that this is the only version of him she knows: the version of him that is a friend, a father, a husband.

But she knows the other version of him: the one that has her on her knees begging for a taste of him, the one that grips her hair while he pounds into her from behind, the one that lets his tongue explore places of her no one else has. The version of him that kisses her forehead and plays with her fingers while their bodies are tangled together under the sheets. The version of him that kisses her as if she were the only one made for him.

(She isn’t.)

They are sitting around the table eating. Sirius is laughing about something with his arm around Remus’s shoulders, his bark of laughter echoing across the garden. Her mother’s shoulders shake as Lily rolls her eyes in amusement. James and her father have gone back to the grill to bring everyone their second round of burgers, and she can hear her father complaining about something from work.

“Here y’go, kid,” says James as he places the plate in front of her before ruffling her hair. She tenses up for a second before relaxing, muttering a small “thank you” before reaching for the ketchup.

She hates that nickname. It’s so impersonal, keeps a distance between them that truly doesn’t exist. As if he isn’t the only person that can make her vision whiten and the colours of her room hazy while she clutches his shoulders. As if he isn’t the only person who can pull so many different sounds from her vocal cords, sounds he knows no one else has ever heard before because he is the only one who can create them.

She can feel Sirius’s eyes on her as she stretches one arm, so she hesitantly glances at him. He raises an eyebrow, eyes switching back and forth between James and her, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind.

She gulps anxiously, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and goes back to eating.

—

James’s moans are loud as he gathers her hair in a makeshift ponytail. His cock is buried in her throat, and he watches as she gags for a second before relaxing her throat.

She’s taking him so deep that her nose nuzzles his pubic hair, the musky scent of James filling her nose as she breathes deeply through it. She starts moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip every time she rises.

He is a mess above her, needy whines and wanton moans leaving his mouth. His hips thrust up softly, slowly fucking her mouth, and he relishes in the small choking sounds she makes. His head rolls back as he groans, “That’s it, baby, so good to me.”

She winces at the name and pulls away from him. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but her hands never stop stroking him. She takes him back into her mouth and starts sucking with a newfound fervour, his voice echoing inside her head as she tries to make him forget about her.

(She tries to forget too.)

—

Honey rays filter through her window.

They are both laying on her bed, James on his stomach while she refills the glasses with some cheap wine she got from the store. He looks at the tiny purple splotches on her neck and the red fingerprints on her hips, then smirks proudly. When she turns, she smiles at him softly.

There’s a summer breeze that ruffles her curtains, and he can hear some teenagers laughing as they walk down the street over the music that plays from her speaker.

She places her glass on her nightstand, her nipples brushing his naked back as she leans over him. She lays down on her side, her fingertips softly drawing shapes on his skin. It takes him a moment to realize they are not random shapes but letters.

Her name, written over his scattered freckles and connecting his moles with cursive loops.

He takes her hand and kisses it, slightly chapped lips pressing against her open palm. Then he kisses her lips, still bitterly sweet with grapes, as his tongue moves languidly against hers while he pulls her by the hand on top of him.

It feels like a distant memory. It feels like a dream.

—

The cacophony of different voices singing “Happy Birthday” rings in her ears.

Harry is at the front of the table, an adorable blush dusting his cheeks at the attention. On either side of him are James and Lily, smiles wide as they watch their son blow the candles. Cedric is behind him, hands on his shoulders, and he leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

She sings and claps, whooping with Sirius when Harry blows the last candle. She eats cake and drinks the pretty cocktails Lily ordered. She smiles and laughs, pretends she couldn’t see the way the candles made the golden band on James’s ring finger beam like the sun.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way James holds Lily’s waist before kissing her. She pretends she can’t see them dancing slowly to a song Remus put on the Spotify playlist as a joke.

She pretends she can’t hear his footsteps following her when she goes to the bathroom. She feigns disinterest when he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards a deserted corridor.

But she can’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he kisses her, the thrumming in her veins when he pushes one leg between her thighs, nor the pleasure-filled gasps and moans that leave her mouth when he helps her roll her hips along his covered thigh.

It’s thrilling; they’ve never done something like this in public, much less in such proximity to friends and family.

(In such proximity to her.)

Even though she knows it shouldn’t, it gives her a sense of victory. Because he is here with her now: he is kissing her, making her moan, and whispering dirty things in her ear.

A faraway call of his name breaks the spell they’re under. They pull away hastily; she fixes her dress while James makes sure there are no lipstick stains on his face. The footsteps are getting closer, heels hitting the floorboards at the same rhythm as their rapid beating hearts.

It’s Sirius.

James almost breathes a sigh of relief, but she remains tensed up. Sirius looks between them, the same look he had that Sunday all those weeks ago on his face, and she feels bile rising in her throat.

“Lily’s looking for you,” he says, his thumb pointing back over his shoulder towards the reception where everyone’s gathered.

“Right,” says James. “Better go see what she needs. You do not want to see an angry drunk Lily.” He laughs, almost oblivious to the awkward tension between his two friends. He goes back to Lily, leaving her leaning against the wall and Sirius standing in the middle of the hallway.

Sirius looks at her, and even though his mind already knows, he refuses to believe it. “I didn’t know where the bathroom was,” she offers as an explanation. It’s a flimsy excuse, she knows that, but it’s the best she can do under this kind of pressure.

“Right,” he whispers with a short nod, then follows James.

She stays rooted to her spot, lips tingling with the ghost of James touch and a guilty mind.

—

Hours later, she clings to a pillow as she lays on her bed alone. The same pillow James was resting on less than twelve hours ago.

She breathes in deeply, trying to catch any scent of him she can, but there’s only the scent of her fabric softener.

There’s no James. No citrus shampoo or woodsy cologne nor salty air from the beach near his house. Because he never wears any cologne when he comes to her, ensuring that there’s no trace of him once he leaves.

Like he doesn’t even exist.

—

It ends in a parking lot a month later.

She was waiting for Luna to arrive at the mall but ended up asking for a rain check when James texted her, saying they needed to talk.

‘Meet me behind the mall’, she texts him.

She walks to the back of the building and waits for his red car to show up. She already knows where this conversation is going to go, and her heart shatters at the thought of saying goodbye to him.

She raises her head when she hears a honk in front of her, and she gets in while whispering a small “hey”. He doesn’t start the car again, just settles for turning the ignition key off. She looks at the families leaving the mall through the tinted window, refusing to look at him, as her knee bounces up and down anxiously.

The silence is heavy, and she suddenly feels cold in the August heat.

James takes a deep breath, “We can’t keep doing this.”

She can’t help the snarky comment. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday while you had your fingers buried inside me.” He looks at her unimpressed, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s wrong,” he says— as if she doesn’t already know that. “C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it has to—”

“I told you not to call me that!” she raises her voice, and the car gets silent again. She hates the tears that gather in her eyes, hates that she cares so much about him and their stupid game, but she couldn’t help it. Not when he whispered so many sweet nothings in her ears and caressed her skin so softly, almost afraid to break him if he was too rough.

(Not that he cared about that when he stretched her wide open and thrust so hard into her that the bed frame banged against the wall.)

“You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s over like you weren’t the one that came to me first,” she jeers, and she can see the tick of his jaw as he clenches it. Good, she thinks, make him angry.

“Don’t just blame me. You didn’t say ‘no’ once.” He grounds out, “In fact, I can recall you were begging me to fuck you against the wall.”

Her cheeks turn into a small fire, a slight feeling of shame overcoming her. “Oh, like you were any better!” she exclaims. “‘Been thinking about you for months.’ ‘You have no idea the things you do to me.’ ‘No one can suck my cock like you.’ ‘I care about you!’” She deepens her voice to mock him.

James opens his mouth to keep the ball rolling, and she wants him to do it because it meant that the fight was still on, that they wouldn’t have to end this. Instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m telling you now it’s over. Stop acting like a kid who didn’t get her Christmas present,” he says, knowing exactly what he is doing with those words.

“I’m not a kid,” she snaps, her eyes fighting back angry teats at his dismissal. “Then stop acting like one,” he shrugs.

Her hands turn into fists, nails digging themselves into her palms as she tries to keep her anger at bay. “Do you know how much of myself I gave to you? How many plans with my friends have I cancelled in case you called? How many guys I stopped seeing because they weren’t you?” she rants, her voice increasing in volume as she lets her frustration take over. Then, she pauses. “You’ve ruined me, James.”

Her voice is so pained that it makes his heart clench, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at her. He knows, God, he knows what he’s done, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so lonely with Lily spending so much time at the hospital, and then there she was with her caring and understanding nature. With her adorable laughs and those touches that were so addictive, a mercurial high that gave him the lowest lows whenever he tried to stop.

He keeps his mouth shut; there’s nothing left to say anyway, and it’s better for her to hate him rather than anything else. “You are not going to say anything?” It’s meek, vulnerable, and she wants to slap herself for acting this way. She knew it would never last, that he would always choose her.

He was never hers to lose, so why is she still fighting?

She nods her head in surrender, biting her lip to stop herself from sobbing. The anger now gave way to sadness, “I can’t believe I let you make a fool of me.” Her voice is hoarse, a result of the lump in her throat that prevents her from swallowing comfortably.

She gets out of the car and slams the door shut, then leaves the parking lot, leaving him behind. She keeps walking, fingers gripping the straps of her bag until she reaches an empty street.

The golden sun is ready to dip on the horizon, and she can hear James’s car speeding behind her.

—

She doesn’t let the tears fall until she’s inside her apartment.

The moment she closed the door, she crumbled to her knees, loud sobs falling from her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to gather enough strength to walk to her room.

She cries and cries, buries her face in her pillows and starts sobbing even harder because she can smell him. The salty scent and citrus shampoo finally embedded themselves in the fabric, and she can’t believe that after all those days she craved to feel him close to her, he chooses now to leave a trace behind.

She cries for hours until her eyes are puffy and red, and snot comes out of her nose. Her chest heaves with short breaths that don’t really fill her lungs as she clings to that damn pillow before throwing it across the room. She can’t believe it ended like this: with her completely broken for anyone else while James gets to go back to his life and act like nothing ever happened.

Yet she knows that if she had to choose, she would do it all over again because if she had to choose someone to be her ruination, she would choose James Potter a million times.

TAGLIST: @emmaev @gxtitobxby @ildm4ev @capsmischief @arisblackhole @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @tonystarksmutgarden @blowing-mikey @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @glossiable @remusjlupinisdead @amixedwitch @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour — if you want to be added tap here

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter smut #james potter one shot #james potter fanfiction #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #marauders fanfiction #marauders angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter fluff #marauders fluff #marauders smut

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salemwritesxx · 3 years

Text

𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽.

�� 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌 𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀

⇴ male reader ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: pro hero crazy buff baku meeting y/n's cutesy femboy ex boyfriend? And he gets jealous / insecure bc they are so different

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: jealous bakugou, fluff, implied nsfw but nothing explicit, hickeys

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Hand in hand, you were strolling through Akihabara with Bakugou. The other hand holding two bags of merchandise you had bought – a successful hunt indeed. Katsuki, however, only had one small bag with a new video game he bought for you both to enjoy, so all in all the free day you two had was very relaxing and stress-free for once.

Until it all went down the drain…

“Babe, do you wanna get something to eat before we go back?”, you asked while already looking around. You knew an incredible restaurant that wasn’t too far away from your current location.

“No, [Your.name]! Did you forget already? We need to cook something with the chicken in our fridge before it gets bad.”, Bakugou playfully rolled his eyes while nudging you. To think he was ever having such a …domestic talk with someone. A year ago he would have laughed hysterically at the thought of living together with someone and managing a small household.

“Oh… right.”, you chuckled before you leaned in to smooch him, “Ain’t I lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend who remembers these things.”

“Yeah, right. Keep sweet talking and I might even-“

“YOOOO [YOUR.NAME]!”, someone yelled, interrupting your intimate moment, hence Katsuki shooting him a death glare, however…

“Oh! Akitoshi, hey.”, you greeted the significantly smaller male as well.

“It’s been a hot minute. How you doin’?”, he grinned, then looked at Katsuki, “I see, already slipping into the next pair of panties, huh?”

This little bastard- Though Bakugou’s string of thought was cut when you just awkwardly laughed and hugged his muscular body closer to your side.

“Akitoshi, this is Bakugou Katsuki, my boyfriend, so be nice, okay?”, then you turned to Katsuki who was scowling, “Babe, this is my ex, Ninomiya Akitoshi. We mutually agreed to separate so there weren’t any harsh feelings, he’s a good guy.”

“Nice to meet you, bro!”, Aki tried to break the ice by going in for a fist bump, but Bakugou was not having it as he just kept staring at him.

“Hey…”

While you were talking to your ex for a few moments, Katsuki couldn’t help but start eyeing him up and down. He was small, skinny, feminine looking and kind of dainty. Everything he wasn’t. To be quite honest, Bakugou was the complete opposite. He was as tall as you, very buff and well-trained and suits wanted to cry when he would try them on because of his sheer build he acquired due to being a pro-hero for many years now. And seeing how your type was, very obviously, something very different before you met him… Bakugou was suddenly a little insecure and he hated feeling that way.

“Okay, well, Aki, it was nice meeting you, but we need to go now and catch a train.”

“Same, dude, same. Glad you’ve found someone you like, you look happy, man.”, he said with a small smile as he looked at you and Katsuki, who was still just grunting and holding extra tight onto you.

And with that, you and your boyfriend finally walked back to the train station.

Once you were at home though, you watched as he flopped onto the couch, hence you asked, “Okay, what is going on? Ever since meeting Aki you’ve been quiet.”

“What? No! He’s…”, he paused, then tried to fake a smile, “really… lovely. A nice guy.”

“Babe… I love you but holy fuck you can’t lie.”, then you sat down beside him.

“Hey, talk to me. Did he do something? I know the slipping into panties thing was weird, but-“

“That’s not it, [Your.name].”, Katsuki sighed and crossed his arms.

“Then what is it?”

A long pause followed where you just looked at him and Bakugou stared at the desk in front of him with your and his bags on. Only for him to finally open his mouth after a few moments of silence.

“I look nothing like him.”

“… And that is a problem… why?”, you were visibly confused.

“I mean, fuck he is… he’s a fucking femboy. I just- I am NOTHING like him. Your type is a skinny little dainty femboy and I am literally the complete opposite, so like- Why the fuck do you even like me?”, Katsuki finally blurted out, gesturing with his arms wildly before he flopped back onto the couch.

You, on the other hand, just stared at him for a moment in disbelief.

“That… That is what it’s about? Really?”

“Yeah… You probably could swing him around like a toothpick while I am… well I am heavy.”

“Babe, please. I love you, just the way you are. Just because Aki was one type of guy, doesn’t mean I can’t find another type of guy attractive as well, you know?”, reaching out, you took his hand in yours.

Drawing circles on the back of it, you then slowly progressed to touching his face and softly turning his head so he would look at you eventually.

“Hey…. I love you. I love that you could snap me in half at any possible second.”, thankfully, Katsuki snorted and mumbled an “Idiot.” yet he didn’t break eye contact as his hand slowly wandered down to play with your t-shirt.

“I love you too, [Your.name]… Thank you. I don’t know what happened to me, I guess seeing your ex just fucked with my brain for a second there.”, he then said before leaning in for a kiss that you happily returned.

“Hmh, it’s okay… I know you’re very different from everyone else I’ve dated before, physique and personality vise, but… I am also the most happiest when I’m with you.”, you gently played with his hand while smooching him over and over again.

“So I am better than anyone else, hm?”, Bakugou grinned instantly while being pushed back into the couch willingly, his big, heavy body pressed against your own.

“Hmm absolutely.”, you purred back.

Your hands were already busy slipping underneath his t-shirt as your lips pressed hot kisses onto his sensitive neck, earning his little groan that made your heart jump. Even though Bakugou probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it out loud, but… he certainly was very cute, even if he wasn’t dainty or small.

A very delicious smell softly shook him awake, ruby eyes fluttering open as he looked around for a moment. Sitting back up, Katsuki inevitably had to smile a little when he saw the blanket you put over his naked body, realizing once more how stupid it was to get jealous.

“Babe?”, naked as he was, he walked into the kitchen where the scent was coming from.

“Hey, Kat.”, you turned around a bit, though was it already too late when arms snuck around your hips and you felt a weight on your shoulder.

“Hey… The chicken?”

“The chicken.”, you chuckled and softly nudged his head with your own.

“If you hurry, you can still take a shower before we can eat.”

“Hm… sounds good.”, Katsuki whispered.

However, before he could walk away completely, he turned around once more, catching you off guard a little when he was back to hugging you from behind.

“Also… thanks.”, he only mumbled with red cheeks, before he nudged your head to the side to connect your lips.

“Hmmm…”, you purred while returning his kisses happily.

“Always. Now go.”, with a giggle, you playfully smacked his naked butt when he finally turned around and walked away.

And as Bakugou stood in front of the big bathroom mirror, he couldn’t help but blush even more intensely. His muscular body was visibly covered in hickeys, making him facepalm and sigh. Though… he also couldn’t suppress hat little grin that formed on his lips.

Really… getting jealous was so stupid.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: once more thanks for the request! I really really like buff baku, knowing he could very well snap me in half while still whimpering like a lost puppy and letting himself go during sexy time makes it all the better!

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou x you #jealous bakugou #bakugou x reader

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bokettochild · 3 years

Text

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe crack #idiot writes crack #lu four #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wind #lu twilight #animatic #legend and four are best friends shoot me

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

=================================

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x

PART 4

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone #the darkling fanfiction

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