#please help me idk what possessed me when I had this idea

[enchanted2meetuuu]

Ship names

Oh noooo my hand slipped whoops!

I had this idea when I was literally falling asleep in math so 😊

#carmine x drayton #drayton being iconic #elite four drayton #trainer carmine #pokemkn scarlet and violet #please help me idk what possessed me when I had this idea #fanart #😁

[solbaby7]

If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵

I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗

—

Teach Me

azriel x reader

[ part 2 ]

“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.

“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”

Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”

Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”

“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”

“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”

Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”

Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”

“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.

“And they like that? Us on top?”

“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”

She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”

Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”

She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.

“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.

“Most people knock.”

But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.

Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”

You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.

You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.

Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.

Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”

“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”

“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”

Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.

“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”

“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”

The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”

Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”

“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x you #azriel #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar smut #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #az smut #azriel smut #elain archeron #acotar

[lavender-devotion]

Gambling With Souls (Alastor x GN!Reader)

Summary: You made a deal with Husk a long time ago, and ended up paying a lot more than you bargained for. Now you worked in one of his casinos, waiting on him and the people he gambled with hand and foot. One day Husk is challenged to a game by another Overlord, one with red eyes and a sharp ever-present smile…and, despite everything, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. What happens when the two of them start gambling with souls…and yours is thrown into the betting pool? Disclaimer: Husk is going to act pretty different than he does in the show and, yes, he's not going to be very nice to you---this is not me demonizing him. He's an Overlord, he's gonna act like one.

Tags: Alastor x GN!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), I only know Texas Hold ‘Em so that’s what we’re going with, One-sided Husk x GN!Reader (maybe, idk, it's up to your interpretation) TW: Abuse, Alcohol, Groping Word Count: 3.3k Read it on Ao3 <3

The moment you'd agreed to gamble with Husk, your life had ended.

You were a strong demon, not an Overlord---considering you hadn't owned any souls---but still not someone to mess with. Still, it was an incredibly stupid idea to gamble with an Overlord like him, especially since he was known for his proficiency in such things. You didn't remember what exactly had possessed you to think you could possibly win, but it didn't really matter now, did it?

He'd challenged you, and you had accepted.

You lost.

And now your soul was his to do with as he pleased.

Of all the demons who owned souls, Husk was considered by far the worst. He was a gambler and a drunk. He won hands, yes, but he also lost them---and it wasn't exactly uncommon for him to bet the souls he owned in lieu of money. Especially against other Overlords.

You could be working for him in one of his casinos as a dealer and in the span of one hand you were suddenly being dragged to the Vee district and forced to work as a porn star for Valentino, subject to his abuse and the abuse of your "co-stars," only to see your pain broadcasted across Hell to get people off.

Or to the Carmine district to work in a factory, building weapons that would probably kill you one day and dealing with the effects of the toxic gas and physical labor, slowly decaying over time.

Or to the district owned by Zestial...no one knew what happened to the souls he owned, and you sure as hell didn't want to find out.

Oddly enough, though, Husk seemed to take a liking to you. He always had you work at his personal gambling table---serving drinks, food, or rigging the game in his favor when he was in particularly deep shit and didn't want to lose.

And he never bet your soul.

Ever.

Sometimes he would bet you doing certain...activities, sometimes he would bet your time, sometimes he would bet a kiss, but never your soul.

Sometimes you were grateful for it, for the security it brought and the routine---you were rarely ever caught off guard when it came to Husk. Grateful for the knowledge that, hey, at least you would never be traded off to someone worse.

Other times, however, you hated it. Hated that he treated you like his prized show pony, hated that he was willing to pass you around but never loosen the chain on your neck, hated the fact that there was no escape...

...at least, there was no escape, until Husk gambled with him.

----------

It was never a good thing when Husk called you over to his table, so when one of the girls you worked with waved you down and directed you over to him---right before the end of your shift, I might add---you were...less than thrilled, let's say.

It had already been a hard enough day. It was like every jackass in Hell had decided to all get assigned to your tables at once---being loud and unruly, smacking your ass, spilling drinks, causing trouble---and, of course, none of your coworkers were any help. Your feet were killing you from all of the moving around, a customer had spilled a drink on you so now your uniform was more uncomfortable than usual, and you could definitely feel a migraine coming on.

The last thing you wanted to do was stay however many hours past your scheduled time just to plaster on a fake smile and be Husk's plaything. All you wanted was to go home and go to sleep, but the universe apparently hated you.

Fuck your life.

As you approached Husk's table, your attention was immediately drawn to the man sitting across from him. He was noticeably taller than Husk, even without the antlers atop his head---joined by a pair of red and black ears that matched the rest of his hair. He was dressed in a red suit and tailcoat that seemed to be 1930's in style, and a staff in the shape of a vintage microphone rested right next to him.

What was most eye-catching about him, though, was his smile.

Husk was an irritating man, that's just what he was like. He was arrogant without the sense to hide it, too certain of his own success every time he played a game, a hefty shit talker, usually drunk, and irritable and rude when he wasn't. Half of your job was often playing nice to soothe his opponents, trying to keep him out of trouble. Like I said, he was an irritating man.

And yet, even though it was obvious that Husk was getting on this man's last nerve, his smile never faltered. It was...unsettling, to say the least. Oddly enough, though, you found your interest in the man piquing---he didn't look like the type to gamble, after all, so what was he doing here?

As soon as you made it to the table, you plastered on a smile of your own and greeted them, mentally preparing yourself so that you didn't try to throttle one or both of them.

"Hello gentleman," you said, voice falsely bright and cheerful, "will I be dealing for you today or grabbing some drinks?"

Husk turned to you, grinning cockily and...oddly not drunk. Not sober, of course, but clearly more sober than you'd ever seen him before.

"Dealin' for us today, sweetheart," he said, smooth and low---almost flirty. You mentally shuddered.

Despite your distaste, you nodded and made your way to the middle of the table, going ahead and opening a fresh deck of cards before shuffling them---waiting for Husk to tell you which game they were going to play, and therefore what you'd be dealing out.

He turned to his opponent, "now, what game 're we playin'?"

"Your choice," the man replied, his voice overlaid by sharp radio static.

Husk laughed, and part of you wondered if this stranger had a death wish. Didn't he know who Husk was? Didn't he know what a terrible idea it was to give him, not only the advantage of playing in one of his casinos and choosing the dealer, but also the advantage of choosing the game?

What was he playing at?

Never one to pass up an opportunity to gain the upper hand, Husk---grinning---told you the game he wanted to play, and you began dealing out the cards. Quickly, the stranger recognized it.

"Ah, Texas Hold Em', hm?" He hummed, static crackling slightly in an almost-laugh, "a classic! What made you choose such a game?"

"I just figured a basic game like this would be easy enough for you to keep up with," Husk replied, the little insult sliding smoothly off his tongue. The stranger's eyes narrowed and you cringed, mentally praying to whatever god would listen that he wouldn't take his anger at Husk out on you, as was all too common among the characters he gambled with. Thankfully, his eyes never left Husk and he made no move to harm you as you set up the game, now divvying up the chips between them.

Just before you were about to start the game, however, Husk held up a hand to stop you---a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you shudder.

"Why don't we make this game a little more interesting," he said, and you could already guess what he was about to suggest.

The stranger's head tilted ever-so slightly, "what did you have in mind?"

"Why don't we gamble with something a little more valuable than money...something like the souls we own."

The stranger's smile widened imperceptibly, and you got the uncanny feeling that this is what he'd wanted in the first place. Not Husk's money, but the souls in his possession.

'Perhaps Husk's soul as well,' something in your mind whispered, but you brushed it off. Husk never gambled his soul either, so there's no way that would happen---even if that was what the stranger was there for.

Once the stranger voiced his agreement, Husk snapped his fingers and his chips radiated with a silver glow, each chip being branded with a mark that symbolized exactly whose soul was being bet. His soul was branded on a Black chip, the most expensive piece---ever present, even if he'd never bet it. Yours was a Red, the second most expensive.

He gestured to the stranger, signaling that it was his turn. The stranger followed suit and snapped his fingers, this time a bright green enveloping the chips in front of him---starkly contrasting to the rest of his appearance. His chips were now branded with their own marks as well. A Black chip with green details was branded with a bright red 'A,' and you could only assume that was his own soul.

After it was clear that the two were ready, you flipped the first three cards, and the game began.

----------

At first, things almost seemed normal, once the game had started.

You dealt the hands, split the chips in the betting pool, and watched as the two Overlords went back and forth with the flow of the game. Occasionally another one of Husk’s employees would come over and serve them drinks, but other than that none of it caught your attention.

Well, one thing caught your attention.

The stranger’s shadow.

It seemed to dance around with a mind of its own, never losing its smile, just like the stranger himself. The shadow sometimes messed with the chips on the stranger’s side of the board, sometimes it played with the ice in the empty glasses on the table, but most of the time it seemed almost…fascinated by you.

It messed with your hair, helped you shuffle and collect the cards, tugged playfully at the edges of your uniform, and simply stuck by your side most of the time. It was a nice change from the attention you were used to dealing with from customers, or from Husk himself.

The way people would scream at you when they were angry, the wandering hands that would grope or hit or grab, the catcalls and lustful threats, the glasses of alcohol that people would throw at you…this was nothing like any of that. You liked it, it made you feel…precious, in a way. Valued. Cared for, oddly enough.

The stranger seemed amused by the antics, occasionally raising an eyebrow at his shadow only to receive an innocent shrug in response.

…

Husk, on the other hand, was not so amused.

“Get control of your fuckin’ shadow,” Husk snapped at the stranger as it tugged gently on a piece of your hair, drawing a small smile from you. One that immediately disappeared as you heard Husk’s voice.

“Now now,” the stranger chastised, seeming even more amused at Husk’s irritation, “it’s only having a little fun, no need to lose your temper.”

Husk muttered something under his breath, no doubt some string of insults, but still, he dropped the subject. You tried not to pay any more attention to the shadow after that, not wanting Husk to get angry at you as well.

Husk didn’t seem to notice…but the stranger did.

“Husker, you have quite the specimen working for you here," he said, radio static curling around his voice in an almost...flirtatious(?) purr as he turned to look at you, "what's your name, my dear?"

You flushed slightly before giving him your name, asking his in return. After all, you'd prefer to stop thinking of him as "the stranger."

He repeated your name slowly, sounding out each syllable, before responding, "Alastor, it's a pleasure to meet-"

"Your turn," Husk interrupted, voice grating, and the stranger- Alastor's gaze snapped to him, lip curling even as his smile stretched.

"Of course," he replied, irritation clear in his tone, "pets have such short attention spans, wouldn't want you getting distracted from our game, now would we?"

"The only one getting distracted here is you."

Alastor only hummed in response, raising the bet as he did so.

You glanced between the two, the tension between them palpable, and you were more than a little worried that a fight might break out---but, thankfully, neither made a move towards the other. They just sat there, glaring.

You cleared your throat, trying to dispel some of the animosity, "raise or call?"

Husk pushed a stack of chips forward, "raise."

----------

This is how the game went, back and forth.

Husk winning some hands, and Alastor winning some in return---almost like a dance, a game.

You watched, enthralled, as the two continued on...and as Husk slowly, surely, lost more and more souls. Usually, when it was clear that one of the players were going to lose, they would call the game off---cut their losses and stop before things got any worse.

But, for whatever reason, Husk refused to do just that. In fact, the more hands Husk lost, the more determined he seemed to keep playing---to the point where, if you didn't know him well, you'd think he was gambling under the influence. It was...surprising, to say the least, and by the time Husk seemed to realize how deep of a hole he'd dug himself into, it was too late. His only choice was to keep playing and hope his luck turned around.

He had no reason to be worried, though, and he knew that.

All because he had you.

You see, there was a reason why Husk always had you serving his table. It was because of your power, what you could do for him during these games.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly what your power was, since it manifested differently depending on what you used it to do, but---in simple terms---it was almost like you had control over reality. A small part of it, at least. You could control things...well, under your control. Your appearance, the clothes you wore, anything you made, or---in this case---any game you dealt for.

There weren't any rules against the dealer controlling the game. Husk made certain of it. There was even a clause in the fine print of every contract people signed to play with him, one that gave you full permission to do as you pleased during the game, as long as you were the dealer.

So, sooner or later, Husk would give you the signal to turn things in his favor and you would do as you were told.

...

Well, apparently, it was sooner.

Husk gave you the signal, and you sunk into the familiar warmth of your power---subtly seizing control of the game. You knew the cards in Husk's hands and in Alastor's, as well as all the cards on the board.

Alastor would have two pair, Husk would have one.

Your fingers twitched slightly and the unflipped cards changed, giving Husk three of a kind and Alastor one pair.

Husk won that round.

Safe to say, Husk started to get "spontaneously" lucky, and get some of his souls---his power---back. Alastor, surprisingly, didn't seem at all bothered or shocked by this. If anything, he seemed completely relaxed, as if he wasn't losing hundreds of souls with every hand. It unsettled you, and it definitely seemed to unsettle Husk---even though he tried his best to hide it.

Eventually, though, just as you thought that---surely---Alastor had had enough and was about to call the game off, he said something that stopped you in your tracks.

"All in."

Your power faltered for a moment as you stared at him, eyes wide, and you lost all knowledge of what was on the board. Husk was staring too, mouth hanging open, before a surprised laugh slipped from his mouth.

"You're kiddin', there's no way you-"

Once again, Alastor simply said, "all in."

Sliding his soul chip forward. Smile ever-present.

You glanced at Husk, silently wondering what he was going to do. Even with you controlling the game, he'd still never gambled his soul. Whether that was because he didn't trust that you'd let him win or because he didn't want to take the risk of your power failing, you didn't know, but still...he never bet it.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for his answer, and, after a moment, Husk shook his head in disbelief...before calling Alastor's bet. A first for him, and for you. You took a deep breath and took control of the game again, ready to change the cards, before Alastor---once again---stopped you in your tracks.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, and you froze.

"...what?"

"Is this what you want?" He repeated, sounding genuinely curious, "to spend the rest of your afterlife working here, for this man? Letting him bet your body, your choices, letting him control your free will?"

You blinked. Surprised.

No one had ever asked you what you wanted before.

"I don't..." you trailed off, unsure of exactly what to say to that. Unsure of how to answer the question.

Husk glared at him, the topic of conversation clearly hitting a nerve, "why don't you shut the fuck up and mind your own business you-"

"You don't have to, my dear," Alastor continued, cutting Husk off, "you do have a choice, you know. You could choose to help me, instead of him, or to let fate take its hold."

It hit you then that Alastor knew that Husk was cheating, that he knew you were helping him. And still, he played the game...still, he treated you with kindness and respect.

He was right, though, you did have a choice. The contract of the game specified that you could do whatever you wanted with your control of the game, so long as you were the dealer and not one of the players.

If you wanted, you could make Husk lose.

You could force him into the same position that he'd forced you into.

You could break free from his grip.

Husk growled your name and your gaze snapped toward him. It was a warning, a threat. He owned your soul, he could do whatever he pleased with it, so you better listen to him.

Alastor said your name softly, drawing your attention back to him. A careful reminder. You still had a choice in this, Husk couldn't make you do anything right now. You could always choose not to help him, to help Alastor instead. All for the chance at a better life.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes...

...

...before letting go of all control of the game.

Whatever happened now, it was up to the cards. Not you.

Husk slammed his hands down on the table, making you jump back as piles of chips tumbled to the floor, but before you could get farther away, he lunged at you and grabbed your throat---seething with rage.

"YOU FUCKIN' BITCH, HOW DARE YOU-"

Before he could finish his sentence, or cause you any harm, a green chain suddenly formed around his neck and pulled him back---making him fall to the ground. Your gaze snapped up, only to find Alastor at the other end of the chain---his shadow laughing behind him, grin wide. From there you glanced at the table, only to find-

Alastor had a Royal Flush...

...and Husk had nothing.

You glanced back at Husk and then, again, at Alastor---the reality of everything slowly setting in. Your soul no longer belonged to Husk, even if you were still tied to another Overlord. Now, though, Husk had fallen from his ivory tower.

Now he was just like you.

You couldn't help the hysterical laughter that bubbled up from your chest, a weight you hadn't even known was there suddenly disappearing. It was over. It was all over.

"I guess the house always wins," you managed to get out through your laughter, unable to contain the bright smile that took over your face. You were free of him. You were free of him.

"Indeed, my dear," Alastor replied, chuckling at your little joke, "I can already tell, you and I are going to get along just fine."

You would never admit it, but you thought so too.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #devotion’s posts: fic stuff 🪻

[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott fanfic #theo nott fluff #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fluff #fanfic #fluff #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x fem!reader

[songmingisthighs]

Temptation Touched My Tongue

group : txt

pairing : perv devil!soobin × reader

genre : fantasy, smut

wc : 3.5 k

warning : explicit smut, unprotected sex (nopity nope), pervert behaviour (peeping), masturbation (f), unrealistic depiction of sex ???, soobin is desperate and depraved idk he's nasty but he couldn't help himself :(, dubcon (??), monster cock!soobin, i do not know how to label this shit because i suck at labeling and i do nawt know what this crap falls under. possessiveness?, toxic idea of 'belonging', a wee bit blood ?? (nothing major like the shinning's elevator scene, it's literally a bite to the lip). idk anymore man

a/n : i need to stop starting new shit at 3 am and just get the fuck to sleep

buy me coffee ?

The night was amazing.

You finally went out on a date with the cute guy you met at a library. And when he dropped you off back home, not only did he promise to call you and set up a next date, but he also kissed you. Choi Soobin was beyond your expectations. Outside, he looked soft and kind but his mouth. Damn his talented mouth, especially his tongue. It surprised you how his tongue felt like warm honey that melted when it tangled with yours and you swore you tasted sweetness as you two kissed.

Choi Soobin affected you so much from his kiss that you now found yourself on your bed, legs spread wide open with your finger furiously rubbing your clit.

"F-fuck," you moaned as you flick your bundle of nerve, making your thighs tremble as your muscles tighten. As you continue pleasuring yourself to the thought of Soobin and his talented tongue in your cunt, pleasuring you which hopefully would pleasure him too. The sounds you were making were loud and obscene but you lived alone so no one would complain about your obnoxious moans this late nor did you have to worry about anyone barging into your room to see you bare naked. Honestly, you were rather embarrassed that you were pleasuring yourself to the thought of your date, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn the lights in your room on. But what were you supposed to do? Since the kiss, your body was burning up and you just had this urge and Soobin's name repeated over and over in your head along with explicit imaginations. Specifically over his cock. You wondered about his cock, what it feels like and how it looks. The thoughts just kept pouring in but you can't stop, your body couldn't stop your desire for Soobin and it was pathetic, you felt disgusting. Tears began pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision. Which was unfortunate because you would've been able to see the man outside your window panting like a dog, eyes glued to your glistening cunt as his hand grabbed onto his cock from his trousers.

Soobin knew he targeted the right person when he saw just how pretty you looked with the remnants of tear that glittered in the moonlight and the flush on your skin that made you look adorable. Plus, as a devil (literally), he could feel how hot your body was for him. He knew that you were thinking about him, imagining him doing things to you, but he couldn't do anything until you gave him verbal consent. You have to call out for him even just a tiny bit and Soobin hoped to listen to you call for him, acknowledge your want for him so he could have his way with you. All of the ways he could think of.

"Baby, baby please," he moaned, hands pressing against the window next to his warm cheek. Soobin let his tongue loll out, allowing his pants to fog up the cold window. "Baby, I want you, please I need to have you, I need to taste you," he begged, fingernails scratching the surface of the glass hard enough that streaks appeared in their wake as the devil drag his fingers down like a cat trying to claw his way in. The bulge in Soobin's pants was starting to hurt but the pain just drove his desire for you even more. It was as if his confines were a reminder that without you, his release seemed pointless, futile even because it wasn't you. For him, it's you or no one whatsoever.

Just as Soobin was about to make his presence more known (despite how risky it is in case you rejected him), he saw your legs clamp shut and your body arching beautifully. Soobin was truly mesmerized by the way you looked, his jaw was dropping in amazement. He could only imagine how you would feel as you cum, cunt clenching on his cock with a vice grip. Soobin started to get dizzy with possibilities because he was seeing you cumming before his eyes. Oh how he wanted to lick your slick away, remove the trail it created and replace it with a trail of his spit. He wanted to make you his officially.

And then it came. The moment Soobin has been waiting for.

"Soobin, fuck, please, I want your cock in me," You whimpered, letting some tear drop from your eyes.

For a moment, Soobin's breath caught in his throat (not that he needed to breathe, it was just a habit at this point), unable to move as he was too surprised to process what he had just heard. Then he felt it, he felt the pull that was planted by the temptation that had taken over your body, the very driving force that caused you to need to masturbate to the thought of Soobin. The same temptation he ever so gently placed on your tongue, the sweetness of sin that you succumbed to.

"Finally."

Without wasting a second, Soobin made himself appear in your room, completely naked with only his glowing orbs made completely visible in the darkness.

You were trying to catch your breath as you contemplated why the fire within you hadn't died down. There was a slight relief when you managed to make yourself cum but for some reason, the desire only doubled. "Fuck, I need something," you grunted, sitting up on your bed to calm yourself down slightly so you could hopefully walk out of your room to grab a glass of water without needing to rub one out again. But when your eyes focused on the objects in your room, you gasped when you saw the silhouette of a tall man standing in the shadow of your room. "What the hell!?" You screeched, grabbing your blanket haphazardly from between your legs to hopefully cover your breasts and cunt that was still leaking arousal. "Get out of my room!" you told the person, pointing at the direction of your front door. For some reason, your words sounded half-hearted even to you. The man looked very familiar even though it was just his silhouette and you knew you should be afraid of his glowing eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to actually be afraid. If anything, you were drawn to them. The more you looked straight at them, you more you could make out the golden specs.

The figure chuckled darkly, effectively breaking your train of thought. "Oh honey, my sweet sweet dumb girl, how could you tell the person you just thought of as you made yourself come to go away?" To say that you were surprised when the man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight was an understatement. Your mouth hung open to protest, ask if it was really Soobin, contemplate if that was the same Soobin who you just went on a date with, tell him that you think it was a dream, anything. But you can't seem to say anything. It was as if your mouth wasn't cooperating with your brain. You weren't sure what you were looking at exactly because you were still trying to figure out why your date is in your room. Then you accidentally looked lower, straight to his monster cock that's standing upright. The tip reached his belly button and God you wanted it in your mouth. In your pussy. You want to be the one who made it cum.

Soobin felt his chest swell with pride from the way your eyes were hungrily staring at his cock. Be it his influence or your own desire for him, Soobing felt his dick twitch when the hand that was holding your blanket up to shield your nakedness from him lowered to reveal your breasts before it dropped completely to reveal your clenching cunt and parting legs as if inviting him to nestle there. A smirk bloomed on Soobin's face and he couldn't help but start pumping his dick, coaxing pearly white liquid to leak from his slit. Your tongue darted out automatically as if wanting a taste and your hips rolled upwards. The movement somehow made your arousal become more prominent on Soobin's nose. He could smell how needy you were and he loved it because it was him doing that to you, there was nothing else in your head other than him and the need for him to fuck you silly with his big cock.

"Didn't you say you want my cock? This cock?" When Soobin dropped to his knees on the bed in front of you, you instinctively sat up straighter and your knees bent a little higher. "Good girl, you're presenting yourself so well for me," Soobin smiled. The sight of him smiling at you was so ethereal, he looked like an angel but his words held nothing but the promise of sinful pleasure. The dichotomy of this man was thrilling, it left you wanting more before anything could even happen. How was that even possible?

"Is that where you want me to bury my cock in? Your dripping pussy?" he mocked, causing you to whimper in shame as you tried to close your legs, suddenly hyper-aware that your cunt was free for him to see. This displeased Soobin however. He let out a disapproving growl that was way louder than you expected, the vibration shot right through your pussy, and you couldn't help but clench. Easily, Soobin grabbed hold of one of your legs and pulled you closer to him, "Did I tell you to cover what's mine?" his angelic smile was replaced by a disdained scowl almost immediately. "N-no," you squeaked out. Again, as if it was a light switch, Soobin's expression changed to a more pleased one when he heard your reply. "At least my baby knows to respond to me. You're so good for me aren't you baby? You're made for me, that cunt is made for me," he said as he dropped to all fours and placed himself right above you.

Soobin could feel your breath hitch the moment his face came close to you. He was addicted to the way you shied away due to his size, both body and cock. Especially his cock. The memory of you eyeing his bobbing cock will forever be engraved in his mind. Despite the very sexual position you both were in, you somehow managed to maintain such an innocent stature at the sight of his cock lining above you, giving you a rough estimation of how far he would reach. Truly, if that moment was real and not a dream like you thought it was, you would need to receive medical attention come morning because he was definitely going to rearrange your gut.

Gently, Soobin cupped the side of your face and he let his thumb trace your bottom lip gently, "Will you let me fuck you now? Will you let me use my cock to pleasure you and then cum inside you to make you mine?" He asked with such genuine that it sounded more like a love confession than permission to fuck you. Your body tingled in excitement as your cunt fluttered at the thought of his cock splitting you open. Soobin's eyes watched your every movement, awaiting your response with much patience. Not that he minded anyway, he loved the sight of your tongue peeking from between your lips to wet the bottom lip slightly. To coax an answer out of you, Soobin even lowered his hips so his cock was resting on your cunt. You gasped when you felt the hard appendage slip between your folds and started rubbing, nudging your sensitive clit every so often while fulfilling its mission to be completely covered in your arousal. The feeling was dizzying, there was a slight painful edge as you were still sensitive from your previous release, but the heaviness was heavenly.

"Fuck yes, Soobin, I want you to fuck me and then cum inside me. Make me yours," you moaned out.

That was all Soobin needed to draw his hips back and push into your pulsing hole. The size alone was overwhelming enough to accommodate, you hadn't realized that his length seemed never-ending. As Soobin continued pushing inside, you wondered where you got the confidence to even let him in you in the first place. "S-Soobin!" you whimpered, eyes shutting as your body tried to curl inwards but Soobin was having none of that, he wanted to see you as he get his whole cock inside you. With steady hands, Soobin pushed your body back by the shoulders. "You can do it, you're my good girl. MY good girl," he emphasized, wanting you to realize that as his good girl, you were going to receive everything he had to give you. It wasn't until your body started convulsing and your breasts pressed to his chest that he realized what was happening. Soobin stared at you with wide eyes and muscles clenching in response to your pussy clenching on his cock as you came on him hard. The suddenness of your orgasm caused Soobin to halt his pushing in order for him to witness you coming undone just from him trying to get himself inside you. Your nipples rolled against his smooth skin, inviting him to take hold of one breast in his large hand that immediately rolled one pebbled peak between his fingers expertly. The stimulation was so overwhelming that your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you didn't even realize that Soobin had taken advantage of your orgasm-hazed state and slick to push himself all the way until you felt him nudging your cervix. "Fuck, Soobin! S-so big, so g-good," you stuttered, hands finding their way to his back, scratching his fair skin as if to emphasize your fucked out state. The sting from the scratch was welcomed with a deep grunt from Soobin who closed his eyes as he paired the pain and the pleasure from how hard your pussy was gripping him. In his mind, it was proof that even your body didn't want him to go anywhere, it wanted him to stay nestled like that because you truly are his.

Your mouth hung open when Soobin started rolling his hips, pulling slightly back before pushing in again experimentally. You let out a long moan at the first snap of his hips which made Soobin chuckle, "Does it feel good, baby? Do I feel good? Am I filing you up?" Soobin knew the answer but he desperately wanted to hear it directly from you, he wanted to see you replying to him like the good girl you are. You nodded furiously at his question, "I-I can feel," you gasped loudly when Soobin hit a particular spot that made your knees snap around Soobin's slender waist, "I can feel you everywhere, Soobin!" Your hips rolled upwards to meet his hovering one as your hand dropped to begin a trail from where you and Soobin connected, "I can feel you in my pussy," your hand then moved up before it rested on your stomach, "And in my tummy," you moaned. It was barely anything, but the simple use of the word 'tummy' made Soobin exhale shakily, eyes blaring before he grabbed your knees and pushed them apart as high and as wide as they could go.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy."

That was the last thing you remembered clearly before Soobin started pistoning inside you. If you thought you were loud when you were touching yourself, now you straight up sound like you were murdered. Well, you believe part of you was anyway. "S-Soobin!" You squealed loudly, hands now finding purchase on his wide shoulders. Soobin couldn't even respond to you as he was enjoying your cunt. He had a manic look on his face; a crazed smile with his tongue lolling from the side, drool dripping from his watering mouth to your skin, slobbering all over you like a dog at the sight of his favourite treat. Which technically was true, you were his favourite treat and he once again felt glad that he chose you.

The pace he was going was purely animalistic, a speed that can't be achieved by a human being and it was only then that you considered that Soobin might not be human at all. He was too perfect, too sinfully perfect to be just a human being but you couldn't seem to care, you couldn't find it in yourself to find it wrong if he was indeed not a human being. In fact, the mere thought got you chasing his lips, frantically pulling him down so your lips could meld together. It was the sloppiest sex you've ever had but you didn't mind, you couldn't seem to mind. Not even when you heard your dripping pussy squelch or felt spit run down your chin, especially not when Soobin hit that one spot that got you seeing stars and toes curl. The sudden hit caused you to bite down on Soobin's bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood that you instinctively licked away. If Soobin wasn't whipped for you before, he was definitely beyond whipped for you now.

It didn't take much for the tension to build back up in your body, a sign of your oncoming orgasm. Above anything, it was rather understandable that you would be cumming once again so quick as you had orgasmed two times before. But you still felt embarrassed that it came so quickly. So you detached your lips from Soobin and looked away with your eyes shut, willing yourself to not cum just this. Unbeknownst to you, Soobin didn't like you separating from him if he didn't initiate it because he knew if he initiated it, it was because he wanted to do something more. So he sat back on his heels, the movement made him pull his cock away slightly which managed to jolt you up in surprise. You saw the scowl on his face and before you could even ask him what was happening, he had expertly flipped you over on your stomach without pulling out before resuming his abuse on your cunt.

"How dare you pull away from me! You, who was thinking over me while you were touching yourself," he growled menacingly. You couldn't see his face but you felt how displeased he was simply by how he was treating you. "I'm sorry Soobin, I-" You couldn't even let him know why you pulled away because Soobin had slapped you on the ass harshly that you were sure you'd feel it when you sit down the next day. "I don't need your pathetic excuse," he scoffed as he shifted your legs into a position he wanted, "Remember that you're mine, baby, you don't get to do things your way anymore," you could practically hear the smirk on Soobin's voice and frankly you found it hot. He had managed to slip your right leg between his legs as your left leg was bent to the side with his left knee anchoring under it. "I'll make you not forget that you're mine," he said as he grabbed your arms and used them as anchors on both sides of your head.

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Bruised knuckles

request: Obsessed with your Ruhn fics! Can you please maybe do one where he gets jealous on a night out with a reader where he sees a ale button in her and he gets very possessive over his mate and she loves it

a/n: idk what it is about this man that gets me going lately. I don’t understand this.

warning: blood, fighting

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ruhn didn’t like doing business on nights out. Especially not when you tagged along. Tonight was supposed to be different. He was supposed to take you out. A date night. One that was already long overdue. He had been a shit boyfriend lately. Fuck if he didn’t think he was edging into the territory of an ex at times. So, he had stepped up. Cut down on the time with the boys. Cut his work short just to pick you up from work.

So to say that he had practically burned the phone in his hands when the message pinged. But it was from his sister. Interest conflict. Both were family in different ways. But Ruhn had always dreamed his relationship with Bryce would be different. Better. So denying her felt like burning another bridge. And she rarely asked. “I’ll be real quick," he muttered against the shell of your ear. “And then I will be fully yours all night." A boyish grin on his lips, one that shined brighter than the gentle smile on your face. But you were always gentle. So gentle and sweet. Ruhn knew that he had swung way higher than he could reach when he tried to smitten you the night Dec introduced you to him. “Just do your thing and come back in one piece," you muttered back, leaning in to press a kiss to Ruhn’s lips before pushing him back slightly, nudging his legs back with your heel.

Now Ruhn just wanted to get back. It had been forty minutes since he had left, and if, from the way he had been constantly glancing at his clock, the man didn’t get the message that he was done, he no longer knew what would help his case. When they finally parted ways, Rugh stopped at the bar first. He needed a couple of shots to loosen the tension in his neck. The last thing he wanted was to bring his shit mood to you. He also got you another drink that nearly shattered in Ruhn’s grip when his eyes landed on the private VIP lounge.

There was another man there. Where was his fucking security? Man, he left to look after you. The fuck sure had a death wish with the way he leaned forward. Constantly trying to brush his knuckles over your exposed legs. You didn’t seem interested. If anything, you looked annoyed. The male chatted away as if he was the most interesting thing here. While you sat there with an unamused look on your face, swirling your drink from time to time.

Ruhn shoved the glass at some random girl who was the closest to him as he strolled forward, undoing a couple of buttons on his shirt as he went. “You can touch it if you want," Ruhn’s blood vessels nearly popped at the male's words, the way he flexed his arm in front of you. “Give me a reason to not bash your teeth in,” he growled as he yanked the guy up by his shirt. "Chill, my guy, just rounding chicks up, seeing the vibe," the guy pushed back against Ruhn, laughing. “I’ll show you the vibe," Ruhn growled, his hand coming to the male's hair as he turned to drag him out.

"Ruhn," you called from behind. “Stay there," he growled back, more and more people turning to stare now. He had barely made it outside before his fist collided with the male's jaw. “You ever think," Ruhn hissed, “On coming up to women and rounding chicks up," another blow landed on his jaw, pained grounds echoing. “I will personally find you." Ruhn hissed at the bloody face in front of him. He was seeing red. Even the idea of the smallest sent off this man on you was driving him into overdrive.

The metal door creaked. “Take care of this." Your voice filled the back side of the alley. But Ruhn’s anger only rose higher as the two men who were on watch tonight came into view. “Where were you?” Ruhn growled, yanking one of them by the shirt. “We just..." the man began to say, but Ruhn quickly cut in. “Fired. Both of you," he hissed. Ready to shout when you come into view. Grasping his face. Your long nails digging into his cheeks as you scowled at him.

“Take a fucking breath in," you hissed. Your scent wrapped around him. Calming Ruhn’s mind. You always felt close to him. The mating bond made sure of it. But now… His fingers reached for your hips, pulling you slightly closer. “Popping off like a firecracker," you huffed, pushing his hands back, and making Ruhn growl. He wanted to feel you close. No, needed to. “You didn’t need to go and do all that." You threw your hands in the air, turning away from him.

Ruhn didn’t think; he let the need within him act as he reached for your neck, pulling you back against his chest. “Don’t turn away from me when you yell," he hissed into your ear. “Don’t go caveman on me," you growled back, but you didn’t push his hand away. No, instead, your fingers brushed over his. “I thought we were over this," you muttered as Ruhn leaned in, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder. Breathing you in. But there wasn’t even a single note from someone else. You. Shit tones of him and a dusting of the things you did before you had even climbed into his car tonight.

“I would have kept you locked in your cage for a while longer," you teased, reaching back to brush your fingers through his hair. “Very funny," Ruhn said. He knew that he had to work on his rage when it came to other males being near you. But the simplest thought of someone else being by your side. Someone else making you laugh. Having your full attention. This was the universe laughing at him. Poking at the fact that he haven’t been valuing who was by his side. Showing him how it would feel from another perspective.

"Hey!", Your delicate fingers brushed over his cheek. Ruhn didn’t even feel you shifting in his arms. “You blanked on me, bad boy." You pinched Ruhn’s cheek smiling, but he can’t bring himself to return the expression. “Fuck, I ruined tonight," he sighed. “You can go ahead and name me the shittest boyfriend," Ruhn huffed in defeat. “Ruhn, we already talked about this," you sighed. “We are both adults, both busy," you reasoned.

“But you don’t deserve that half-time bullshit," Ruhn hissed back. “You can and should just walk away." You stood staring at him for a heartbeat. "Ruhn," you breathe out, your heart aching. He didn’t lift his eyes to meet yours. “My love hasn’t changed just because we had a harder month," you said, stepping closer. “I missed you, yes. But I won’t just pack my bags and go. I love you, silly." Resting your chin on his chest, you tried to catch his eyes. “We’re a team," you mutter, “Even if you leave your dirty underwear all over the place," you shake your head, managing to drag a light chuck from Ruhn.

“I don’t like other men near you like that," he muttered. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think everyone got the message clear; you don’t need to worry." His arm snaked around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. Brushing his lips over your forehead a couple of times. You didn’t rush him. Letting him ground himself for a moment more before your eyes landed on his hand. Angry, red knuckles are visible even in dim light.

A soft gasp slipped past your lips, “Your hand." You pulled it up for inspiration. “We need to clean this up," you frowned. “It’ll be healed before we even get home; don't worry about it," he promised. You let out a deep sigh. Standing in his arms for a moment longer. “I want shitty fries and a burger," you puffed, making Ruhn let out a laugh. It was better for both of your sakes to just go back home anyway. “Order while we drive; we’ll eat it in our pajamas." Ruhn pulled your chin up, kissing you tenderly one last time before spinning you around. Slapping your bum while he was at it, making you walk ahead of him. Laughing as you turned back, practically blinding him with that long nail of yours upon your middle finger.

#ruhn danaan x you #ruhn danaan x oc #ruhn danaan imagine #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan #ruhn crescent city #prince ruhn #crescent city imagine #crescent city x reader #crescent city #crescent city x oc

[fan-goddess]

could you write something with dom!aegon idk why i get the feeling that he’d be downright mean when he’s jealous 😵‍💫

Authors Note: Of course I can! I definitely see what you mean so I made him mean especially for you 😉 (also just realised this is my first Aegon request 😅)

Summary: Aegon doesn’t like it when you talk to his brother

Warnings: jealousy, spanking, dirty talk, P in v sex, orgasm denial, ass play if you squint, breeding kink (if I miss any let me know)

Taglist: @lovelykhaleesiii,

The ball has been the hands idea of uniting whatever support they had. A joyful occasion he had claimed. Yet when everyone turned up and the music tuned for people to dance to, no one did. It turned into a political evening where men would show there wives off and drink till there hearts content.

Your own husband was more leaning towards the second part. He’d left you early in the evening when a tray of a dornish red passed him and he chased after it eagerly like a wolf in the north would chase its prey, and as annoyed as you should be by his departure you cannot help but find it strangely endearing.

“I’m surprised my brother has left you alone, given his habits.” A voice breaks you from your thoughts, and when you turn around you are greeted by the face of Aemond.

“A certain Dornish Red took his priorities. Is Helaena not with you?”

“The noise and chatter, aswell as the stress of the babe became too much for her, so she’s gone to enjoy the company of the twins.” A rare small smile makes its way on Aemonds face at the mention of his dear wife and the children. It’s adorable to see the usual stoic and emotionless Aemond find such utter joy in the small family he has made for himself.

“Ahh. Give her my best when you see her next please dear brother.” You yourself cannot help but smile too. Helaena always seemed to have that effect on people. Making them adore her with no real intention.

Aemond and yourself talk like this for a while, with the only interruption being the refill of each others cups. You make sure to inquire on how Helaena’s doing as of late. The babe it seems is making her latest pregnancy more challenging than her time with the twins. Aemond reassures you though he is making her rest, as much as she protests to both his and your amusement.

Eventually though, the night begins to turn dark, and Aemonds eye seems to drift to something behind your figure.

“It appears my brother is done with that Dornish red…” He trails with a smirk. Your head turns with a smile, expecting to find Aegon with a kind smile. Only instead, Aegons face is practically thundering. His eyebrows are furrowed with a matching glare, but it’s not aimed at you. It’s aimed at Aemond.

The music that once loudly played throughout the hall, aswell as the overwhelming murmur of politics goes silent as Aegons eyes meet yours. He begins to make to make his way over to you both from the other side of the hall, and you can practically hear the thundering footsteps echo in your mind.

His eyes which whilst he walked were on you, now look to his brother with a thunderous look in them.

“Hello Aemond. You seem to be enjoying my wife’s attention an awful lot.”

“Yes brother. Me and her were just discussing how Helaena has been recently. You do remember her yes? My own wife?” Aemonds tone is one of a condescending nature. It almost makes you laugh. Yet only a hint of a smile appears. Both you and Aemond are well aware of Aegons possessive side. Sometimes the two of you would joke on how Aegon would sometimes wish to lock you in a tower and only he would have the key. Not that he’d ever dare do that of course.

Aegon eyes flicker to your lips as you quirk them, and with the rage you can slowly see festering in his eyes you know Aegon will most likely not forget it any time soon.

“It appears I have grown too much into my cups,” Aegon begins to say. His hand, which once clutched heavily on his goblet, now interlaces your fingers together tightly. “My wife I believe needs to fulfil her duties and escort me to our chambers.”

The look Aegon gives you, as well as the current grip that he holds, leaves no room for debate. He practically drags you by your arm from Aemond, with the latter laughing slightly whilst his brother does this.

When you arrive at your marriage chambers, one of the Cargyll twins is guarding the entrance, and turns to the both of you when he hears the thundering footsteps belonging to your husband.

“No one is to disturb us tonight Cargyll. No one to enter me and my wife’s chambers under any circumstance.” It’s not a suggestion, nor an ask. It’s a command with no room for disagreement. The guard nods his head with a murmured agreement, and steps aside to let you two in.

When you do both enter though, Aegon practically throws you in the direction of your shared bed. The thunderous look, whilst softened in your presence, still holds the same look of anger. “Get on the bed wife” He demands. While his eyes are soft, the tone he uses and the way his pants seem to tighten are not soft in anyway.

You follow his instructions obediently, sitting on the bed looking at him. He makes his way towards you, now towering over you while his fingers pinch your chin and lift your head to look him in the eyes.

“You weren’t acting very much like my wife at the ball today. You were acting like his wife…” By the way he hisses the word you know he’s talking about Aemond. Aegons always felt inferior to Aemond, and the sight of him making his wife laugh and be happy must’ve pushed him over the edge.

“I think I should punish you” he muses. His grip almost seems to tighten when he’s in thought. Though the mixture of the faint pain the grip gives and the atmosphere of the room makes a small whimper echo in the chamber.

Aegon focuses his gaze back to you at the sound. His mouth curving to a dark smile. “Flip you dress, hand me your smallclothes and bend over the fucking bed.” Again, there is no sympathy. Only a fake kindness and a dark intention.

When you take of your smallclothes, they’re already damp with how wet you are. Now they’re off, you can only run your thighs together to stop the slick from pooling on the part of the bed you lay on.

It’s only worse when you turn around to watch Aegon, and find him slightly sniffing your smallclothes before placing them in a pants pocket. “I think ten is a good number. Ten spanks for laughing and flirting with my brother?”

“I wasn’t flirting with him!” You snarl. A sudden burst of confidence hit you. It goes away though as quickly as it came though, as a sudden harsh slap is directed to your ass cheek.

“That one was for talking back to your husband. These ones I want you to count. If you can’t, we’ll start again.”

The first slap comes down hard and fast. You barely manage to utter the first number before his hand comes down on you again. He does this a few more times, giving various pauses both for you to moan a number and for him to get the element of surprise.

“What number are we on now little whore?” Your head feels like it’s working. So much so you’re barely able to utter the number. “Say it louder for me princess. Be a good wife for me…”

“It’s seven husband…” You whimper.

He praises you before making quick work of getting the slaps over and done with. Each time you whimper the remaining words louder with a whine. “Well don’t I have such a little whore for a wife…” His hand caresses the deep red skin that’s taken the slight shape of his hand, and laughs when you slightly edge away from him. “Oh no dear wife you stay right there. Besides…” The same hand travels from your ass to your soaking cunt. There’s no barrier between you two, so when his fingers swipe at your soaking cunt you cannot help but moan in denied pleasure. “It appears you fucking loved it either way…”

When you turn around, you practically feel yourself salivating at the sight of your husband slurping at the wetness he picked up with his fingertips. It only gets worse when you turn back around, and hear the sound of Aegon undoing his belt and the rustling of his clothes. You can’t help yourself from turning around again, and feel a whole new patch of wetness forming at the sight of his nude form. The stretch marks from his recent weight increase aswell as the marks and scars he received from battle were nothing but glorious to admire.

“I thought I told you to turn around?” He teasingly asks, slighting pinching the red skin he’d slapped raw earlier. You whimper slightly, but it’s quickly replaced with a sharp moan when you feel Aegon slide into you harshly, with no regards for your comfort.

He lifts your ass, so now he’s positioned you so it’s in the air while your upper half is slumped on to it bed. When he begins to thrust quicker and harsher, you can already feel your knees buckle under the weight and fierceness. Yet you can’t, as his hands grip your thighs tightly.

You don’t even realise your practically screaming his name at this point. It comes out in small bursts whenever his cock seems to magically brush against that spot inside you yourself can never reach.

That coil that’s been tightening ever since Aegon first spanked you is almost at its limit. Your almost there, about to feel utter euphoria… before the complete full feeling of Aegons cock is taken away and the coil inside you is quickly loosened.

Your head feels a strange sort of funny, and is unable to process what has exactly happened. Yet when you turn around to look accusingly at Aegon, his dark eyes are already tuned to looking at your unkempt and body.

“You will take what I give you wife.” Is all he says before he is back at it again, heavily thrusting inside you with no mercy. His hand reaches out and takes ahold of your bare throat, squeezing slightly so whilst you can still breath, there’s still some breathlessness.

“Do you think my worthless brother could make you feel as good as this?”he hisses. You can already feel your peak coming once more with the lack of breath Aegon provides you with. However, once again when you feel yourself about to reach a wondrous high, Aegon all of a sudden pulls himself out and smiles.

“Please husband! Don’t be so cruel!” You whine. Your cunt now feels sore, yet it still aches for more. When Aegon lightly hits you right on your pearl, you can feel yourself subconsciously clench on nothing and moan lightly in the sheets.

“As I said before wife… you take what I give you. Though maybe I have been cruel…” His tone is misleading. You have been married to Aegon long enough to know what that sounds like. Yet your mind cannot seem to pick up on that, only thinking of a possible peak you may or may not receive.

While you head is slowly surrounded by a faint cloudiness, you can feel Aegon slowly insert himself into you and pick up to a rigorous pace. You can’t even hear you see moaning and whining anymore from the buzz that only seems to grow more prominent.

What brings you back though, is the slight intrusion you feel on you puckered hole. You can’t even turn your head to ask Aegon what he is doing due to his hand still holding a firm grip on your neck. You can only find it within yourself to mumble some illegible words as your peak soon comes for the third time that evening. You do fear Aegon will deny you once more, but it seems your peaks arrival only seems to entice Aegon to be faster, to be harder in his movements. His weight is already practically holding you down, making it so only your wrists and head can really move.

It feels worth it, when the feeling of utter euphoria hits you. You clench harshly on Aegons cock, faintly feeling the wet patch that’s formed on the bed. Only it’s not over, Aegon is still pounding inside of you holding onto you firmly.

“A-Aegon w-what…” You mumble within a moan as the coil which only just unraveled is already tightening once more.

“You claimed I was being cruel?” His voice held innocence, yet even with your head clouded with an impending peak, you could tell his bullshit a mile away. Though the more he speaks the more the once innocent tone darkens to a more possessive one. “Now… I’m going to give you my cum. You’ll take it like the good and obedient wife of mine I know you can be, and who knows… maybe if I fuck a child into your tight cunt, they’ll know exactly whose wife you are…”

With the combined sound of his voice, the nudges Aegons cock is providing to your special spot, and Aegons single finger teasing and dipping slightly into your puckered hole, you’re not surprised at how quickly you are able to finish once more. You could feel your own juices flow out of you and drip down your legs. Your strength is long gone, so now the only thing that holds you up is Aegons thick arms.

Within the spasming of your cunt, you can hear Aegons loud groans echo in the room, indicating he’s close to his own release. His mumbles soon turn to rambles, which soon turn to near shouts. “You’ll take my cum, without spilling a drop, because you’re a good wife. I’ll breed you so all of this realm knows your mine by the seed that grows deep in your belly… yeah they’ll all see…” All near the same as his eyebrows furrow in a strangely beautiful way.

You moan slightly as you feel your inner walls get painted with Aegon cum. Though you quickly whimper in slight pain as the previous actions catch up to you.

Aegon grabs one of the many pillows that uselessly lie in your chambers and uses it to prop your lower half upwards slightly. When you turn to him with a lazy raised brow, he can only respond with, “Maester said it increased chance of you being pregnant. No idea how.” While he makes sure to find a comfortable position for you to sleep in, insisting on your lower half being up still to your annoyance. “It’s for the baby!” He just kept insisting.

It’s almost annoying when Aegon finds you a good position, and the exhaustion from the previous activities hits you quicker than you’d expect. It’s a wonderful moment, listening to the sound of your husbands heartbeat, and relishing in that Targaryen heat they all seem to possess.

You even find yourself lazily tracing a hand on your stomach, imaging it swelling in a few months, and making Aegon a father. That night while you slept, you had dreams of a little girl playing and giggling with Aegon, while she called him her kepa. You’d already decided on a name for her. Her name was to be Aelora. Aelora Targaryen, first of her name.

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii #hotd aegon #aegon ii fanfic #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x fem!reader #aegon targaryen one shot #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii fic #aegon the second #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon x you #chubby aegon #aegon ii targaryen

[cillivnz]

TRICKSTER

pairing. anakin skywalker x f!reader

trope. best friends decide to fuck? idk.

synopsis. when you decide to flex your tricks with a keg-stand on anakin, he decided to drink with you, but not the liquor— your pussy.

warnings. NSFW. 18+. modern au. porn without plot, alcohol consumption, brief dubcon (turns consensual), cunnilingus, brief ass-eating (return of analkin), outdoors, cursing, mention of alcohol poisoning, pet-names, slight degradation, vaginal fingering, breast-play, cum-eating.

a/n. i need both things incorporated here; a keg stand and anakin eating me out. i’ve used a picture of sam monroe here, i just felt like it fit the au better, let me know if you guys maybe would wanna read something for him? twirls hair, bats eyelashes at you.

“ANI, WATCH THIS,” you ask him, for the third time in a row to watch you cannonball into the lavish pool. anakin feigns faux pride in you, clapping sarcastically when you swim up to the surface to see his reaction.

the clear poison coursing through your veins, the bittersweet smirnoff that you’ve been chugging neat, had began working its magic into your senses.

you were home alone, your parents’ place left to you all by yourself as they left for business outside of coruscant. with the sun shooting heatwaves directly at your city, you decided what better way to make peace with your solitude than to invite your childhood best friend over to drink the day away?

ANAKIN SKYWALKER WAS MORE than happy to oblige to your “pretty please’s,” pulling up to the house in nothing but black trunk shorts, while you were in a black, skimpy bikini.

he’d been ogling at you the whole time, too.

you pretended not to notice the bite of his lip when your cleavage would come into sight, and shrug away the feeling of his eyes devouring your ass whenever you had your back towards him.

with his help, you had set up a keg-stand, eager to impress with some tricks up your sleeve.

“hey, anakin,” you called out, a mischievous half-smile tugging at your lips. “hm?” he looked up to you. the liquor trickling down his stubbled chin, his brows furrowed at the feel of his tastebuds dying at the hands of the alcohol. using the back of his large hands, he wiped off his face.

you squirmed at the sight.

he was your best friend, but you had eyes.

anakin’s always been a gorgeous boy, the perfect man to have. easy on the eyes, funny, attentive, possessive, and just so, so good to you.

and only you, it seems.

nobody else gets this princess treatment, none but you.

you smiled triumphantly, you were fawning over a man that wasn’t even yours, but you’d be damned if you cared to stop.

“check this out!” you raced over to the stand, getting in position to start chugging.

WAS THIS A BAD IDEA? probably.

would you care to stop? fuck no.

anakin looked over at you, amused. he raised a brow at your current state; ass in the air, tits flopping in the barely covering bikini top, your form slightly wavering, causing him to walk over to you.

“very impressive, trickster.” he tried not to chuckle. “need help?” he asked, snaking his hands around your waist to steady you. your heart skipped several beats at the gesture, now realising how awkward this position is.

his face so close— too close to your ass— that you felt his hot breath on your wet skin.

his hands began to roam, kneading the flesh— whatever flesh he could touch, massaging your waist and hips, before making his way to your chest. you nearly choked on the beer shooting up your mouth when he untied the strings of your bikini, letting the top fall to the ground.

“hey, sweetheart,” he mocked your earlier tone,

“SWEETHEART, WATCH THIS!” he grinned devilishly before shifting your thong to the side and shoving his face between your folds.

your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, trying so hard not to choke on the relentless liqueur shooting through the pipe.

anakin was cruel, what if the liquid went down the wrong hole and you choked to death?

speaking of the wrong hole, his tongue now licked the tight rim of your ass, smirking to see you writhe in discomfort.

“anakin, what the f—” you gasped for air as the pipe left your mouth.

“shh,” anakin spoke against your drooling slit, sending shivers down your spine (or up, since you are hanging upside down?) “don’t waste, and show me all the tricks you’ve been talking my ear off to show.” his arm wrapped around your slim waist to steady you, while the free hand traveled down to your chest to pinch and pull at your nipples.

you moaned, gushing around his face. his little stubble pricked at your skin, while his tongue sent sharp jolts of pleasure through you when he taunted your clit with the tip; the sensation, delicious, much like the taste of you for anakin.

“such a sweet cunt, i can’t believe it took just one bottle of vodka to get you laid out for me.” he slurred against you, sucking harshly on your clit, easing a finger into your walls.

you moaned pornographically, gagging on the pipe.

for your sake, and his, he better finish what he started before you die of alcohol poisoning.

but with the fervency with which he was assaulting your poor pussy, you ought to rest assured.

“cum on my tongue, slut. i wanna taste you in my mouth, not the booze.” he grabbed you by the hips and began grinding your entire body on his face; drenched in your juices, but not once stopping, he sucked the soul out of your swollen clit, while his fingers curled against your g-spot.

you clenched your thighs around his head, not that anakin minded, struggling to drink beer while anakin was doing just fine drinking your juices.

with one final lick on your clit, and one final thrust of two of his fingers, he had you coming undone in his mouth, like he wanted.

he helped you down, but wouldn’t leave you alone. he groped your breasts roughly, shoving his tongue into your mouth. you weren’t even given a jiffy to yourself to breathe.

when he broke the kiss, he had that mischievous look on his face; the one that gets you into the best kind of trouble.

“ani—” you said his name in a cautionary tone, but it was too late; he swept you off your feet and headed indoors.

“anakin, let go of me!” you chuckled, flopping around like a fish out of water on his shoulder.

“not a chance,” he tsk’ed at your request, like it was the stupidest idea ever.

“unless you want me to fuck you outdoors?” he looked over at you, a hopeful glee in his eyes.

your tricks have come around to bite you in the ass, little trickster. now, brace yourself for a hell of a pounding.

main masterlist. more of anakin.

#analkin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x y/n #anakin x reader #sw anakin #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #modern au #drabble #smut #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #sin sixx

[daddynattt]

Can u write a short little blurb of something like dirty and nasty of g!p natasha x reader you write it so hot just something like super filthy

idk why this idea came to me but 👀 hope you enjoy

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: nat has a penis, cock warming, public sex, possessive nat, dirty talk, degrading, daddy and breeding kink, mentions of maria hill

You’re sitting on Natasha’s lap, her thick cock deep inside you as you cock warm her, you’re dripping onto her lap as you’re unbelievably wet from being so horny and needy for her. The two of you haven’t had sex in three days and you’re going crazy without it. You whimper as you move against her, yelping when you feel a slap against your puffy pussy as her hands are sitting on your thighs underneath your skirt.

“Shut your little whore mouth and don’t make any sound or else Daddy is gonna take you off” you purse your lips to keep yourself quiet, not wanting to get off her lap and stop. 

You see the rest of the Avengers piling into the meeting room, smiling at everyone that walks in one by one and takes their seat. The table in the middle of the room is huge and it covers what you and Natasha are doing, the two of you at the far end away from the rest, but nobody ever suspects a thing because it’s common for the two of you to be in this position where you’re always seated in her lap. You look towards Maria and give her a wave and a smile as she enters. The two of you used to hook up but it didn’t work out and when you met Natasha, you were instantly hooked. You feel Natasha squeeze your waist roughly, making you jump at the sudden contact, a small moan leaving your mouth at the sudden movement of her inside you and her possessiveness over you.

“You alright over there Y/n?” you give Steve a smile and nod.

“Great, so let’s get this meeting started. Tony? Pull up the video. Okay everyone, there’s been another threat going around-“ you zone out his voice as the immense pleasure you are feeling at the moment from Natasha inside you takes over your whole body, and you try your best to keep your eyes open and focused on the screen to at least pretend you’re paying attention, no thoughts in your head other then cumming all over her cock.

“Y/n?” you shake your head and blink as you look around the room to everyone staring at you, and you look to the screen to see it turned off. How long were you zoned out for?

“I think Y/n and I will be perfect together for this mission. We work perfectly together, isn’t that right sweetheart?” a wink is sent your way, and before you have the chance to say anything, you’re being pushed off Natasha’s lap, her hold on you possessive as she pushes your skirt up and bends you over the table, bottoming out inside you and fucking you deep and hard into the table in front of the whole team making your eyes widen. You are so worked up that you can’t help the loud moan that comes out, your eyes instantly rolling back as she pounds you from behind in front of everyone to see. 

“You see this Maria? You see how she instantly gets all cock dumb for me and me only? You’ll never get to fuck her again. I own this pussy” her words cause you to become more wet then you already are, you’re nothing but a whimpering, moaning mess, and the only thing on your mind is that you want to cum. You’re completely fucked out that you don’t notice the shock on people’s faces, and everyone running out of the room except Maria as she’s glued to her seat as she watches the scene in front of a her. 

“Daddy please! I need to cum can I cum? Please please please” she roughly grabs your hair into

a fist, pulling your head up and making you look at Maria as she pounds you hard from behind, your skin slapping against each other and she stares at your fucked out face, her shock evident but she can’t seem to look away or get out of the room. 

“You like Maria watching you get fucked? Hmm baby? Yeah I bet you do because you’re nothing but a dirty little slut all for me. Who do you belong to? Who owns this pussy? Tell her!” you yelp as she delivers a hard slap to your butt, the stinging pain making you that much closer to your release.

“You! I belong to you Daddy, you own me. Please!”

“That’s right baby, such a good girl for me, fuck i’m gonna cum inside your greedy little pussy, you hear that Maria? Gonna cum so much inside her till she’s pregnant. Cum for me now baby” that was all you needed to hear as you cum hard around her cock, your breathing heavy and your legs shaking as they feel like jello, and you let out a needy whimper as you feel her shoot her load inside of you filling you up.

“Oh Maria, I think it’s safe to say her and I work much more perfectly together, wouldn’t you agree?” she pulls out, her cum starts dripping out of your gaping hole, and you feel her pushing it back in with her finger. She grabs you by the hair and pulls you down onto your knees, looking down at you and painting your lips with your cum as she parts them open. 

“Now open your mouth and suck my cock and show Maria just how much of a little dirty cock whore you are for me only”

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x reader

[ariundercovers]

When Paths Cross (Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~7k words

Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic descriptions of sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

a/n: This idea came to me partially in a semi-lucid dream but then I ran with it and it rotted my brain until I could get it fully out onto a page. I really love this concept, so I'll be doing at least a sequel, which is already in progress! Sorry for letting the smut get away from me. Javi possessed me, you can blame him for this. I hope you enjoy it!

Read the next part (II) HERE

Laredo was just about what you expected it might be. 

Simultaneously urban and rural, with the Rio Grande rushing right through it, it was a huge shift, moving from the northeast down to the US-Mexico border. But you liked the museum that hired you and it was a step up, or two really, in your career. You had always wanted the freedom of being the head curator of an institution.

So it goes without saying that when you took the job, you weren’t in it to be making friends. Yet, here you are, on the outskirts of town once again, hand raised as you reach for the knocker of the old farmhouse and tapping it against the door twice.

Chucho opens the door in his wide-brimmed hat with a big smile on his face.

“Come in, come in! We’re almost ready.” He leads you into the house, one hand gently on your lower back as he pushes you toward the kitchen. There's a man standing there, hip propped against the counter with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s wearing the most frustratingly well-fitted flannel shirt you think you’ve ever seen and a pristinely trimmed mustache on his face. He lifts his glass almost imperceptively toward you and nods as Chucho steps in, gesturing toward him. 

“This is my son, Javier.”

The man smiles at you, eyes trailing up and down your body once or twice before he gives a curt nod. “Just Javi is good, too.” 

You nod back and offer your name as well, feeling a bit of heat radiating in your cheeks from his intense stare. You turn away from him to Chucho and ask him, “Anything I can do to help? I brought pastelillos de guayaba - where I’m from you don’t dare show up at someone’s house empty-handed. I hope that’s okay?” He takes the tin from you with a grin and walks it over to the counter, setting it down.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful. Thank you. Why don’t you have a seat?” He pulls out one of the dining room chairs and you do as he asks, eyes flitting back and forth between him and Javi as you go. 

They bring the food out to the table relatively quickly as you all sit down for a shared meal. The conversation is easy like you’ve fit in with them forever and not just for the last few hours. There are no awkward lulls like you’re used to, just warmth and camaraderie and an easygoing sense that you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced before. It’s captivating, and you want more of it.

After dessert, Javi brings out the whiskey, which Chucho promptly declines, but the two of you continue to drink as you all chat. Sometime later, when Chucho stands up and announces he’s turning in for the evening, you look at your watch and see that it’s past midnight. You really had wanted to be home by now. And now you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome, too.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t realize how late it was, I’m so sorry, Chucho-”

He shakes his head ‘no’ in response and offers you a smile as he tucks in his chair. “No, no. I’m an old man. You young people please feel free to continue. I’ve only met my limit on waking hours today. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Chucho. Thank you for having me.” You stand up and walk over, wrapping him up in a big hug before he heads off and you turn, heading back for your seat once again. You go to reach for your jacket on the back of the chair, but Javi stands and leans across the table to stop you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Wait. You don’t have to go just yet, you’ve been drinking.” You sigh, knowing he’s right, but you only nursed two whiskeys all night long and are feeling tired beyond anything else.

“I’m okay, I don’t want to overstay. It’s been such a lovely evening. But I should get going home.” You stop reaching for the jacket, but you look at him sternly. He narrows his eyes for a moment.

“It’s a hike back into the city though, isn’t it?”

“A bit. Maybe half an hour or so.”

He pauses and takes a breath before he responds. “Let me drive you at least.”

You shake your head and sigh, hating to be troubling them so much. “I can’t ask that, then someone would have to come get me in the morning for my car, too? I don’t want to burden you all. It’s alright, I’ll manage.”

He tugs the jacket out of your hands and places it back on the table, still holding onto your wrist. “Come on, muñeca, give me something. If you won’t let me drive you then why don’t you just stay? You can head out first thing in the morning if you need. The guest bedroom is all made up already, and then you’re not driving back this late. Take it easy.” 

You sigh. His logic is sound, but you feel terrible about imposing do heavily on them after they cooked such a lovely meal for you and invited you over in the first place. The internal conflict is apparent on your face. Javi raises his glass then with a smirk. “I’ll offer you another drink? Or two. Three? However many you want, chiquita.”

You laugh lightly at the nickname and can’t help but smile back, slowly letting your guard down as you set your hands back down on the chair. “Alright. I’ll stay. But you owe me at least one more drink.” He smiles widely at you and moves over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a clearly expensive bottle of tequila and showing it to you.

“What do you think? Or we can go back to the whiskey, instead.” Your little laugh turns into a full on giggle as he pulls out the tequila and you looks up at him from where you’ve seated yourself back down with a smile.

“Oh you can always get me to drink tequila.” He brings it back over to the table along with two ceramic shot cups, pouring you each a small cup before he takes a seat and pops the lid back onto the bottle. He raises his cup to you and you match his motions with your own.

“To… fresh starts.” He smiles as he says it, and you can tell his sincerity from his tone alone let alone the easy expression on his face.

“Fresh starts,” you repeat, clinking your glasses together before you each down the shot in an easy swallow. You hum, contemplating the taste, and nod along with it. “Oh that is good tequila. Dangerous.”  Javi laughs at your response but agrees with you, pouring a second small cup for each of them.

“We know a family in New Laredo with a tequila business close to Cancún. We always get it from them.” You nod and lift your glass, sipping at the liquid this time to get more of the taste. You contemplate it for a long while before Javi speaks up again, eyes searing into your own. “Thank you, also. For indulging him. He’s been talking about this all week, I’m just glad he has something to obsess over more than just me coming home.”

You tilt your head at him as he talks, noting the sincerity behind his eyes as he explains. It warms your heart that Chucho feels so strongly about your presence already. He’s been such a guiding light for you since the moment you arrived in town. “Its not an indulgence at all, Javi,” you respond. “I love Chucho. He’s been like a father to me ever since I got here, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Maybe turned around and run back north already.” 

Javi chuckles at your description and reaches across the table to squeeze your wrist again. Your skin burns where his touches your own. “Well, thank you, anyway. It’s good to see him excited about something that isn’t me.”

“I should be thanking you, really,” you counter. “Thank you for letting me borrow him.”

He snorts then, laughing boisterously. “Muñeca, you can borrow him any time you want. No reservation required.” He laughs again and it makes you think back to the first time you ended up on this property - by accident. 

It was only your second day in town and you were just driving around, trying to get your bearings. Somehow, you missed the fact that after a certain point the streets and roads are no longer numbered or labeled, and you found yourself crisscrossing through farms and ranches without any idea which way was up and which way was down. You parked your car on the side of the road and cried, hard, with no way to figure out where to go from there. The gas tank only had a few more miles left on it and you felt screwed. You just wanted to go home. 

This place wasn’t meant for you.

But then, Chucho, like a guardian angel, came walking out from the ranch, right over to your car. Afraid that he’d yell at you to get off of his property, you rolled down your window and immediately started apologizing profusely, trying to explain your newness and inability to navigate the outskirts. You were afraid, worried that he’d go off on you or worse, but instead, he put a hand on your door and leaned into the open window with a gentle smile.

“Señorita. You look lost. Why don’t you slow it down, try that again, and I’ll figure out how to help you out of here?” The rest is history. He drove you to a gas station, picked up some gas for your car, filled it for you, and then gave you directions back into the city from the ranch. He didn’t let you try to follow them yourself though - he drove ahead of you, leading you the entire way. You don’t think you’ve ever been so grateful to another person in your life.

He invited you back to the ranch the next week, and since then, it’s been a bit of a standing date. You come over, ask him a million questions about the town and the area, and inevitably you help him with some kind of technology issue or bring him a home-cooked meal of some kind, one of the few pastimes you were more than glad to bring back with you to Laredo.

So, when Javi suggests that you were indulging Chucho, it sets a fire of laughter in your belly. If anything, you think he might be indulging you.

“I meant it, Javi. Thank you,” you counter. “You have an amazing dad. I wish I could steal him as my own, sometimes.” Blinking back at you, an interesting expression crosses his face for a brief moment. It’s so brief that you almost miss it, before he turns back into his smirking, good-looking self.

“Well, don’t think me coming home means you mean any less to him. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but he’s happy to have you around. I think he gets lonely out here.” 

“I would, too, if I were out here by myself all the time. But… he’ll be less lonely now, right? With you around again? Or are you not planning on staying?” You briefly wonder if this line of questioning is too intrusive, but you’re genuinely curious about it, so you let it slip anyway.

“Not sure, just yet. Sticking around for a while. Gotta figure out where things lead me next. Been thinking about taking over the ranch for him eventually, but I’ve never been the best rancher. Not like he is. Lots to learn.” You nod in agreement and sip at your tequila again.

“Makes sense. I’m sure tons goes into running a ranch like this. It’s a huge property, too. Chucho gave me both the walking tour and the horseback tour.”  Javi’s brows raise in surprise and he makes a face of approval.

“See, that’s how I know you’re special. Anybody can get a walking tour, but the horseback tour? That’s only for the best of the best.” You laugh a little to yourself again, loosened slightly by the tequila and made shockingly comfortable in Javi’s presence by his gentle banter.

“That so?” 

You realize, then, that his hand still hasn’t left your wrist.

You swallow thickly and he forces a response, eyes burning into you like sunshine through a magnifying glass. “Yeah. That’s so.”

There’s a long lull in the conversation as you look at each other, neither of you willing to break the eye contact that, in most situations, you’d feel horribly uncomfortable with. With Javi, however? It somehow feels… right. 

His thumb swipes across the bottom of your forearm, stroking your skin softly with that molten hot touch of his. It feels like it’s melting both your brain and your soul, breaking you down into a puddle for him that can barely remember its own name. His voice is smooth like whiskey when he breaks the comfortable silence. 

“You got someone waiting for you at home?”

You answer before you can think too hard about the question, which is probably a good thing. You’d likely clam up if you thought about the connotations too hard. “Home here or home home?”

He smirks and snickers for a moment, leaning in toward you across the table. 

“Either. Both.”

All you can do is shake your head, ‘no’, as he leans in further, one hand reaching up to your cheek as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good. I like that answer.”

Swallowing heavily, you feel the way your breath hitches in your throat, the way you naturally open your mouth a little for him, already overly willing to respond to his beck and call. Lifting your arm, you place your palm on the back of his, stroking the side of his wrist as he tugs your lip down for a moment before releasing it.

“Que linda muñequita…” Your hand trails down his arm, stopping to wrap around his elbow and lower bicep, squeezing softly. How can something so simple, so basic as eye contact and the palm of one’s hand, feel so damn erotic? You’re completely lost to it.

“Unos labios tan preciosos... besables, creo.” You blink back another sigh but can’t help the little whimper that falls from your mouth, closing your eyes in embarrassment as you take a long, slow, deep breath. His thumb slides away from your mouth, then, and you’re already regretting not having more control over yourself for a long moment until suddenly your train of thought is completely broken as there are a pair of warm, smooth lips on yours, moving slowly as his hand urges you closer to him.

You’re stunned by it, frozen in shock for a long while before your hand is squeezing his arm tightly and you’re kissing him back, meeting his every movement as the heat between you two quickens faster than you could have ever imagined. Your free hand floats up to the side of his neck, winding into the back of his hair and tugging slightly, like you might just float away if he pulls away from you now.

His lips are heavenly. Perfectly smooth, pouty, and plump, and the glorious scratch of his mustache on your upper lip while you kiss him sends you reeling. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about it all night, or anything.

His tongue darts out from between his lips, teasing along the seam of your own, and you open them for him happily, letting him lead as he starts to explore your mouth, tangling his tongue with your own. Another little moan slips out and you get the most gorgeously deep and rumbling groan from low in his chest as a reward.

“Muñeca… You’re killin’ me. That pretty mouth ‘a yours is making the most perfect little sounds for me already.” He pulls away from you and you gape at him, lips swollen and spit-shined and you have the delirious urge to bite that offensively gorgeous lower lip of his. He swipes his thumb across his own lip this time, a wild smirk on the side of his mouth as he stands, releasing you completely and stepping to the side so that he can push his chair in.

You’re nervous for a moment that you’ve been reading this wrong all along and have just managed to fuck it all up somehow, worried that you’ll have to walk out on Javi and Chucho, until Javi reaches his hand out to you, offering you help out of your chair. You take it, of course, staring up at him as you stand. He continues to look at you with that chilling smirk across his lips, quickly turning downright devilish.

“Pretty little thing you are.” He twirls you around in front of him, watching closely as he devours you with his burning gaze. You stop then when you’ve made a full 360, glad for the gentle reminder that, actually, you’re still not drunk yet. 

Thank fuck. You really want to remember this come morning.

There’s a question that’s threatening to rise to the surface, and you’re just loose enough that it starts to blurt out before you even havea  chance to stop it. “But what do we do about-” 

Javi cuts you off with a ‘shhh’ and a finger to your lips. “Don’t you worry that pretty head about a thing. We’ll figure it out in the morning. We’re two adults, no? Wouldn’t be the worst thing to get caught sneaking around.” You chuckle nervously and shrug.

“You don’t think Chucho would be mad?” Javi laughs then, a wide, genuine smile on his face as he does. 

“Oh no. I didn’t say that. He’ll be mad, but definitely not mad at you.” You sigh, put at ease by that statement, because Chucho was there first, and it was his home and his invitation and, in all honesty, It makes you a little sick to your stomach to think about doing something that would upset him and disrespect him so much. You blink back at Javi a few times and nod in agreement.

“Are you sure about that?” He places his hand at the side of your neck and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once more before he’s pulling back just enough to whisper.

“Promise. I wouldn’t risk messing with the two of you - he needs you, and it seems like you need him, too. Now come on, time for bed, I think. Are you joining me in mine?”

Your body lets out an involuntary ‘squeak’ at his words, and as you watch him turn and walk down the hall. He pauses in the entryway, turning to look at you with his head cocked to the ide.

“You don’t have to, darlin’. Guest room is just down the hall - last room on the right. Mine’s just across the way. Your choice, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to.” He winks and smiles at you, melting your heart down just a little bit further, and then he turns once more, disappearing into the room you assume must be his. Chucho went the opposite direction to get to bed - you figure he must be in the master suite in a different part of the house - but it’s difficult to know you’d have to pass by Javi’s on the way to the guest bedroom anyway. 

How can you possibly say no? To that glorious hunk of a man? 

The chemistry between you two is palpable. You felt it like electricity from the moment you walked into the farmhouse this evening. It’s like the entire air around you was charged with static, somehow simultaneously pulling you in toward him and keeping you at an arm’s length away.

Fuck it. You moved here for you. You can fuck who you want to, too.

Before you have a chance to chicken out and change your mind, you walk briskly down the hall and pause in his doorway, staring in at the now topless man, sprawled across his bed as he looks up at you. 

“You still want me?” You ask.

He sits up quickly with a reply, “That I do, muñequita. Come on baby, come inside.” He sits up and pushes himself off of the bed, taking two short strides before he’s on top of you once again, pushing you off to the side and up against the wall just next to the door. One arm plants firmly against the wall next to your head, his torso within breathing distance of your own, and the other arm reaches to close the door slowly, letting the latch slowly settle into place with a ‘click’. He’s staring at you again, eyes meeting yours directly all the while. It’s so jarring to feel so seen by someone you hardly know, and yet so comforting at once.

Leaning in slowly, he brings your lips back together as he releases the doorknob and wraps his large hand against your hip and lower back, tugging your hips into his. You let out a breathy sigh from your nose as hips tongue presses back into your mouth, licking into every nook and cranny he can manage. 

There’s more passion, more pent up frustration to this kiss now that you’re in the comfort and safety of his bedroom, no longer at the whim of any possible prying eyes. Reaching up to his chest, your hands find his shoulders, pulling you more tightly into him as you reach up into his embrace. You keep your mouth open for him as you squirm, already feeling the rush of slick that is traveling to your core.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, his eyes several shades darker as he looks at you. “Fuck, Javi…” 

Half of his face turns up in a lopsided grin. “That’s the plan, muñequita,” and then he’s trailing his lips down your throat, biting lightly at your pulse point before his fingers start to work their way under the hem of your shirt. “I’d really like to get this gone though, that alright with you?”

The way he checks in with you before he just goes ahead and does it sends a shiver of appreciation down your spine. You don’t think you’ve ever been treated that well by a partner before, never been asked or confirmed with before doing. You arch up into his touch and shake your head frantically up and down, not wanting him to waste another second than he has to. “Please, Javi.”

The smirk on his face turns wicked as his hands meet at your shirt hem and tug it overhead. One wraps around your hips and the other around your back, unclasping your bra with a skilled precision that rivals your own ability to undress yourself in a rush. The bra slips forward off your shoulders so you let it pool to the ground, and then, in what feels like the blink of an eye, he’s managed to lose both your pants and his, and pour you both into the extraordinarily well-cushioned bed.

He’s on top of you, caging you in with his legs and arms, and you can feel the excessively well-hung length of him through his boxers, leaving very little left to the imagination as his cock hangs hard and heavy against your hip. It’s subconscious when you roll your hips up into his, but you groan at the friction and at the way you're able to feel him for the first time without the restrictiveness of denim in the way.

Javi nuzzles his cheek against yours for a moment, taking the time to gain back some of the intimacy that was lost in the fight to undress as quickly as possible. “Gotta get you nice n’ warmed up for me, darlin’. Alright?” You can hear the southern drawl start to come out the more worked up he gets, and it only adds to your arousal. He sits back on his heels, straddling your thighs, and shifts to spread your legs out wide on either side of his hips. He presses your thighs open and stares down at your still-clothed pussy, pausing for a long moment to just look at the very boring black underwear you just happened to have on today. 

He moves his hands to trail up and down the sides of your torso. He traces your ribs, your abdomen, the outsides of your breasts, until he settles with his hands just barely cupping the fleshy mounds of your tits. He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the skin between them, and then up to your sternum, where he lingers, lavishing his tongue along your skin as he works across to one collarbone, and then the other. Your eyes close gently as you press your chest up into him, seeking out the contact hastily as his hand drops to the hemline of your panties, fingertips just teasing beneath it. 

“Oh fuck. Javi, I… can you- can you please touch me?” Your wanton need is so visible now, so palpable, that you can’t help but resort to begging. You need to feel him against you, inside of you. You’re dying for it. 

“Greedy little thing, are you? Hm… I suppose I can fulfill that request.” He smirks down at you, having abandoned your breasts for a moment while he moves his hands to your clothed core. Reaching for the band of them then, he pulls your legs together, up and off of his hips just enough to slide them off of you, and then tosses them to the side as he settles your legs right back down around his thighs. His fingers ghost along every curve he can find - your thighs, your mound, the outside of your folds, your lower belly. It’s a searing touch, one you’re grateful for as it short circuits your brain and makes you feel like a comfortable liquid, all for him. 

“Trying to take my time with you, muñeca, but you’re making it damn difficult.” Your breath stutters and you whimper a bit, reaching up for his neck to pull him down into a heavy kiss. 

You whisper back, “Then don’t take your time, Javi. Just fuck me.”

He chuckles a bit at that and acquiesces to the kiss, lips and tongues tangling with one another as your hands work their way into his hair. You tug - you can’t help it - and he moans at the feeling as you finally manage to suck that perfect bottom lip into your mouth, biting down gently. 

Javi groans in response, low and deep from his chest, and it’s like the reward you didn’t know you needed. Something snaps a bit in you as your ministrations speed up - kissing him faster, harder, and letting your hands wander down to the swell of his ass. You squeeze there, tucking your hands into the band of his boxer, and pull his hips closer to yours as you do so. 

“No patience, baby. I told you - need to get you warmed up for me.” His head dips low as he takes up a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently on the sensitive bud. You keen, pressing your chest up into him once again as his other hand leaves your mound and moves to pinch lightly at your other nipple, leaving neither without the perfect stimulation. 

He switches then, mouth moving to the other side, and you let your eyes close gently while he works you over. Javi stays there for a long while, moving back and forth between your breasts, until you’re absolutely squirming beneath him, begging for some touch in the place you need it most. 

“Please, Javi, I want your fingers. Need them.” He pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’ and quirks a brow at you as he leans in for another quick kiss. 

“Need them, huh? Well… I always tend to my partners’ needs, so I suppose I must.” He chuckles lightly and presses his lips to your forehead, then cheek, then throat, sitting back into his heels again as he spreads your thighs open wide once more. This time, when he’s staring down at your core, there’s no cloth in the way of him taking everything in. His gaze is once again searing - it feels like he might burn a new hole right through your body if he isn’t careful enough - but the look he offers you in return is nothing short of famished. He’s craving you just as much as you’re craving him, needs you like a man starved.

He moves his thumbs to your folds, pulling them apart so that he can stare inside even better. Letting a line of spit fall out of his mouth, it lands directly on your clit, and you realize that you’ve never felt so simultaneously dirty and hot at the same time. His thumbs massage the outsides of your folds for a few moments more before he’s collecting the spit with one of them and using it to rub small, gentle circles just beneath your clit. Then he’s dipping the tip of his thumb into your entrance and your back is arching for him, silently begging for more. 

“She’s so greedy. Pretty, too.” Somehow him talking about your cunt like it’s its own person has you reeling even further. It makes your head spin at the lewdness of it all. “She’s dyin’ for my fingers, I think. Gonna let her have ‘em.” He smiles up at you then as he presses his index finger into you, slowly sinking from one knuckle to the next until it’s buried deep and he’s crooking it upward in just the perfect way that somehow has you already seeing stars. 

You grind your hips down onto his sole finger, already needing more, but he knows your body well enough already and as soon as the thought can take any legitimate root in your brain, he’s pressing another in just next to the first. 

“Ohhh, Javi-” Your eyes close once again, riding out the waves of pleasure onto his fingers while he scissors them inside of you, alternating between stretching you out and crooking them up perfectly into your g-spot. You plant your heels onto the bed on either side of him, letting your knees open wide to the sides to give him whatever access he wants. 

You want to give him all of it. 

“That’s a good girl. Look how wrecked you are for me, already. Mierda. I can’t wait to give you my cock, muñeca.” His free hand smooths along the inside of your thighs for a long while until he’s gripping tightly to one of your knees and pulling his fingers out of you, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. “Just keep your ass up for me, just like this.”

You do as instructed, settling your weight back into your knees as you suddenly feel something hot and wet at your entrance. It’s his tongue, you realize, swirling around and gathering up what feels like a copious amount of slick that he’s pulled out of you already. He laps at you sloppily, licking broad stripes from above your clit to your opening each time. He presses a kiss to it then, humming with pleasure, and then his tongue is replaced by three fingers this time, moving slowly and carefully into your core. 

“Had to fuckin taste you. Such a perfect little pussy, couldn’t go another second without it.” You groan deeply into the mattress, face pressed to the side as he continues to work his fingers down to the knuckle. He curls them too, using the added finger to press into that spongy spot inside of you while scissoring the others and it has you seeing stars already, perfectly working you up toward a building orgasm that you had no idea was lingering so close in the horizon. 

“Oh, oh shit… Javi. I’m not-I’m- fuck I’m gonna cum!” You bury your face into the mattress as you moan, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible, and you roll your hips roughly. He chuckles and leans down, pressing kisses and little nips to the globe of your ass while he works his fingers into you so perfectly. 

“Good, muñequita. Be a good little doll and cum for me.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and so you do just that. It’s an instantaneous one, not the kind that feels like a slow roll to the finish line, but one that explodes out of seemingly nowhere, making your fingers and toes curl as he works you through it. You cry out, burying your face in the sheets in hopes of muffling the sound, and grind your hips back onto him, driving his fingers in even deeper. He takes you across the finish line and further still, slowing his ministrations, but never completely stopping until you’re a whining, needy mess beneath him.

He stands, walking over to the nightstand to fish out a condom and roll it carefully into his length. “I think you’re ready to take me now, muñeca.” He drags you sideways across the bed to meet him where he is now, and in barely a moment you can feel himself notching himself between your folds, drawing the tip of his angry cock up and down through the copious wetness there that will ease his path inside of you.

“Please, Javi, please.” You press your ass backward into him, hoping to punctuate your point with your own body, and you can hear him groan as you do so, one hand grips your hip tightly as the other aims his cock, the head just breaching past your opening. You curse under your breath - he’s a big boy - and he shifts to grip your opposite hip with his other hand, using them as leverage to pull you back slowly onto his cock, inch by inch until your ass is flush with his hip bones. 

He has you impaled on him now, just waiting right there, buried deep inside you for a long while as he heaves out a sigh and rolls his hips experimentally into you. You keen, lolling your head forward he hits places inside of you that have rarely been touched.

But then, he starts moving, and it’s like getting transported to a different dimension. Every thrust erupts a flurry of sparks in your vision, sends a shiver or a crackle of static all the way up your spine. And the sounds he makes - the fucking sounds, Javier - send you reeling. He’s driving into you with a reckless abandon, pulling whines and moans out of you that you do your best to fight down, but you can’t manage completely.

He notices - of course he does - and reaches forward, scooping up your upper body so your’e upright on your knees with his arm tightly around your waist, huge hand holding just beneath your breast. His other hand wraps around your mouth, tugging your head back to his chest as he continues to pump himself up into you. 

Well, fuck. You’re fucking close again. 

How? How does he have this kind of instant effect on you like this? You’re amazed, but you don’t have the brainpower to sit and think about it right now, anyway. Your mind and body are both too full of Javi and Javi only to be able to think about anything else.

“Shhh, muñequita. Quiet, now. You can do it.” His whispered words are hot in your ear, sandwiched between heady moans that set your belly alight with the arousal of it all. The arm around your waist dips lower, then, his large hand reaching for your clit as he starts to rub harsh circles into it. The brief moment of lucid clarity in your mind makes you think you can sense a shift to his thrusts, like a bit of a hitch or a stutter, and realize he’s probably getting close, too. You’d beg him to cum for you if you could, but his hand is so tight around your mouth he wouldn’t hear you even if you tried. 

Instead, you reach one hand behind you and around him, gripping tightly to his hip as if to ask him for harder, more, deeper, something, and the other reaches down to feel for the place where the two of you are most intimately connected, feel the shaft and slick and pull of where he’s spearing himself into you so deliciously.

He grunts a few times, head dropping to your shoulder for a brief moment as his hips stutter, and he admits, “You’re gonna make me come, baby. Fuck. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ perfect like that, I can’t last.” You whine in response, wish you could tell him you don’t need him to last, just need him to keep fucking you, just like this, for a few more moments, and few more seconds, and then-

Then, suddenly, you’re crashing again, tumbling over the edge and into a pool of all things Javier Peña that you’re not entirely sure you’ll ever be able to pull yourself back out of again. You don’t particularly know if you even want to right now, content to let yourself meld into his body as your orgasm takes you over, body shaking and writhing with the sensations of it all. You can feel your walls squeezing him tightly, massaging him as they ripple around his thick, heavy cock, and then he grunts a few more times and he’s spilling over, too.

You pant together, breaths heaving against one another as you both still and start to settle, catching your breath. Javi releases your mouth, moves his hand from your clit, and eases you back down to the bed as he reaches down to hold the condom in place, pulling out carefully and gently rolling you over onto your back. He smiles down at you for a moment with a blissed out expression that you think might rival your own, before he bends over, kissing you softly on the lips and then the forehead as he finally speaks up.

“One moment, baby. Be right back.” 

He leaves the room briefly, you figure likely to go to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back in he has a warm washcloth which he uses to wipe you down completely, and then himself, before tossing it at the hamper in the corner of the room. Climbing back into the bed, he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his chest to be the little spoon, and then reaches down to the foot of the bed where the sheets are all bunched up. He pulls them over the two of you and settles back down behind you, lips meeting your upper arm, then shoulder, collar bone, and neck as he peppers kisses all along your exposed, sweaty skin.

“I feel like I don’t even need to ask, muñequita, but I’m going to anyway. Was that as good for you as it was for me?” You chuckle, turning over slightly, just enough so you can look at him with a big, stupid grin on your face.

“Oh, yes, Javi. That was fantastic. Stupidly, perfectly, amazingly, phenomenal. Maybe it was even better for me,” you tease him, but think it might actually be true. He smiles back at you and leans in to press another soft, tender kiss on your lips. You kiss him back just as sweetly, one hand lifting to rest gently on the arm he has wrapped around the front of your body. “I don’t usually… I don’t usually do that. Well, this… with random people? It’s, um… definitely not the norm for me.” 

He chuffs in response and rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, muñeca. And, if it makes you feel any better, it’s really not so random. There’s a lot of backstory there.” You nod, admitting to yourself that he’s correct. You just never expected to be here when you met Chucho all those weeks ago. This was not the outcome you were hoping for - though you also have to admit, you can’t bring yourself to complain about it, either. You’re lost in your thoughts when he interrupts you with another kiss. “Get some sleep. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can talk about… this. Okay?”

You smile, pretty happy with that answer. There was a part of you that assumed Javi wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterward, but you’re glad that the connection the two of you seemed to have from the moment you laid eyes on each other wasn’t just a one-way street. He must have felt it too.

“Yeah, okay.” He smiles and nuzzles his forehead against your cheek, urging you back down onto the pillow.

“Good. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

The sound of his steady breathing and the beating of his heart ease you back into your exhaustion, which you had promptly forgotten about during the fucking. No complaints there, though.

“Mmhmm,” you mumble out, and before you know it, you’re asleep in his arms.

~~~

Read part II HERE

A/N: If you don't mind, please drop a like, comment, or reblog! They keep me going and I love your feedback! I'll be posting a next part very soon - it's almost finished!

#writing #fanfic #javi peña x reader #javier peña x reader #javi peña fanfiction #javi peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #no beta we die like men #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #javier peña x you

[earphonejackx]

hello, thank you for writing my request,i liked it a lot!! if its okay could i send another one with kafka x fem reader again where their relationship gets serious? honestly idk if she is the type to actually be able to be in a long term relationsnip so smth like how do you know she is genuine/we will be together forever convo could work too :0 i hope i was able to express myself and you get the idea🙏 have a nice day and take care!!

⭒ Kafka x f!reader

⭒ sorry for the small wait, but I’m here now :3 Ty for requesting <3

⭒ possessive behavior (on both ends)

⭒ When you two finally decided to take things seriously, so many things changed for the better! But it also had its pros and cons with that

⭒ for starters Kafka starts being more and more open with you! Even in public, she’s not afraid to show you off and brag ;) “Yeah she’s all mines, and she’s perfect.”

⭒ Kafka starts worrying about your well being more. At first you were so used to coming on missions with her to complete certain tasks but now she just wants you to sit out on some missions she thinks are too dangerous for you to handle. “Just stay back this once, promise I’ll let you come next time love.”

⭒ She gets more greedy possessive. She wants you around her more, she just wants you so bad, she wants her princess to be by her side all the time. Even you’ve started craving her even more than usual, giving her the silent treatment when you get slighty jealous when she talks to another girl or gives her attention to them. fuck she’ll even tease you about it when she finds out “oh? So that’s what this is all about hm? My little princess wants all my attention on her?”

⭒ Kafka LOVESS cafe dates with you, she loves the comfortable atmosphere that the cafe holds, that’s like her main spot to take you everyday before work

⭒ Kafka loves sleeping over at your house! It’s so much more comfortable there. She eventually just moved in with you after some months of convincing her tho !

⭒ Kafka enjoys it when you put your weight onto hers. She has no problem with helping you fix your problems or just helping you in general. And please also check on her too! She appreciates a lot “thank you for caring about me love, I’m perfectly fine :)”

⭒ You and Kafka actively put a lot of effort into your relationship, whether it’s small or big you both greatly appreciate each other <3

#earphonejackx #x reader #x y/n #headcanon #tw possessive behavior #hsr x female reader #kafka x y/n #Kafka x fem reader #kafka honkai star rail #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #genshin #wlw x reader #hsr fluff #fluff

[sugarlywhispers]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (fem) x Midoriya Izuku. 

A/N: hello there! just a few notes; dont feel afraid of the yandere tag/warning, it's not going to be that bad, i simply put it just to be safe because of the villains😉 i dont have this completely written, i'll go with the flow like i always do✌🏼, so if someone has feedback or ideas, you're more than welcome to talk to me!🤍 also, idk how long this gonna be, but it'll have several chapters. so get your snacks, and enjoy the ride~😉

WARNINGS: TRIO RELATIONSHIP, adult sexual content, angst and fluff, penetrative sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (USE GLOBOS, GUYS, preferably, pink ones lol😉), yandere themes –toxic/possessive behavior, mention of blood and violence, swearing lots of it thanks to bakugou lol

Summary: After several disasters that happened around the country, the government had no other choice but to enact a new law that would mostly shock every single person, including heroes. 

"Please, please…Order in the room! I know," he says to someone that it's asking something but it's mostly impossible to actually understand for viewers like you who are not–were not present at the conference. "But, please, believe me when I say we have exhausted every possibility there is for this. This law was our very last resource." 

By the tired tone in this man's voice and expression, you believe him. And you hate that you do, because that means you have no other choice. No one does.

Chapter One: The Law.

It doesn't matter how many times you rewind the whole conference from the start on your TV, the words are the same. The words mean the same.

"Thank you everyone for being here today," the same old man you have already watched–this was the third time–says, also greeting other people around he could recognize in the big crowd of journalists, governors, some famous people like idols, show directors, heroes, yada yada. The old man takes a deep breath, barely able to hide it in front of all the mics put there for him, "Due to recent misfortunes happening in our country, we can no longer postpone what we once thought could happen thanks to the society we live in today. The population has gone down in numbers, mortality rates spiking down lower than what we could ever hoped for. This law, that I'm about to present now to you, is the only way several professionals and analysts, in addition to Quirks used for this matter, could find to prevent the population from reaching the bottom–which can be translated as, from entirely disappearing."

No sugarcoat. That is something you do appreciate from this mess. You have always preferred the blunt, harsh reality of things than some kind words that were mostly used to not tell the truth.

"As from today onwards, a new law is going to take effect in our society, if not the entirety of the world. For now, we are the first country to approve this law, and we encourage others to. This law stipulates that one male, whether they are civilian or professional hero on duty, must marry and procreate with a female at least two new lives for the sake of humankind." The room explodes in protests, questions being yelled at the governor representative, and even talking between each other. "Please, please…Order in the room! I know," he says to someone that it's asking something but it's mostly impossible to actually understand for viewers like you who are not–were not present at the conference. "But, please, believe me when I say we have exhausted every possibility there is for this. This law was our very last resource." 

By the tired tone in this man's voice and expression, you believe him. And you hate that you do, because that means you have no other choice. No one does.

The governor starts to speak again as the room settles a bit, "Each citizen will have to get through several medical tests that will help our specially prepared team to match them to perfection for this purpose. This stance will be called The Pairing. After this is carried through, each Pairing will have from two weeks to a month to finally sign a contract that validates the union between each part and compromises them for the purpose they had been Paired for." 

There's chaos again in the room, and it doesn't settle until a woman stands from her seat and asks, "You said our population is currently going through a critical disbalance, right?" The governor nods admitting and signaling with his hand for her to proceed with her question. "Whether that means there are more females or males, how do you and your team plan to resolve the odd number that will complicate the Pairing of couples?"

Oh, good question!, you think again, enjoying way too much how she referred to that 'team' the governor kept talking about with so much sarcasm.

"The law establishes an exception to the Pairing of two. If one female is compatible with more than one male, or vice versa, there will be a more exhausting analysis to determine if she will be Paired with both of them."

"If that's the case, then how many children must they procreate?"

"The law does not change, there has to be two children for each couple."

Everything is chaos again and you sigh as you turn your TV off, same time that your phone vibrates over the little coffee table in front of your couch, where you sit with your legs pulled towards your chest. You pick it, the name Tora shining on the screen.

You don't get to properly set it over your ear that you hear her scream, "A FUCKING MARRIAGE LAW!" Her ear riping shout makes you wince, "Do you fucking know what this means, Y/N!?" Her excitement is not reciprocated.

"Goodbye my beloved freedom?" You answer groomly. 

You hear her exasperated tsk, "No, silly! This means we could get paired with actual Pro Heroes!"

Oh, yes, Tora's obsession with Pro Heroes. An explosive blond one that is mean to everyone, a green haired one that is considered the Symbol of Peace of this generation, a red head one that looks more like a villain –in your opinion– and a white and red haired one that is colder than ice. And many more. How could you forget that?

You roll your eyes. The only reason you know about those is because of her, Kira and all the stories the kids in your class like to tell you about their favorite heroes.

"I think all of this is ridiculous. They are using us, women, just to procreate."

"Men too, girl. Don't forget that without the fish, there's no egg…" Tora adds, and even though the saying does not go like that, you understand what she means, so you don't even try to correct her, you simply agree. However, the fact that in this current population are more males than females, speaks volumes about the kind of governors that ruled society.

"I know it's both, it's just…"

"You're angry, angry, I know you…" She says, and it warms your heart a bit.

Tora has been your best friend since the first day you walked through the college campus and collided with her. Yes, collided, because she was using her roller skates to get to her room through the crowded place the first time you met. She hadn’t seen you opening the door to the room, trying to avoid precisely not crashing into anyone, but failed with you. You didn’t even have time to react properly before you felt the coalition and both of you fell inside your room, the pair of boxes filled with each other's belongings that each was holding flew and scattered everything around. ‘What a manga scene’, you had thought back then, laughing alongside Tora for such a mess. You have been best friends since then.

Then, alongside came Kira. While Tora is all sunshine and rainbows and a torrent of energy, Kira is the complete opposite. She is chill, wears dark and elegant clothes and looks at everyone like they are underneath her feet. You admired her confidence in every possible situation. 

You, well… You are somewhere in the middle between those two girls. Not too bright but definitely not too dark. However, you were confident in your own skin, so that is what matters.

"And there's all the medical tests we have to do," you went back to the conversation. "What if a woman is sterile, or a man? Would they be absolved from all of this?"

"From what I understood, yes." Tora replies, clearly munching something she is eating.

"I hope I'm sterile!" You hear the comment from somewhere behind Tora. You snort, recognizing Kira's voice.

"Shut up, you dark and pessimistic soul," Tora protests, and you couldn't smile wider. "Oooon another note… have you searched for what permissions we need to take the kids to the museum?"

"Oh, yes! They were kind enough to send me the papers for it." You smile, now excited with this news.

"Fuck. Have I ever told you two how much I admire the patience you both have to work with kids?" You hear movement with Kira's sudden comment from the other line, now closer to the phone. You could imagine both of them lying on their stomachs in Tora's bed.

You smile fondly at Kira's words. Tora and you are school teachers. You teach kids from four to five years old, while Tora decided to teach bigger kids, between nine and ten years old. Again, Kira is the opposite of you two. She is the one with a Stylist major and a very successful career in the fashion industry and all the juicy back stage details.

"No, but a bit of love won't hurt," you say feeling in high spirits even though the news of a big and detrimental change in society had just been announced.

"You kinky Miss Y/L/N, I love you," Kira says in a very seductive low tone of voice as you gasp and Tora erupts in a fit of laughter. She was clearly referring to you as your position of teacher, and that is something no joke should come from. You work with kids, for God's sake!

"Don't you ever say that again!" You protest, trying not to laugh thanks to Tora's contagious one.

"You love me, still." Kira's tone of matter of fact makes you shake your head smiling. These women were your salvation.

“I have an amazing idea!" Suddenly Tora yells in excitement, and you already see it coming, "Let’s say goodbye to Y/N's so beloved freedom and welcome the new hot and lickable male heroes and future husbands in a very 'Trick Trio' way!” You roll your eyes.

No. Never ask about Tora's way of calling your three person friendship. EVER.

You fake a tired sigh but then smile, “Pizza and anime?”

“Pizza and anime, baby!” Kira yells back, and you can hear their high-five through the phone.

See? How could you not be friends with them? They are definitely what you consider the sisters you never had.

.

"What if I get paired with Chargebolt… Or! What if it's Red Riot!" Tora's steps are little jumps as she walks in the middle looking like a kid who is about to be taken to their favorite toy shop. Her excitement is completely shared with Kira's, but the last one has more self consciousness and just chooses to smile as she walks as elegantly as always.

You sigh. It's not that you're completely against this atrocious law. It's more the part in which you don't have any say or choose in it. What if you end up with someone mean? Or a secret villain? Or what if it's someone who is horrible with kids?! 

You were not going to repeat your mom's history. Or so you hoped.

"You know what would be cool? Marrying Red Riot's abbs. Oh, what would I give to sit on that hot and sexy table."

You frown. How…? Why…? You shake your head. You are better not asking.

Being friends with those two taught you way more things than you expected. One of them was that there were times when you didn't need to know or to understand everything they talked about. This was one. 

"You know what's hotter? Dynamight's biceps." Tora contributes as their destination appears at the distance. "My hottest scenario includes Dynamight coming back from work, all sweaty and buffy and making me lick his biceps. Oh, I would gladly die for them."

The imagery makes you gag.

"That's disgusting, Tora," Kira says, surprising you and Tora herself. Kira is always up for nasty and dirty scenarios with the Pro Heroes they like. It's a bit weird that she is not on board with whatever Tora's vivid imagination comes up with. But suddenly, she smiles and looks sideways to her two friends, "I love it."

You roll your eyes for the nth time as Tora beams in the next thing Kira says, "My hottest scenario includes Deku smashing my ass to Detroit." She smiles proudly as Tora groans.

The imagery again makes you wince.

"I swear… those big, powerful hands, ugh."

You do not engage in this type of conversations. Not because you don't find some of this generation of Pro Heroes attractive, they are; and the way that they risk their own lives for the country is very admirable. It's just that you don't follow each thing they do, nor actually know much of them. Of course, you hear the stories of how they defeated some big villains –or even helped a nanny cross the street– through your two obsessed friends and the kids at school that idolized them. But even then, when the news on the TV turns into Heroes feats, you simply change the channel or even turn it off. You have better things to do, honestly.

Your friends keep going on their fake scenarios talk as you three approach the door to the big and ostentatious hospital where the tests for The Pairing are carried out. They are simple blood and Quirk tests, nothing too complicated. From what the old man in the conference said, it was mostly to analyze the physical aspects of each individual to pair them with the best possible counterpart that would have the chance to fertilize the egg on one hundred percent of success. Yes, those are the exact words he used. And the very small, tiny letters in between the lines said: to create humans with the best Quirks ever known.

Of course, no one would ever admit that.

You hmm to something Tora asks your agreement for, not really paying attention to what is the conversation about now.

You don't have a very useful Quirk; not that the thought of becoming a Hero has ever crossed your mind. In fact, being raised by a man like your grandps actually opened your eyes and never even the intention to know more about Heroes in general crossed your mind. So, you really doubt you would ever get paired with some Pro Hero. You're mostly sure that they will be very selective in that aspect. A useless Quirk like yours, which gave you the ability to create illusions, more specifically in paper –you had only once tried it on thin air, and you almost die; so nothing else but paper, thank you very much–, will get nowhere near a Quirk like the oh, all mighty and greatest Pro Hero Deku, for example.

As you look side eye to your friends, and knowing the type of Quirks they have –and their eternal fantasy over Pro Heroes–, you realize you don't have it in you to pop their delusional and warm looking bubble. They are happy in their bubble, and you love seeing them happy.

But the fact remains. They would never pair them with Pro Heroes.

Kira's Quirk consisted in her having the ability to manipulate small things with her fingers from a distance. It had helped her a lot in her career, especially when the time to apply makeup to her clients or even herself came. The distance wasn't much, a couple of feets away, but she said she had never been able to move anything bigger than an eye brush or a pencil. Nevertheless from a very far away distance. She is okay with it though, she is still a hot badass successful woman. You are so proud of her. In Tora's case, she could make letters on the school board or actually any surface grow bigger, but she had never tried it anywhere else. She always says that she's better not having a cool, massive Quirk, or she would be insufferably annoying to everyone. Something you do believe with all your might.

You are so immersed in your thoughts that you hear Tora's warning of "Y/N!" late. You collide with a strong wall, your nose hurting thanks to it. You actually have to rub it to alleviate the pain, already feeling the redness there. But when you open your eyes you realize that the wall turned out not to be a wall, but a man. A huge man. He is the biggest man you have ever stood close to. Tall, almost three heads over yours, arms that looked like big rocks thanks to the thickness. His face is handsome, strong jaw and fine lines that accentuated the elegance in any spot you looked at in his face.

But all that handsomeness is slightly uglied by the deep scowl in his eyebrows.

"Watch where you're going, grub."

His bark almost goes unnoticed by the thickness in his voice that makes you tingle in places it shouldn't. But as he walks past you, you realize what he said… Did he just…?

"Did you just call me a grub?"

He doesn't reply to you, but he does look slightly back at you and you see the corner of his mouth lift a slight centimeter in a smirk.

"Oh, fuck you, asshole!"

You yell as he simply walks out of the building through the door, not troubled at all by your insult.

What a stupid jerk.

"I'm on your side, I'll forever, always be on your side," Tora appears suddenly next to you, her hand grabbing yours as you watch the jerk walk away, "but that was a fine, delectable man that you just insulted very out loud in the middle of a Hospital reception."

"He started it." You defend yourself before turning around and walking towards the counter, trying to ignore all the stares in your direction.

You hear both of your friends sigh in delight as they keep staring at the guy.

"Traitors." You shake your head, receiving the form you had to complete from the receptionist. You wanted to get out of that Hospital as soon as possible.

Two hours later, you were sitting in front of an old lady who looked at you like you had just been the shit she accidentally stepped on outside, and it was your fault. By the white doctor's gown she wears, and the little medal of the government attached to the right pocket of the gown, it isn't difficult to comprehend that she is the medical scientist in charge of the whole Pairing part of the law.

"Your test results are good. All functioning well and wealthy. You are fertile." Her robot tone makes you angry, and you want to protest so hard about all this protocol bullshit–about the whole fucking law! But for some reason, you can't take your eyes from the big, heary looking mole that stands on her face, right next to her nose on the left side.

You can even hear Kira in your head, "That is an uuuuuugly mole. I mean, the woman is ugly, but that mole makes it worse. Like a witch. A witches face indeed. Would her Quirk be a witch?" And you can hear Tora laughing at Kira's words. And you feel bad about thinking about all of this as the woman speaks.

"It won't take long to find a perfect match for your eggs." You visibly wince at her words. 

"The fact that you people call it egg, only makes me feel like a chicken being prepared to–..."

"A chicken would be able to find itself a partner faster than you. Your age and still no children? You're clearly the problem, not your body."

You're sitting perplexed in your seat. The hot, very fucking hot sensation of letting yourself explode in anger travelling up your body. Who the fuck does she think she is?

Now you definitely don't feel bad about your thoughts.

She sighs, tiredly and annoying at your mere presence, "You shall receive a letter in the span of three to five days with the results. There will also be the date in which you'll have to meet your husband with the representative governor who will make you sign the contract."

She closes your chart and puts it away, then she looks boringly at you, expecting you to go.

The venom is right at your tongue, and you can't go without saying anything to this… horrible woman.

"I'm twenty five years old, and I haven't had kids because I made the choice not to. You're almost sixty, what's your excuse?"

Hell, you don't know if she has or not kids of her own, but by the expression on her face, eyes and mouth opening wide in indignance, says you have just spot on the right thing to say.

You smile, big and fakingly charming, as you stand and leave the doctor's office without giving her a chance to say anything else.

Once you're outside, you swear loudly. You just dug your own grave. Fuck.

.

Two days later, a letter was left in your mailbox. It had the signature of the Government so it wasn't difficult to comprehend that it was about this freaking law. You don't open it though until you're inside your apartment. You leave it at the table, while throwing your bag and tote bag  with the Tupperware of the day inside, over the couch. You need to firstly freshen up before you get into your house duties.

You turn on the TV, news channel currently going, and walk towards your room to get changed. Thanks to the small apartment you own, you don't need to have the TV very loud to be able to hear it from your room. You leave alone, you don't need much or a bigger space.

"It happened again! Heroes Deku and Dynamight saved the day once more! A group of synchronized villains attack the Central Bank of Tokyo, witnesses say–..." 

You huff, not really paying attention anymore. It's not that you aren't interested in what happened, you'll know either way tomorrow when Tora goes on about it, all day.

Once you're more comfortable, you walk back to the living room/kitchen, grab your tote bag so you put all the Tupperware to wash, still news of heroes on the TV that you really don't pay attention to. When that's done, tote bag folded back in its drawer and everything cleaned up, you turn and see the letter. You sigh, grab it and walk to the couch to sit.

"On other news, the Law is already taking effect in our country. Today, after five days of the official announcement, the first three couples have signed the Contracts after being Paired. All of the males are Heroes."

"Do you think it is a coincidence?" Comments the other journalist of the show.

"I don't think it is. It's clear that Heroes have the pressure to make this work alongside the government," answers another, to whom you snort in agreement.

"I agree. I don't know if it's by duty or support, but in the end, they are like us, don't you think?"

They kept talking about it as you opened the envelope in your hands and read its content.

'Ms Y/L/N, the government it's pleased to announce that your results have been Paired. We happily wait for you on the following date to meet your Paired to officially place a date for your Contracts.'

You feel like vomiting.

Shit, it's happening faster than you thought.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha scenarios #mha imagines #mha bakugou katsuki #mha midoriya izuku #mha bakugou x reader #mha midoriya izuku x reader #mha bakugou x reader x midoriya #bnha midoriya izuku #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha midoriya izuku x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha angst #bnha fluff #bnha marriage law #mha marriage law #mha angst #mha fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bakugou x midoriya #bakugou x reader x midoriya #bakugou katsuki x you #izuku midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #koi no yokan fanfiction

[honey-on-your-tongue]

hey! love your works so much 😍

can you write ab navi reader wearing short skirts and that made jake jealous cause everyone’s looking at you so he’s being a little mean to her hihi 🥵

idk if that’s even logical but it’s blue alien smut it’s not that serious right 🫢

AAAA I'm so glad you like my work baby!! 💕💕💕

🤭🤭🤭 when it comes to big blue Daddy, there's nothing I won't implement into the fic 💚💚💚

Jake's eyes are on you, watching your every move, studying your bare thighs. It's driving him insane, the way your tiny, tiny loincloth flows around you, the way he can see others staring at you.

His anger spikes, the rage clawing at the inside of his throat as it attempts to snarl everyone away from you.

He likes when you dress like that for him. But he must emphasize the him portion of that. Now that you're wearing it and everyone can see you, it doesn't thrill him as much.

And you—you don't even seem to notice. You just walk around, smiling at everyone, being kind and sweet as usual. You don't realize the looks they give you, the way they watch you, and it makes him fucking angry.

He watches as you help a little girl fill a basket with fruits, and, as you do, you bend over, and Jake can see everything. Your sweet ass, your pretty pussy, and it makes his cock jerk under his loincloth. And he's had enough.

He stalks towards you and grabs you by the arm, to which you turn to face him and then offer him a small smile. You don't even get to greet him before he's dragging you away without telling you anything.

“Jake!” you laugh softly, his grip on your arm tight. “What's going on?”

When he doesn't reply, you know something's up. He drags you all the way to your shared tent and just about pushes you inside. He storms in after you, and the scent of his anger suddenly invades your nostrils.

“Jake?” you question, heart beginning to race at the look in his eyes, dark and predatory.

“You're a slut,” he accuses, voice sharp and mean. “Walkin' 'round in that fucking thing, letting everyone look.” He scoffs. “Might as well let 'em all fuck you, too.”

Your eyes widen, ears folding back. You're somewhat offended by the accusation, but the scent of his rage, of his possessiveness is making your pussy grow wet. “Maybe I will,” you throw back, studying his reaction.

Jake's eyes narrow. He scoffs, laughing, and says, “So on top of the fact that you're a whore, you're being a brat about it?”

You shrug, watching him, and Jake groans.

“That's it, come here,” he demands as he takes a seat on the edge of the cot and pats his thigh.

Your eyes are on his as you obediently walk to him. He pulls you onto his lap, his large hands caressing over the skin of your ass and holding onto your hips.

“You're mine, hm?” he says, those amber eyes focused on yours. “Mine. You have any fucking idea how crazy it makes me when others look at you? Do you understand how bad I need to remind them all that you're mine?”

You smile softly. “I am yours.”

“Yeah, but with how you behave, you might as well belong to everyone,” he says.

“But I don't. I'm yours. Only yours, Jake,” you tell him.

“Well we've gotta show 'em that, huh?”

You grin softly. “You're going to fuck me in front of everyone?”

“If I have to,” Jake replies, kissing your neck, his mouth warm and wet. “If you want me to.”

You giggle softly. “Let everyone see me all naked while you fuck me?”

Jake chuckles against your skin. “On second thought, I will definitely not be fucking you in front of anyone else. That sight is reserved for me and me only, girl.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands playing with the hair at the back of his head, fingers tracing over his braid.

Jake smirks as he kisses his way down your neck, to your collarbone.

“Tsaheylu,” you beg quietly, reaching for your queue. “Jake, please.”

He reaches for his own braid, holding it out to you, his eyes watching the look of excitement on your face. As the tendrils connect, you shudder, gasping quietly. You can feel Jake's anger, his jealousy, and there's something about the way he venerates you, about how he just refuses to let anyone so much as glimpse at you, that makes butterflies burst in your stomach.

Jake kisses your mouth softly, gently, his hands crawling to your thighs and then moving up. He slides his hands under your loincloth and tugs the flimsy item off, leaving you bare. He caresses a thumb over your clit, relishing in the pleasure that reaches him through the bond, his cock throbbing as you moan softly.

“This what you wanted?” he asks. “Hm? For me to touch you and remind you who you belong to?”

“Didn't do it on purpose,” you murmur, trying to hold his intense gaze, but you're flustered, and it shows in the way you keep diverting your eyes from his.

Jake smiles softly. It's something about the way you don't realize, about the way you can be so naive and innocent, that just makes him all soft and careful on the inside. And that usually turns into a scorching passion that will burn for hours.

“I know, love,” he says, licking over your lips. “I still gotta remind you that you're mine, don't I?”

You nod. “Yes, please,” you reply, breathless.

He grins as he pushes his loincloth aside, his cock springing free, and you eagerly lift your hips a little, eyes trained on his thick, long erection.

Jake runs the thick head over your folds, your slick smearing on him, before he pushes into you. You gasp, moaning at the feeling of fullness.

Jake doesn't even give you time to adjust. One moment, he's groaning as he fills you, and the next, he's fucking into you, rutting his hips up as his hands pull you up and down.

You gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, squeals of delight and cries of pleasure escaping your lips.

Jake watches your breasts bounce. They peek through your beaded top, your pretty nipples hard, and he lowers his head to suck at one of them.

You mewl at the sensation, pleasure shooting through your body, making you weak all over. Jake's cock bruises your cervix, his girth stretches your gummy walls almost past their limit, and he drags against that spongy spot inside you that makes you whimper.

“Jake,” you mewl, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck! 's so good!”

“Yeah, I know,” Jake replies, chuckling, his own ecstasy swirling in his body. “It's real fuckin' amazing, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding, as he ruts into you. You can feel the pleasure within you, a burning sensation that consumes your body, your mind. And you can feel Jake's pleasure through tsaheylu, which only adds to your ecstasy. It makes your body shake, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“My gorgeous girl,” Jake says, kissing your jaw. “My girl. Not anyone else's but mine.”

“Yours,” you agree. “All yours.”

Your pussy clenches tight, making Jake grunt. “Goddamn. That's my girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders and you throw your head back, the pleasure increasing dramatically, without warning, making you cry out.

“Jake!” you mewl. “Jake!” Your hips writhe against Jake's, your skin clammy and sticky, the feeling of Jake's pleasure making you dizzy.

“Shh,” Jake coos. “Easy, girl. Easy.”

You shake your head. “I-I can't! Feels too good!” you whine.

Jake licks up your throat, making you shiver. “I know, baby. I know. You're close, hm? It's okay, I know you can take it a while longer, yeah?”

You bite your lip. “Mkay,” you agree, trying to ignore the pleasure, trying to push it away. But it's so difficult. Jake is just so big, his cock touches all the right spots. He bruises your cervix, kisses your g-spot, and his hipbone drags against your clit. The combination is driving you insane. All that, added up with his scent, his fierce look, his possessive hands that roam all over your body—

Fuck.

Jake studies your face, the way you pinch your eyebrows in concentration, the way little sounds leave your lips involuntarily. Everything about you makes his cock twitch inside of you, his load threatening to spill deep into your cunt.

“You're such a good girl, baby,” he says, smirking, as he kisses your shoulder. “Such a good girl. I think you deserve my cum in you, hm? Think I should fill you up so everyone can smell me in you.” He grazes his sharp teeth over your collarbone. “And maybe I'll give you a baby too. Maybe I'll fill you with my child, make it real clear to everyone that you're mine.”

At this, you whimper, gasping, your pussy growing tight around his cock. “Yes! Please! Fill me up! Please, Jake! Want your baby!”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you do, huh?” He can feel your orgasm nearing, the pleasure within you threatening to burst. “Go ahead, girl. Come all over my cock and then I'll fill ya up, hm?”

You mewl, toes curling, entire body writhing with ecstasy. “Yes!” you gasp, your mind overcome by the idea of being full of Jake's cum. “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” The pleasure coils tightly in your womb, making your body grow taut before your orgasm explodes within you, making you cry out. Your slick gushes out of you, dripping onto Jake's lap, and he shudders as he feels your release through tsaheylu.

“Goddamn,” Jake groans as he comes himself, his load spilling into you. His seed is thick and warm, sticky as it fills your raw pussy, making you mewl softly. “Fuck.”

You're breathing heavily, stars dancing behind your eyelids, and Jake chuckles as he kisses the tip of your nose. He places a hand on top of your womb and says, “Let's hope I give you a baby, hm? That way, everyone will know you're mine.”

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie

-----

Blog masterlist

#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #avatar smut #inbox requests #inbox asks #inbox is always open #spam my inbox #flood my inbox #inbox <3

[eldritch-nightmare]

Had smth in mind based on those Jeff Headcannons you did,,,,,What about The Doll Maker or Bloody Painter(or both idk I’m indecisive) yandere Headcannons but with a willing reader,,,Thought abt that while listening to Ayesha Erotica, idk how

a/n: your wish is my command. going with the bloody painter since i haven't really written much for him here yet. this one got away from me a bit. sorry if it's messy, but i hope you find enjoyment from it nonetheless <3

yandere bloody painter with a willing s/o.

warnings: gn!reader, yandere content, puppeteer cameo bc why not, crush at first... smile?, reader goes to an art school, reader has some questionable morals, stalking, possessive behavior, murder, blood, breaking and entering, the public nor authorities doesn't know that helen is the bloody painter in this btw, morbid painting, a brief description of gore, idk art so sorry if i describe it incorrectly.

Oh, man. I can see him behaving in two different ways. One is the way he'd behave around you if you were there in his childhood and the other is if he met you after everything happened. For this, we'll focus on how he behaves after everything happened.

Helen is very emotionally reserved and pretty apathetic, to be honest with you. It's very difficult to get close to him. I like to think that you two met while he was getting some more art supplies.

He saw you struggling to pick between two paints and, being the artist that he is, he decided to do something a little nice for once and help you out.

And, a little bit to his surprise, that led to a rather lengthy conversation about art as you detailed to him the art project you were working on and how you really weren't sure what direction you wanted to take it because the prompt given to you didn't give you any ideas.

And as we all know, Helen is nothing if not an artist. So, obviously, he listens to every little detail you provide him and offers some advice that may help you out before you two go your separate ways.

And--

Huh. Why'd his chest suddenly feel all warm at the sight of your smile?

He finds himself drawing your smiling face later, thinking that maybe the warm feeling in his chest was just a random burst of inspiration. I mean, he is an artist after all. Inspiration tends to strike at the most random times.

His dear friend seems to think otherwise.

"Aw, does Helen have a little crush?" -> "If you don't have anything of value to say, then please keep your mouth shut."

He doesn't have a crush on you. Not that he knows what it's like to have a crush, I mean he's never been in love before, but he doesn't. No way.

Then he sees you again, and damn. I guess The Puppeteer was right. He does have a crush. Oh well. He accepts this revelation immediately and comes to terms with this newfound feeling rather quickly.

It's just a small crush, one that he's sure will go away soon. But he's never felt this way before, and the feeling leaves him curious, so he finds himself actively seeking you out.

He doesn't consider it to be stalking at first, just... studying. But then he follows you home one day, and he realizes that maybe these feelings of his aren't as small as he thought they were.

Does he feel bad for stalking you? I think, momentarily, he questions why he's doing this but... he's not a great guy in the first place. He does kill people and use their blood as paint, after all.

And you're aware that someone is watching you. You can feel eyes on you most nights. You should be scared, you know that, but... for some reason, you don't. If anything, you start leaving your blinds open more often.

Helen will sometimes even sketch you while he watches you. The way you hold yourself and the way you move around... it just makes him want to capture every moment he can in his sketchbook. He even briefly considers picking up photography as a hobby the longer he watches you, but he decides to just stick with his own form of art.

But he really likes it when he gets to see you make your own art.

And that's when he breaks into your home for the first time. You were out with some friends, and when you came home, you noticed your door was unlocked. At first, you didn't really think much of it, but when you went to your room, you couldn't help but feel as if something were off.

It took you a while, but you soon discovered that some of your drawings were missing. Thankfully, none of the ones you drew for class were missing.

You had no means of contacting your stalker, which you suppose is a good thing, so instead you just wrote on a piece of paper and taped it to your window.

'Glad you like my drawings.'

And the next day, taped on the outside of your window was a little doodle of a smiley face.

You didn't give this odd relationship much thought, to be honest. You thought it was kinda cute that this random stranger seemed to derive some type of joy from watching you. He hasn't done anything to hurt you, and his intentions don't seem malicious, so you honestly had no problem with it.

Of course, your friends definitely thought it was weird. They think that you need to report your stalker to the police, but you choose to ignore their concerns. You reassure them that if you ever feel as if you're life is in any danger, you'll inform the authorities about what's happening.

So, it goes on like this for a while. Helen would mostly stick to watching you from afar, but sometimes he'd break into your place while you're sleeping just to get a closer look at you. Sometimes, you'll wake up and there will be a drawing of you on your nightstand. You keep those drawings tucked away safely in one of the many empty sketchbooks you own.

Then a... domino effect of sorts took place.

You started going to a new café since it was closer to where you lived and closer to the school you attended. -> There's a cute barista there who always flirts with you whenever you buy a coffee or get yourself a treat. -> You humored their behavior because you thought it was cute, so you would flirt back sometimes. -> It became routine, and a couple weeks into the routine, the barista just up and vanished.

You thought they had quit, but you overheard some of the other employees at the café whispering about how they hadn't heard anything from them.

Something that should have been completely unrelated, you lose your red paint. You can't find it anywhere.

Continuing on with the domino effect, a day or two goes by and you hear on the news that the barista you had been flirting with was found dead in their home, drained dry of their blood. The police believe this to be another victim of The Bloody Painter.

You wouldn't have thought much of it, but then you notice a note taped to your window.

'There's a gift for you in your kitchen.'

And when you went to your kitchen, you saw a container resting on the counter. It wasn't translucent or see-through, so you couldn't see inside of it, but there was another note resting on top of it.

'I saw you were out of red paint, so I got you some more. We should meet up this week and paint together, don't you think? I'd love to see what you can create with this.'

And the note wasn't signed with a smiley face this time. It was signed with a name.

Helen Otis.

You set the note to the side and one quick look inside the container told you that he had given you blood to use as paint.

It didn't take you long to piece together what was going on here. The blood he had given you was no doubt the blood of the barista who had been murdered, which means... your stalker was that serial killer that's been all over the news these past few months.

The person who has been breaking into your home and leaving you those drawings was a serial killer. And he... he trusted you enough to tell you his name?

Holy shit, that's a lot to take in.

You should be panicking. Hell, you should be calling the police to let them know about all of this. You'd be doing the world some good if you did that, and it would save a lot of lives.

But your gaze drifts back to the note, and your mind wanders to all the drawings he's made of you, and... this was just so...

Cute. It felt romantic, even.

He killed a person you had been flirting with and gave you their blood as a gift. That has to be his way of letting you know that you were his.

You didn't even think about what you were going to do. You took the container of blood and you took it to your room. It didn't take you long to set up a tarp on the ground since it was no doubt going to drip onto your floor and you really didn't need blood stains in your carpet.

And you searched up a reference of what you wanted to paint, and you immediately got to work.

Later that night, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, Helen was breaking into your home for the nth time.

The reason why is because you had left a note for him to see on your window, one that had certainly caught his attention.

There's a gift for you in the kitchen.

You've never left him a gift before, so his curiosity was certainly piqued.

He made sure to be quiet as he made his way to your kitchen, not wanting to wake you up. He wasn't ready to meet you. Not yet.

When he gets to your kitchen, he certainly wasn't really expecting to see a canvas resting on the counter, a white sheet covering whatever was painted on it. A sticky note was placed on the sheet as well, and Helen stepped closer to it to read it.

This is what it looked like, right?

p.s. I'm willing to take you up on that offer.

And on the corner of the sticky note, there was a small smiley face doodle. How cute.

With the note read, Helen wasted no time carefully removing the sheet from the canvas, a subtle excitement coursing through his veins.

And... oh. Oh, you're as fucked up as him, aren't you?

What he sees is a downright devastatingly beautiful piece of work.

The painting was completely done with just the blood he had given you, with a few pencil marks for shading, and it depicted the murder he had committed just a few days prior.

He imagines that it was rather easy to find a photo of the crime scene online, but you were somehow able to capture the scene perfectly and you weren't ever there.

From the way the body was hanging upside down from the ceiling, a few buckets underneath it to collect the blood dripping from it. The way lifeless look in their eyes that you had done with a pencil... the gashes all over their body...

You had passed the test he had set up for you.

He took this as a sign of acceptance. A sign that you wanted to be his. You wouldn't keep the blood and make such a masterpiece with it if you didn't, right?

A slight smile formed on his face at the thought, and he stood there and admired the art you had made for him.

Hmm... maybe he'll stick around until you wake up...

#tanuukiiii #the bloody painter x reader #the bloody painter x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #yandere x reader #yandere bloody painter #yandere bloody painter x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader

[snaillock]

i’m sorry but the fact that rin is canonically flunks most of his class except for english (cause he be on that sigma soccer grindset babyyy) has been lingering in my mind for like a week or so oh my god

like imagine him not caring enough about those classes (why care about your geometry grade when you’re gonna be the best striker anyway or whatever’s going on in his head) until one of his teachers nags him about improving his grades, even suggesting a tutor. at first he’s way too prideful to seek help from a tutor but the teacher’s incessant nagging made him give in and find a tutor who’s happens to be another student in his school, most likely an upperclassman.

while he’s waiting for you to show up clearly running a few minutes late, he mumbles to himself about how unnecessary and “lukewarm” this tutoring shit is.

when you finally showed up and gave your quick apologies for your tardiness, you took one look at rin’s impatient/borderline judgmental face and decided it was best to cut out the fluffy introductions and dive straight into it.

he’s pretty reluctant about telling you what exactly he’s having trouble with in class since being here already bruises his ego enough. not to mention, he’s very doubtful about your skills as a tutor (definitely isn’t personal ofc, he just be like that). you, of course, prove him wrong and also get him to share what he’s struggling with so you can actually help. then surprise! surprise! he already shows a lot of improvement by the end of the session.

the way you get him to open up about his academic struggles with ease kinda freaks him out but he goes along with it

there was just something about your patient yet stern way of teaching that made rin drawn into that made him focus up and actually work. clearly a step up from his shitty lukewarm teachers. after that session, rin soon found himself booking another one… then another… and another after that… ok look you just have an efficient way of teaching that does not cut into his precious soccer time. it’s not because of any other reason, he swears!

i imagine when he lowers his walls and slowly starts falling in love, he becomes a huge mess internally. can you blame him though? he’s never done this before. he’s never felt this before. oh my god. what do people even do when they’re in love?? what the hell even is love??? someone please answer him before he starts spiraling!!!

while these questions run around in his head, he watches as you explain the assignment he has to do for one of his classes, too engrossed in teaching to notice the redness on his neutral face

eventually he accepts his feelings for you but he’s still very lost on what to do now. after all, he has only had people fawn over him and he has never returned those feelings before. thus he has no idea what to do when he’s actually interested in someone and gets stuck for an indefinite amount of time.

oh rin itoshi. the man who can literally psychoanalyze the opposing team in 0.005 seconds and knows when to perfectly strike also has absolutely no clue on when and how to ask someone out.

so now the ball is in your court if you reciprocate his feelings and want to become more than just mere tutor and student

a.n.: this was supposed to be a three sentence thingy idk what the fuck just possessed me today

#★ snail.writes ★ #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #shout outs to that one bllk fun fact post that made me wanna read rin’s light novel #rin x gender neutral reader #rin x gn reader #blue lock imagines #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x gender neutral reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x gn reader #wrote this while watching aaron and jo #just recently discovered their channel and they’re so fucking funny

[neverinadream]

You're His Girlfriend, But You Belong To Me - Part Three

Summary: Emotions run high and hearts are broken in the final chapter of yours and Christian's affair.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader // Ty (OC) x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Trying Not To Love You - Nickelback

Warnings: angst, themes of infidelity, heartbreak, a break up, arguing, confessions of infidelity, confessions of love, possessiveness, references of ownership, cocky!christian, violence, suggestive themes....idk if i'm missing anything

Notes: and it's....almost finished!! there is an epilogue still to be posted. i loved this little miniseries a lot, even if the theme isn't everyone's cup of tea. big thanks to @thoseboysinblue who is always there to bounce ideas off, couldn't have done it without you 🫶🏻. the flow is a little dodgy towards the end and there are parts that could've been done so much better but i've gotten too much in my own head over this, so i'm just going to give it to you how it is. what do we want to see in the future?? more miniseries like this?? thank you to all those that read it and gave me feedback on the other parts. it truly means a lot! anyway...feedback is always appreciated!

"Hi. Hello."

Hushed voices are reduced to silence as you appear in front of the microphone, fixing the skirt of the sage-coloured dress that had been trying to kill you all day. The material was soft to the touch and it helped to ease the anxiety riddling your veins, and it didn't matter how many times Ty told you how beautiful you looked, the deadly contraption had to go. The bodice was too tight on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs, and the length of the skirt was too long on your legs, even when wearing your heels. Your mother called it karma for not being there in person when your older sister was making the preparations for her wedding like the rest of her bridesmaids were.

"Wow, there's a lot of you here today," you nervously laughed, pinching at your dress and rubbing the material between your thumb and finger as you looked out at the ocean of guests before you. They were friends and family, but you still didn't recognise nearly half of them. The ones you did recognise didn't look at you with blank expressions, and when you found Christian sitting with the rest of his family, a wave of comfort washed over you as he gave you a subtle smile over the rim of his champagne flute. "For those who don't know me, I am Carrie's little sister," you introduce yourself, "and much like the family dog, I like long walks on the beach, constant attention, and taking naps after I've eaten too much food." You try not to smile as your opening line leaves a few of the guests laughing. "Or, perhaps that's Carrie," you pull a face of confusion, "we've gone our whole lives being mixed up with each other, that even I'm beginning to mix us up."

You glance over at your sister, your hand gently holding onto the top of the microphone, as your other hand curls around the stand. "I'm not sure what Carrie knew what she was getting herself into when she asked me to give a speech today. I'm not a comedian like our older brother, so I can't make you all laugh until your sides hurt, and I'm no poet like our father, so please put your tissues and handkerchiefs back in your pockets, but what I can do is list all of Carrie's amazing qualities that will make her the greatest wife of all time." You release the microphone and reach into your bodice, pulling out a folded napkin you had hidden before your turn. "So," you clear your throat, unfolding the blank napkin, "Carrie is...she..." Guests laugh as you squint at the napkin, pulling it closer to your face. "Hmm," you fold the napkin back up and stuff it into your dress, "I guess I won't be doing that then."

"As kids, we hated each other, and I think that was because of our two very contrasting personalities. Carrie was a loud-mouthed, bitchy psychopath, and I was just perfect, but as we got older, Carrie was like a fucking rockstar to me. I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to dip my toes into every pond that she jumped into. I wanted to be able to craft the perfect lie to our parents, only for it to all fall apart at the very last second. Our parents told my sister that she could not go to any senior prom after parties and like the crafty genius Carrie was, she told our parents that she was stuck in traffic for three whole hours. And she would've got away with it if our next door neighbour hadn't found her upside down in his hedge."

You smile up at your sister as you turn to her again, who was already dabbing her eyes with a napkin. "Carrie became my metaphorical flight attendant, always there to warn me that life will come with turbulence, but that I should never panic because life will always have a way of working itself out. When I was given the opportunity to move out of the country, Carrie was the first person who told me to grasp it with both hands and never let it go. She'll be your biggest supporter..." Your voice cracks and she blows a kiss in your direction, which only makes it easier for the tears to escape. "...even when you're making questionable decisions, and I am entirely grateful to have you as my big sister."

"Now, Daveed," you address your brother-in-law, giggling as he hides his face behind a napkin, "when I first met you, I was confused." He laughs louder than the rest of the guests, a laugh so infectious it has you laughing along with him. "I was confused because I couldn't understand how someone could be so selfless and loving as you are, without there being some other ulterior motives. But meeting Carrie was the best decision you have ever made. Before you, Carrie was like that one troll who lived under a bridge in every fairytale you read as a kid. She had a heart as cold as ice when it came to love, and I honestly believed she would grow old with seventy cats. But your ever-giant loving heart has transformed her into the beautiful princess you see sitting before you today. But, you know what they say if you can't handle her at her worst, then you don't deserve to her at her best, and I don't think there is anyone more deserving of Carrie's love and terrible cooking than you, Daveed. It's been such an honour and joy to welcome you into our circus of freaks, and I'm happy that we didn't scare you off."

"So, I'll leave you with this: when I think about the greatest love stories of all time, I used to think of Paris and Helen of Troy, a love so great it started a war, but now I can only think of yours." You reach to retrieve your champagne, raising the glass into the air, signaling others to copy. "So, if you could kindly join me in raising a toast to the happy couple," your eyes flick over to Christian, another flood of warmth spilling through you as the subtle smile before now reached his eyes, before guiltily panning your eyes over to Ty as you say, "may we all have a love story as great as theirs."

———————

"Cute speech-"

"Don't tease me-"

"I'm not..." Christian breaks your bickering with a harsh sigh. "I wasn't teasing you. I was being nice." You raise your eyebrows and make a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "I can be nice," he rolls his eyes, backing you against the gazebo, the old stone cold and rough against your skin. He dips his lips against your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses against your warm skin. "I can be really nice," he chuckles, biting down and sucking on your collarbone.

"Christian, don't!" You groan, but your warning was futile. He pulls back to inspect his art and you wince as he grazes his finger over the bruise. You push him away and cover the spot with your hand; there was no lie big enough to cover this one up. Not from Ty. And especially not from your family. You hadn't let Ty do more than kiss your cheek in the presence of them all weekend. "Why do you always have to do that?"

"Because I like to mark the things that belong to me."

"I'm not yours," you bite back, but the possessive tone in his voice floods your belly with heat.

"Yes, you are." Your fingers fist tightly into his ear as he presses his mouth against your neck and grazes his tongue against it. "Say it," he demands to hear the words that now made his heart stutter. His hands skimmed up your arms, over your shoulders, and cradled the sides of your neck, tipping your head back as he pulled away to look at you. There was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn't read, a strange mix of hunger and longing. "Tell me you're mine."

"No."

He frowns, chasing your lips as you turn your head. "Come on, say it."

"You say it," you counter, the words coming out more like a plea. Just once, you wanted to hear him say it, even if you knew he didn't mean it. You were too far deep into this mess that even a lie would make you happy. "Say you're mine," you bring his mouth closer to yours, "please, say it."

He hesitates and whispers, "I'm...not yours." Your heart cracks. Of course, he wasn't going to say it. He only wanted you for the thrill of sleeping with another's girlfriend, you knew he would never want you for your heart.

"We should go back inside," you cast your eyes off to the side. He whispers something about not being finished with you yet, but you find the strength to push him away. "Chris, if someone comes to look for me-"

He silences you with a scoff. "And by someone you mean Mr. Boring?"

"Leave him alone."

"He's pathetic, Y/N, when are you going to see that?" He snaps back at you, his face only inches from yours. You press your back further into the wall of the gazebo, trying to create some space between you. "That whole good guy act he performs for everybody?" He pulls a face of disgust. "He's got your parents wrapped around his little finger with that one."

"It's not an act!" You reply through gritted teeth. Though you didn't love Ty anymore, you still felt obligated to stick up for him. "He is a good guy, Christian, but you wouldn't know that because you have never taken the time to get to know him! Perhaps you should've, maybe then you would've seen what it looks like to have heart."

Your words make him take a step back. "I have a heart," he dismisses your claim.

You take a step forward and press your finger against the centre of his chest. "This?" He winces as you jab your finger harder against his chest. "This is empty! Barren! Incapable of feeling any emotion!"

He bats your hand away. "Before you start accusing me of anything, sweetheart, perhaps you should take a long hard look in the mirror," he counters, his voice laced with bitterness, "remember, I'm not the one fucking another guy behind my boyfriend's back." He watches your mouth open and close, swallowing your breath as your eyes widen. "What's the matter, baby?" He mocks. "Don't you like being reminded of the truth?"

Behind, standing only a few feet away, Ty looked on at the two of you, the colour draining from his cheeks until he was no whiter than the shirt he wore. When you hadn't returned from your room, Ty had gotten worried, but when there was no sign of you in your hotel room and someone had mentioned seeing you going outside, he wasn't prepared to see you and Christian together. He had just heard the end when you had clocked him approaching.

"Ty," you whisper his name, bottom lip trembling as the first cracks in your perfectly constructed lie begin to show.

He looks between you and Christian, his eyes landing on your collarbone as you step around the obstacle between you. For a moment there's a flicker of anger, but it sizzles away and morphs into pain. That hickey was an answer to a question he didn't even need to ask. A question he didn't want to ask.

"Ty, this isn't-"

"Please, don't," he held up his hand to stop you, "please don't be one of those people who try to say it isn't what I think it is. I heard him, Y/N, I heard what he said." You bite your lip and nod your head, deciding not to inflict any further damage. What use was there in lying to him anymore? "I guess I should've known something was off between us when we stopped having sex," Ty sniffles, fighting back tears, "something like that just doesn't stop without there being a reason."

Christian sniggered from behind you. "I can promise you she was well cared for." Ty glanced over at him, making it known that he had heard him but pulled his attention back to you. "Wow! Really?" He lets out a surprised laugh. "I just told you I'm fucking your girlfriend and you don't even react." He takes a step forward and firmly presses his body against yours. His hand sits on your hip, pinning you to the spot on which you stood. It was like he was saying I won to Ty without really ever really saying it. "You know, whilst you were tucked into bed last night, I was tucked into her-"

"That's enough!"

"No, no, no, no," Christian tuts, shaking his head, "Ty has to know the truth."

"I've heard enough."

He looks up at Ty. "You sure?" He gives him the biggest grin he can muster up. One that could've earned him a hard blow to the face if Ty had been anyone else. "Don't you want me to remind you of what it feels like to have her lips wrapped around your cock? Or describe the sound she makes when she cums?"

Ty ignores him and fishes something from the inside pocket of his blazer. "I thought you were my forever, but I guess we were on different pages," he steps forward and presses something small into the palm of your hand, "give this back to Nelly for me." You look down into your hand, your heart shattering when you recognise the dainty piece of silver to be your grandmother's ring. It was a thin band of silver with a small emerald gem passed down from mother to daughter. The perfect ring, you had once told Ty after he spotted it in a photograph of you and your grandmother. "I don't think I'll be needing it anymore, do you?"

The ring disappears into the palm of your hand as you fold your fingers into a tight fist. It symbolised everything you wanted out of life: true happiness and everlasting love. So as you held it against your chest, you foolishly believed that if you held it there for long enough, it might mend the fractured pieces of your heart. And as you looked up to say one last goodbye to the kindest man who woke up every day with nothing but love in his heart, you discovered he was already gone. You could just see his silhouette disappearing back into the ballroom.

Christian had just caught a glimpse of the silver band over your shoulder. Seeing the dainty piece of metal had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and knowing it had been temporarily in Ty's possession set a new kind of anger coursing through his veins, making his skin hot as it boiled his blood. "Why did you tell him about Nelly's ring?" He asked, seeking the truth to a matter that shouldn't have taken precedence over the giant tears streaming down your cheeks. "What did he do to deserve to know about Nelly's ring?"

"He loved me," you choke on your sobs, "and maybe you don't recall it, but there was a time when I loved him."

"You never loved him," he dismisses another one of your claims.

"Do not think for a second that you claim to know the names that I hold dear to my heart!" You glance over your shoulder and see no sympathy in his golden eyes. You were broken, and yet here he stood, all intact. He didn't care. "I loved him," you repeat yourself, "and he loved me."

Christian leaned back against the gazebo, ignoring the strange pang of guilt in his chest. "Yeah," he casts his eyes down at his shirt, fixing one of the buttons, as he says, "but then you slept with me, and I opened your eyes to a new world of possibilities." Your face twists with a sour expression. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that," he chuckles dryly, "I just saved you from a boring marriage and your inevitable-" The rest of his words are knocked from his mouth as you drag your hand across his face, connecting your palm to his cheek with a loud slap.

"Y/N!?" Someone shouts your name, but you don't look back to see who.

Instead, you stumble away from Christian, the same hand you had slapped him with now covering your mouth. "Shit!" It's muffled by your hand, but your wide eyes connect with his even bigger eyes, and you are both stunned into silence. You couldn't believe it. "I-I..." You bring both hands over your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm so sorry," you repeat like a broken record as fresh tears break from your eyes, "I-I didn't mean to do that."

Christian rubs his hand against his cheek and moves his head away from Kelley, who had been the voice shouting at you only moments ago. She had stepped outside to catch a few minutes of air, becoming a witness to the fallout of the disaster that was unfolding around you.

Kelley looks between the two of you. On one side, she has her son, his cheek red with the imprint of your hand, and on the other, she has a shadow of your former self. She takes a deep breath and turns to you first, offering a sympathetic smile as she asks, "Y/N, sweetie, what's going on?"

Growing up, Kelley had been like a second mother to you. You had lost count of the times she had patched up your knees after you had scraped them from falling over. Christian was forever on the move, and you just wanted to keep up with him. It didn't matter how fast he got as the two of you got older, you were there running behind him, and Kelley was behind you with a band-aid in her hand. So, any other time you might have opened up to her, but you couldn't force yourself to tell her.

You look past her and at Christian. "I'm sorry," you mouth your apology.

"Just..." He lets out a sigh, watching you slip away, the end of the dress bunched in your hands so you wouldn't trip over it as you made your sudden escape. "Just let her go, Mom," Christian mumbles, the stinging in his cheek subsiding, making it easier for him to move his jaw. He knew deep down he deserved that slap. If his goading hadn't done enough to provoke a reaction from Ty, he should've guessed that it might've come from you instead. He casts his eyes down at the ground as he straightens up. "I don't want to talk about it-"

"You don't get a choice," Kelley stops him. There was a sternness to her voice that made him shiver. It was the kind she saved only for when she was disappointed in him. "Well?" He finally looks up but quickly looks away again when he isn't met with the usual warmth of her eyes. "Start talking, Christian, before I go and ask the poor girl myself."

"She and Ty broke up," he raises his shoulder on one side.

She raised her eyebrows, sensing there was more he wasn't telling her. "She slapped you because Ty and her broke up?"

"No, Mom, she slapped me because I asked her to," he replies, stuffing one hand into his pocket. At any other time, he would've been on the receiving end of a look of disapproval for using sarcasm against her, but Kelley just sighed. "Ty," he thinks carefully about his words, wanting to tell her the truth without admitting his own sins, "Ty found out she was sleeping with someone behind his back."

Kelley blinked twice. You were having an affair? The very same girl who was too afraid to get in trouble at school? The girl who did everything to keep her grades above a B? The one everyone said had a heart of gold? She didn't believe it. There was no way you could've done something as heartless as this. "An affair?" She shakes her head. "I don't believe you. Not Y/N."

He scrunches his face. "Why, because she's so perfect?" He rolls his eyes at the ground. "Not everyone is as perfect as you might think, Mom, not even me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Really?" He looks in her direction, greeted by a look of mixed emotions on her face. He didn't want to insult her intelligence, but it only took the smallest amount of common sense to figure out what possible role he had to play in all of this. "Doesn't a part of you wonder why I was out here? How I came to be the only other person to see it happen?"

As the pieces of the puzzle slowly clicked together, she could only show her disappointment in her eyes and through the way she spoke. "Christian..."

"What, Mom? What?" He takes a step back, removing himself from her path. His heart was racing rapidly in his chest, the blood pumping hard and thick in his ears. The air around him felt thicker like it was trying to suffocate him. "What do you want me to say?" He loosened his tie, pulling on the knot until he felt like he could breathe again. What was happening to me? He thought to himself, wiping his sweaty palm down his thigh. "That I regret it because I don't."

"How can you say that?" She asks, bewildered by his reaction. "How do you not regret what you've done? You've destroyed a relationship, Christian!"

"It wasn't just me, Mom; she destroyed it too!" He pulls his tie off, wrapping the slim black piece of material around his fingers. "I...She..." The tips of his fingers slowly change colour as he tightens his tie. "Maybe it would be different if she loved the guy, but she didn't. She's just another liar." He sighs, glancing up at the roof of the gazebo. "We both are."

"Do you love her?"

Yes.

"Love her?" He unravels the tie before it cuts the circulation to his fingers and switches to wrapping it around the other. He scoffs to hide the quiver in his voice. "Why would I love her?"

"Because I can't think of a good reason for why you could do something so stupid, Christian," she scolds him, lifting her hand into the air like she was signalling an end to their conversation. She couldn't bare to hear him talk this way anymore. This wasn't the boy she had raised. "If any part of you loves that girl-"

"I don't."

I do.

She holds his head firmly in her hands, keeping his eyes on hers. In his eyes, she sees the truth. She sees the fear. She sees it all. "Just shut up and listen," he gulps down a large breath of air, subtly nodding his head, "if any part of you loves that girl, then you need to fix this."

"I can't fix it," he chews his bottom lip, "she won't believe me."

"You won't know unless you try," she offers a watery smile, "if you don't fix this, then you'll lose her for good, and that's when you'll finally regret it." She wipes away a tear he didn't even know was there. "Go," she encourages him, "before it's too late."

———————

All traces of Ty had been removed from your room when you returned. A note saying, "I'm sorry I wasn't enough," was all that was left for you to find. It brought a fresh wave of tears crashing down your cheeks, and through watery eyes, you tore yourself out of your dress and packed your bag. You could apologise to your sister later, maybe even tell her the truth and risk her judging you for your heartless mistakes, but right now, you had to leave.

Pulling on the zip, you close your bag and set it down at the foot of your bed. You ignored the first knock as you checked the contents of your second bag, checking to make sure you had packed the things you would need the most, like your passport. You couldn't run away without it. But the second and then the third knock became harder to ignore, and the courage you had built up in the process of getting ready to leave crumbled when you opened the door to find Christian standing on the other side.

"Whatever you're doing, don't do it." There's no apology, no simple hello, just another demand to do something that he wanted. You take a step back, and he mistakes it for an invitation to come inside. He walks by the foot of your bed, and the thought of you sharing it with Ty tightens his chest. "Stay," he says, his words almost sounding like a plea.

"I can't stay-'

"Yes, you can!" He talks over you, trying to force his side of the argument. "You and Ty are over, so what?" You gasp at his insensitivity. "Why should that mean we have to stop having fun?"

"Fun?" You repeat back to him. The pain simmering in the pit of your stomach forces your voice to crack. "It was 'fun' for the first few times it happened, but then it just became something you could torture me with." The corners of your eyes grow wet with new tears. "As soon as you knew that there was a chance that I had developed an attachment to you, you twisted it to your own advantage. You knew I would never say no to you, but here I am, finally telling you no."

"I can't let you go," he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief.

You chew your bottom lip. The only way you could move on from this is if you let him go. "You have to," you sniffle, wiping your eyes. He wasn't worth anymore of your tears.

"But I...But I..." He tries to force the truth, but his throat grows dry, and only a strangled cry of frustration makes its way out. "I don't want this to be over for us. I thought you loved me?"

"I do," your heart shatters as his eyes fill with tears, and you have to force yourself into not moving, "I love you more than you could ever know, but I can't love a guy who doesn't love me back. My heart is damaged, Chris, and I don't know what state you'll leave it in when you've decided it's time to move on. I have accepted that you will never love me! I have accepted that there will be no happy ending for us! That our love story is a tragedy Shakespeare wishes he could've penned. So, please, do the honourable thing and let me go!"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I love you!" He snaps, with every ounce of emotion bursting out of his chest, shouting his confession across the room. The features on his face soften. His puffy eyes swell with giant tears. His bottom lip trembles. "I love you," he repeats, and you're stunned into silence. His voice cracks and fresh tears wet his cheeks, no longer having the strength to fight them back. "I've tried my hardest not to love you. I have slept with other women to make myself forget about you, but they are not you. Their skin doesn't feel as soft as yours. They don't taste as sweet as you. They are not the angel whose name my very soul calls for! Their names are not tattooed on the inner walls of my heart!"

He draws his hands against the centre of his chest, digging his fingers into his flesh like he was trying to rip his heart from the cage it was once locked inside. "Do you not see how I am scared to let my heart win?" He hopelessly cries out, tasting the saltiness of his tears as they land on his lips, "I am scared because I already know that I have the power to harm you." He takes a step back, dropping his arms either side. "I have harmed you." His voice is laced with guilt. "I have broken your heart time and time again, and yet you stand here and tell me you still love me? How? Why?"

You shrug your shoulders. "Maybe this is how love is supposed to be."

"I don't know much about love, but I know it's never meant to be this cruel," he replies, disagreeing with you, "you love a monster, Y/N."

"A monster?" You scoff and he nods. "If you are a monster then what does that make me, Christian? All you did was sleep with another man's girlfriend. I lied to him. I took advantage of him. For nearly two years, I made him believe that I loved him. Two years! Two fucking years!" You force yourself to laugh, but it's empty and lacks any genuine emotion. "My heart must either be as black as charcoal or as cold as ice to be capable enough of doing that to someone whose heart is filled with nothing but pure love."

Through the crack in the opened window, you could hear the muffled sound of laughter and cheers. A pang of guilt settles in your chest knowing that you had missed your sister's first dance and the cutting of the cake. You had missed the chaos of your baby cousins running around, high on sugar, and your parents' terrible dancing. You had missed jokes and the opportunities to create new memories. You had missed it all just so you could try and find a solution to the destruction that you were to blame for.

You suck in a deep breath. "I was just going to leave, you know," you tell him the truth, nudging your foot against the side of your bag, "get a cab to the airport and get the first flight available to, I don't know, Greece or Italy. Filling myself up with good food and flooding my veins with multiple bottles of good wine seemed like the better idea. I was going to run away from it all: from the heartbreak, from Ty, from my family-"

"From me," Christian mumbles, with fresh tears in his eyes. You blink back tears as you nod your head, confirming his suspicion. For a split second, he smiles, but it's lopped-sided and sad. He sniffles and wipes his cheeks. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "what do you want to do?"

"Right now, I just want to kiss you."

A bubble of hope formed in his chest as he watched your face crumple. The look of pain in your eyes slowly became one of affection, making his blood buzz with nerves. He could've closed the distance between you, sweep you up into his arms and kiss you like he had never kissed anyone before, but he didn't. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath, and waited for you to give him a sign.

You knew you might one day regret this.

"So kiss me."

Without hesitation, he closes the gap between you, fisting his hand in the back of your hair, and grabbing your hip in the other to pull you towards him. Both of you sink into each other as his mouth worked yours. His kisses were needy and demanding like he was starving for you, and the groan he let out as his tongue moved against yours left every nerve ending in your body ablaze with burning pleasure. He tasted you again and again until both of you were breathless and your head was spinning.

"I'm sorry," he apologises between kisses, murmuring it against your lips, "before this, before us, you were happy with Ty, but I was a selfish bastard and I tried to have something that wasn't mine. I ruined your chance at true happiness, so I understand if you can't forgive me." His hand that had been fisted in your hair lowered to your face, cradling your cheek, as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours. He wanted to remember this moment, in case it was his last. "I just need you to know that I am sorry for every bit of pain that I have caused you."

"You're right," you hum, looping your arms around his neck, "in the beginning, I was happy, but I was just...happy enough." He makes a humming sound as you massage your fingers against the base of his neck. You study the flecks of amber in his eyes, picturing a version of your life where you could wake up to them every morning, whispering, "but I was always at my happiest when I was with you."

"Me?"

You let out a surprised laugh and step further into his space. His mouth is so close to yours, only inches away, and with one finger, you trace it along his bottom lip. His eyes fall shut at your touch and you listen to the hum he makes with a small smile. Tonight you had gotten to see a whole new side to him, one that was softer and not afraid to be vulnerable with his feelings. A side to him you had only ever dreamt about.

"Do you really love me?" You ask, with your lips hovering below his.

"Yes," he answers, hooking his fingers under your chin, pulling your mouth against his, and kissing you soft and slow. He smiles against you as he runs his hand down the front of your body, his fingers brushing gently over your breast. "Why don't you let me show you how much I love you?" He talks against your mouth, pressing his hand firmly against your body, caressing you through your top. His lips trail open-mouthed kisses along your neck, following the path he had created earlier.

You press your hand against his shoulder and push him away. "Not tonight," you tell him, seeing the worry in his eyes, "I believe, even if I shouldn't." Removing his hand from your chest, you bring the inside of his wrist against your lips. The soft kiss against his skin makes his heart stutter. "But I don't want us to have sex tonight."

"No sex, okay," he nods, pecking your lips, "then what do you want?"

"I want room service, one of those crappy romantic comedies you like," you giggle as he mumbles under his breath about them not being 'crappy,' "and to fall asleep with my head on your chest, if that's okay with you?"

He cradles your face and brushes his thumb along your cheek. "And then tomorrow we're going to Italy."

"Italy?"

"Yes," he hums, skimming his thumb along your smile, "you said you wanted to run away, so let's do it together." He brings you closer and whispers, "I love you," before kissing you.

———————

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