#she’s just the type who seems feral enough

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— a study in demon

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up

summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?

word count: 4.5k

a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy

The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.

You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.

Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.

You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.

Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.

You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.

It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.

The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.

Just like her.

You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.

Smells just like her, too.

Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.

That should get you through the day, you think.

And it does. For the first half of it, at least.

You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.

It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.

You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.

You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.

An omega who is in heat.

You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.

You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.

As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.

“Hey, uh...”

It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.

“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”

“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”

It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.

The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”

The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.

“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”

She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.

The same one you’ve felt in class.

The omega in heat.

Fuck.

The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.

She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.

“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”

You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.

“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”

You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.

An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.

You feel like you’re going to puke.

“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”

Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.

You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.

She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.

With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.

enid

bro you gotta ditch

it’s an emergency

i just stumbled into a girl

uhh dina?

she’s from ophelia hall

anyways i think she needs… help

yk

from a fellow omega wolf

i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants

for some fucking reason

and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress

but i really had to dip

i was doing her a favor by dipping actually

i locked her up on the 2nd floor

202

i really had to leave

Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.

The device dingles in your hands.

oooohh

its okay

i gotchu

u should totes find weds tho

im sure she can help u out ;))

You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.

Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.

As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.

You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.

And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.

Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.

The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.

Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.

“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”

Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.

“Is something wrong?”

Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.

She wants you to say it.

You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m…”

Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.

“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.

Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”

Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?

Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.

“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”

Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”

You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.

Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.

“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”

The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.

“Come here.”

You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”

You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”

You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.

The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.

“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”

You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.

“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”

Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.

Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.

You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.

“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.

Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous –  Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.

That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.

Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips –  the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.

If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.

And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.

Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.

That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.

Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.

“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”

You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.

“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.

She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.

Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.

“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.

You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.

The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.

Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.

A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.

“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”

“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.

“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”

Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.

“Answer me.”

“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”

“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”

A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.

In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.

Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.

As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.

Hers. No one else’s.

Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.

“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”

The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.

The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.

The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.

But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.

“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”

You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.

Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.

You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.

“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.

Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.

Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.

“I have my ways.”

You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”

“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.

You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.

“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”

“Wednesday.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #wednesday addams smut #wednesday x reader #wednesday x reader smut #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine #wednesday x female reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wlw smut

[just-null-cult]

your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos

IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.

I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.

MERRY OCTOBER YALL

[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]

[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]

OKAY LETS GO.

Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..

But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.

Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.

That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.

Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.

He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?

Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.

Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.

Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.

Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.

Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”

You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.

The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.

It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.

The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...

Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.

And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.

If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.

He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!

Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!

#kamo noritoshi #kamo noritoshi x reader #yandere kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi kamo x reader #yandere noritoshi kamo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #i love the energy #the enthusiasm you have is a beautiful thing to see in someone #i also love yandere noritoshi #personally i like softer yanderes that wouldn't intentionally do harm to their darling #even then i doubt noritoshi would even hurt his darling at all #I WROTE SO FUCKING MUCH #RHHRJFG I WANT TO SAY MORE BUT ILL SAVE IT FOR FUTURE POSTS. #I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE THIS WASN'T JUST ME CURSING AND KEYBAORD MSASHING #yan noritoshi is also not above stalking. sending love letters. studying you. and all those definate green flags #WHY CANT I SHUT THE FUCK UP #ITS BC THIS TOPIC ENTERTAINS ME #TY ANON FOR BRINGING IT UP #SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIEND LET ME TALK ABOUT THIS AND BOUNCED IDEAS BACK AND FORTH WITH ME THAT ONE TIME #I LOVE YOU FOREVER #now im not saying that every noritoshi in my entire blog is supposed to be seen as still yan noritoshi.. but if you were to think that. #i wouldnt deny it #yanderes arent insane all the time.. so think the cute stuff he does to be the dere... i need to draw the yan more often.. we'll get there. #and if youre wondering #NGL I ATE ON THIS DRAWING. FUCK. IT CAUSE MY PC TO FREEZE SO MANY TIMES BUT THE WORLD HAS TO KNOW ABT YAN NORITOSHI

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part Eight)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Daddy Issues

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Later in the evening, you arrived at Cillian's and Danielle's holiday house in Cork with your parents. You all sat down, grieving, while Danielle opened a bottle of wine, offering it to everyone. You sat down with the group, sipping the smooth, dark red liquid as it slid down your throat. Conversation flowed easily, topics shifting from the funeral earlier that day to lighter subjects like movies and travel. But inevitably and unbeknownst to everyone else, your thoughts kept returning to the intimate moments you shared with Cillian.

Your mother, Sarah, seemed focused on the work messages that popped up on her phone, her attention drawn to the task at hand. Danielle, too, was lost in conversation with your stepfather Frank who appeared to be rather annoyed by his brother's wife's continuous antics. The air between them was dense and yet, the room hummed with conversation while a sense of unease hung in the air, subtle enough to go unnoticed by most, yet ever present to those who cared to notice.

Cillian often smiled at you in a way that was hardly appropriate, giving you a knowing look. It was as if he wanted you to know that you would always belong to him, regardless of whether it was behind closed doors or not. This thought brought a flush of both pride and embarrassment, causing you to look away, pretending to engage in conversation with the others.

Danielle glanced around the room occasionally, her eyes searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. She was oblivious to the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface, unaware of the bond between Cillian and you. And yet, she knew that something was up. Her husband was cheating again, and she needed to know who with.

There was no doubt about it now, but she didn't have concrete evidence, nor would she have expected you to be the one he was with.

The connection between you and Cillian was so subtle that nobody but you would recognize it and you even went as far as to pick up the phone and text him while he was sitting right across from you.

The rest of the company in the room did not suspect anything amiss; they only observed that you were slightly preoccupied.

"This suit you are wearing looks divine," you wrote to Cillian while looking around nervously, trying to divert any suspicion. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment before taking a sip of his wine.

After a second or two, he typed up a response while ensuring that Danielle did not notice what he was doing.

"So is your dress and the fact that I know that you are not wearing any underwear beneath it now makes it even more appealing," came the reply which ultimately made you blush.

You looked around the room once more, satisfied that nobody noticed your exchange with Cillian before texting him again.

Feeling a bit anxious while texting, you stole another glance at Cillian, observing the play of emotion across his face – desire mixed with calculation. It made you realize just how much power he held over you. He understood exactly what buttons to push to get you where he wanted you.

"Will I get to spend some more time with you after everyone goes to sleep?" you texted back, suppressing a smile as you waited for his answer.

Cillian's thumbs flew over his phone, conveying his agreement in mere seconds.

"Absolutely. I will sneak into your bedroom after my wife has fallen asleep," Cillian wrote back, grinning ferally.

You felt a thrill course through your body at the thought of being alone with him again and of having him inside you while his very own wife was asleep next door.

"And what will you do to me after you sneak into my bedroom?" you flirtatiously teased, letting the excitement show clearly in your eyes.

Cillian grinned broadly when he read your message.

"First, I will lick that cum from earlier out of your pussy," he replied suggestively, running his tongue seductively along his bottom lip and your skin prickled with awareness as the image of him doing that to you.

"And then, I will put my cock back inside you and fuck you till you can't walk straight tomorrow," Cillian continued to text, making your stomach somersault with anticipation.

You gasped enthusiastically, already wet and excited just thinking about his words just as your mother Sarah spoke up, telling you to get of your phone.

You quickly turned off your cellphone and nodded at your mom as she handed you a glass of wine. As soon as you got the chance, you picked up your mobile again, typing another steamy message to Cillian.

"Are you serious?! Are you really going to come into my room tonight??!" You pressed send and immediately looked around the room to make sure none of the adults could see what you were doing. However, there was still a part of you that craved the risky element of potentially getting caught.

Without missing a beat, Cillian answered your question.

"Yes, baby. I will slip into your room, undetected, and ravish you for hours." He let out a low laugh, watching as you squirmed in your seat. His smirk said it all - that he had you hooked, completely under his control. No matter how wrong it might seem, you found yourself desiring him even more than you had before.

"You are on your phone again," your mother suddenly pointed out before apologising to everyone else in the room. "Y/N is seeing someone I think," Sarah then mentioned casually in her drunken kind of state.

You winced slightly, realizing that your cover may be blown and began to blush.

"Mum, please," you pleaded while Cillian put away his phone and smiled.

"Oh yeah?" he asked teasingly, causing you to cringe. "Who is the lucky guy?" he wanted to know while everyone watched intently.

Feeling cornered, you hesitated briefly before deciding to play it cool. "Just someone from school," you stated nonchalantly, trying to maintain your composure despite your racing heart.

"She won't tell us, but that's okay," your mother told the others, laughing lightly.

"Yes, because it is nothing serious," you told your mother while Cillian furrowed his eyebrows. 

"You know what? I should introduce to the son of our new neighbors one day. His name is Max and he is rather good looking. He is 22 and studies law at Trinity," Danielle then suggested, catching everybody's attention including yours. "What do you mean by 'rather good looking', Danielle?" Sarah queried, intrigued.

"Well, he's tall, athletic, with lovely green eyes...the type that would make anybody stop and take a second look," Danielle elaborated further, painting a vivid picture in everyone's minds except yours.

"Maybe we could set something up?" Sarah offered jokingly, showing interest in playing matchmaker for you just as Cillian jumped in.

"I don't think he is that good looking Danielle. Despite, he is a little arrogant, wouldn't you say?" Cillian remarked, raising his brow at Danielle as he took a drink of his wine.

"He seems charming enough, Cillian," Danielle commented casually while Cillian shook his head.

"I am sure Y/N can do better than Max O'Connor," Cillian told his wife, sending a wink your way and you realized that there may have been a hint of jealousy in this voice.

Cillian did not seem to like the idea of you potentially seeing anybody else besides him. Even if that wasn't necessarily true in reality, the situation provided fertile ground for drama and conflict.

Meanwhile, Danielle ignored the comment and carried on changing the topic to discuss various legal matters related to the death of their mutual aunt. All throughout these proceedings, your mind constantly drifted back to Cillian and your impending rendezvous.

As the hours passed, the party finally started breaking up, leaving everyone exhausted. Everyone retired to their respective rooms, signaling the end of social interactions for the night.

Soon after you retreated to your room, the house grew quiet save for occasional creaks coming from the floorboards. Your heart raced with anticipation as you slipped out of your clothes and put on a thin silk nightgown that hugged your curves seductively.

You then settled on the bed with a book and began to read to kill time, knowing full well that you weren't actually interested in reading. Instead, your gaze kept wandering to the clock ticking softly beside your bed. The silence within the room seemed deafening, amplifying every sound. It appeared as though time stood still as you anxiously awaited his arrival.

Finally, the moment arrived. Quiet footsteps echoed down the hallway, and you instinctively recognized those steps as belonging to Cillian. As he approached your room, his breathing quickened, betraying his mounting excitement.

With silent precision, he entered your room, shutting the door behind him without making a single noise. The sight of Cillian standing in the dim moonlight sent shivers down your spine, as he stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of black Calvin Kleins.

His skin glistened lightly with sweat, highlighting his slender but toned physique. Your breath hitched involuntarily, your heartbeat escalating rapidly. This man knew exactly how to ignite fire within you. Inhaling sharply, he moved closer towards your bed, his intent clear.

"Danielle is asleep, but we need to be quiet," he said after he reached the bed and, with a swift motion, Cillian pulled your nightgown over your head, exposing your naked form beneath him.

Desire coursed through your veins as he traced lazy circles along your chest with his fingers, eliciting tiny moans from your lips.

"I will try my best to be quiet for you, Cillian," you whispered, reaching up to run your hands through his hair affectionately. His touch left trails of electric sensations wherever they touched your skin. It was hard to believe this was happening right now, so close to everyone else in the house, yet feeling so incredibly private and forbidden.

"Good girl," Cillian murmured against your neck, giving it a gentle bite. You shivered at his teeth grazing your skin, the eroticism almost too much to bear.

"Now spread your legs wide for me and let me eat you out," Cillian instructed huskily, his mouth dangerously close to your earlobe. His hot breath against your sensitive flesh heightened your desire, urging you to comply instantly. You obeyed, spreading your thighs wide open, presenting yourself vulnerably for him.

The mattress dipped as Cillian lowered himself onto the bed, positioning himself perfectly to taste your sweet nectar as well as his own as, just a few hours earlier, he came inside your pussy. 

"Fuck, you are so wet and full of my cum," he exclaimed, appreciatively taking in the view as his fingers parted your labia. "I can't wait to taste you," he added with a grin, leaning in to press his face against your cleft.

Your heart skipped a beat as he slowly ran his tongue across your folds, savoring the tanginess that mixed with his flavor. Each pass made you feel wanton and depraved, wanting more of his skilled ministrations.

"Oh god, please," you moaned before covering your own mouth with both of your hands, trying to suppress the noises escaping you. The sounds emitting from deep within you confirmed his prowess and skill. But most importantly, the raw passion and lust filling the air intensified the experience, drawing both you and Cillian deeper into this illicit encounter.

"We taste fucking perfect together," Cillian groaned as his tongue entered your wetness once more, driving you wild with pleasure. He then suckled upon your clit, bringing you closer and closer to climax. Your body trembled violently, unable to contain its release any longer. With every thrust of his tongue, another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you utterly powerless against his expertise.

At long last, an earthshattering orgasm ripped through your entire being, nearly knocking you off the bed.

You tried to suppress your screams and moans, knowing that Cillian's wife was asleep next door, but it proved futile. The intensity of your climax coupled with Cillian's masterful manipulation pushed you beyond all reason. Your insatiable hunger for his touch consumed you entirely, transforming your senses and Cillian stopped quickly to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Ssshh, you need to be quiet," he cautioned tenderly, kissing your forehead delicately before pulling away, recomposing himself. However, his gaze remained hungry and predatory, making your heart race even faster.

"I am sorry. I will try harder," you reassured him while Cillian slowly positioned himself between your legs.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly, running his thumb over your smooth skin. Your nipples hardened under his touch, aching for more contact.

"Now spread your legs a bit more for me and let me fuck that sweet little pussy of yours full of cum," Cillian commanded, his tone dark and demanding. Without hesitation, you obeyed his command, opening your legs wider to grant him better access.

"No, wait..." you began to say as Cillian positioned himself and guided his erection toward your entrance, teasing the tip around your wet entrance until you were both desperate for penetration.

"You need to pull out before you cum. I left my pill at home, so I didn't take any tonight. It should be fine, but just in case, you should not cum inside me again tonight," you warned him and Cillian nodded reluctantly before, inch by agonizing inch, he pressed forward, allowing only the smallest portion of his cock to enter you initially. Your muscles squeezed tightly around him, welcoming him inside your warmth.

"I will just have to cum in your mouth then when I am done fucking you," Cillian growled possessively, claiming ownership over your body. He proceeded to start thrusting into you, starting with shallow movements that built into harder ones as he got lost in the rhythm. Your moans and gasps filled the space, creating a symphony of pleasure that reverberated between the two of you.

Each powerful stroke brought him deeper inside you, causing both of you to lose control, surrendering completely to the primal nature of your connection.

"You feel absolutely amazing. So warm and tight. And I love how greedy you are," Cillian praised as he continued thrusting into you with forceful strokes. Your body trembled underneath him, your walls contracting repeatedly around his member.

He held your head firmly, pinning you to the bed as he spoke harshly, "you are mine to fuck, just mine!"

 His words stung like a whip, reminding you both of whose body you belonged to during this tryst.

"I am yours to fuck, Cillian!" you cried out, losing yourself completely in the act. Caught up in the heat of the moment, neither of you could hold back anymore.

"I am close," you told him fiercely, pressing your lips to his neck as your eyes closed, feeling his strength flow through you.

Cillian responded with fervor, speeding up his pace dramatically, rocking your world with each plunge of his length inside you.

"Yes! That's it! Good girl! Take my cock!" Cillian commanded, sealing his lips around yours with a fierce, dominating kiss that left you both craving more. His large hands gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place while he continued thrusting into you with such force that you found yourself unable to speak coherently. All thought processes ceased as the pure physical sensation took complete control over your mind and body. Every movement he made felt electrically charged, sending shock waves throughout your system.

As Cillian pounded into you with increased vigor, the bed shifted beneath your weight, hitting the wall multiple times until, finally, you came, hard and fast.

As the euphoria hit you, time seemed to stand still - and then everything rushed back in one tumultuous torrent of sensation. Forcing your way past your limit, you met Cillian's gaze with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. The look he gave you, however, suggested something different altogether – he wanted to make you cry out for him. With one final forceful push, he claimed victory over your body. You screamed, the sound muffling slightly against his palm.

Still, there was enough noise to alert someone nearby and, as soon as you had peaked, Cillian struggled to contain himself any longer.

Without warning, he pulled out and released his seed all over your belly button, watching intently as the sticky substance dripped downwards on to the sheets.

"Fuck you look so hot, covered in my cum," he growled, tracing his finger along the path it took before collecting some of it and bringing it up to your mouth.  Reluctantly, you opened your lips, allowing him to feed you his essence. As you swallowed, the bitter yet enticing liquid combined with the salty residue of arousal and sweat sent shivers racing through your veins. This marked a turning point between you two, blurring lines and reinforcing the bond of deceit that would consume you.

"That's good, isn't it?" he asked softly, his voice laced with both admiration and tenderness.

"So good, although I wish you could stay and sleep here, with me, tonight," you exclaimed, longing his closeness as, slowly and unbeknownst to him, you were developing feelings for him.

"You know that is not an option," he said dismissively, not looking directly at you as he got up. "I am married, remember? And if this wasn't bad enough already, my wife is asleep right next door," Cillian quipped lightly, avoiding direct eye contact with you, feeling guilty towards you as well as her.

"I know. It still would be nice to share another night like the one in the hotel," you admitted sheepishly, glancing sideways at him with a wry smile with was a suggestion to which Cillian agreed.

"I think that could be arranged when we are back in Dublin after this trip," he replied, smiling slightly. 

Your cheeks flushed red with excitement, hoping that day would come sooner rather than later.

Cillian reached down to the floor, reaching for his briefs and putting them back on. His eyes were lingering fondly on your face for a brief moment before he was walking towards the bed again and kissed you goodnight.

He turned off the lamp near the bedside table and exited the room quietly, shutting the door behind him with deliberate care. Leaving you alone, wrapped in his aftermath, savoring the memories of what just transpired between you two, the thrilling sensual interlude continuously playing on loop in your mind.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, especially Danielle, who slept oblivious in the adjacent room, you allowed these thoughts to become a constant companion, driving you wild in ways you never imagined possible as, slowly, but surely, you were falling in love with a much older married man, and you knew that this was a disaster to happen.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillianmurphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n

[littlefeltsparrow]

Please explain to me why the Inner Circle seems to think Nesta is some kind of feral mongoose.

They straight up act as if Nesta is 3 seconds away from killing them all. Aren’t you supposed to be a group of the most powerful individuals in Prythian? For a group of 500+ fairy warriors they sure act like cowering wimps when it comes to Nesta. Oh? You’re the most powerful high lord of all time and yet a depressed 25 year old who’s kinda bitchy threatens you? On what planet does Nesta pose a threat to the oh-so-noble inner circle?

You would see the way they react to Nesta and think she was some crazed annihilator who is habitually violent and unhinged and yet we’re never shown what led to this conclusion. If anything, they’re the ones who growl, hiss and intimidate her (looking at you Rhysand) when they so clearly are in a position of power over her. But if Nesta is even slightly angry at the way they treat her, they act as if Nesta just ordered a bomb threat.

Feyre even snapped at Rhysand after he made a jab at Nesta, telling him to not talk about her sister like she’s a feral animal. So that gives us some insight into how she’s viewed by the people around her and how she’s viewed by her sisters (who truly know her). Rhysand’s comments about Nesta manifest in the Inner Circle’s body language and implicit behaviours as well. During the intervention, Nesta strongly objects to being sent to the house of wind and they actually try to shield Feyre from her, anticipating that Nesta might attack her.

It’s enough to make you burst out laughing because, Nesta? NESTA?! You think Nesta is the type of person to lunge at her sister and attempt to physically harm her? That has NEVER been who Nesta is and it’s foolish to even think that it is. Even when the IC intentionally provokes her, Nesta never resorts to physical violence. Even when they are taking away her autonomy, she might’ve gotten angry, but she’s never demonstrated any kind outwardly aggressive behaviour. She’s not the one making threats, THEY ARE.

The most egregious detail of all is that the characters and the narrative act as though Nesta being a bitch is on par with the Inner Circle literally imprisoning her and coercing her into doing tasks for them. Not only do they exploit her, but they treat her terribly while doing so. Cassian will bully her, disregard her boundaries, force her to train, humiliate her and treat her callously and yet I’m supposed to think they’re equally bad to each other.

The worst Nesta can do is be mean to Cassian, the worst he can do is imprison her and control every aspect of her life.

#anti rhysand #pro nesta #sjm critical #anti sjm #nesta archeron #acotar #acosf thoughts #anti nessian #anti acosf

[strwbmei1]

I have been revived and I must say:

Silver Wolf also seems like the type of person to get a womb tattoo

Like she's just sitting there doing her Dailys and next thing she knows she's in front of a mirror being pounded and all she can feel is your hands gliding over where her ovaries are (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

Alternatively, Herta, who was curious about them, gave ones to her puppets, giving them an "extra she does not need", or so she says

She only gets one when she realises that her puppets, not her, are getting far more attention from you

Oh, she'll pout, but a little session of making her dumb on your knee will fix that right up (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Silverwolf's knuckles turning white from how she's holding onto the sides of the shaking mirror, voice weak and broken from how much she'd been screaming your name, her body being pushed forward with every thrust causing her nipples to rub against the cold glass... This situation was her fault, really. Not only did she go ahead and get a womb tattoo, she just had to flaunt it with such a revealing outfit. 'Feral' is a generous word to describe how you felt when you walked into Silverwolf's room and saw the tattoo for the first time— yet she acted like nothing change, not even looking in your direction when you entered the room with her eyes glued to her phone screen.

She can see herself get absolutely ruined in the reflection of the mirror; eyes rolling back, legs shaking, slick running down her thighs.. and most of all, the sinister grin you were wearing as you wrecked her. The sight was pornographic and she loved it. Getting a womb tattoo might've just been the best decision she's ever made and she'd be sure to show it off even more if it meant getting the fuck of her life.

Now, Herta on the other hand— only gave her puppet one because you seemed interested in the idea. She didn't expect you to pay the puppet more attention than you do her. It's just a stupid tattoo! Did it really have that much of an effect on you?

She'd get the answer to that question when you finally pin her down after all the times she's been such a whiny brat. When you saw that she actually got a tattoo once she saw how much you liked it; it was surprisingly cute.. but not enough to make up for her giving you the cold shoulder without saying anything. Make Herta hump your thigh and ruin it with her slick until she's really sorry. Hold her thighs down so she's grinding on yours like a bitch in heat and her moans break into desperate sobs. Bend her over your knees and make her count each time you slap her ass and start over when she gets it wrong. It's what Herta deserves.

#・❥・strwb drabbles #x reader #smut #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #herta hsr #herta honkai star rail #silverwolf hsr #silverwolf honkai star rail #herta #herta x reader #herta smut #silverwolf #silverwolf x reader #silverwolf smut

[prescottsgirl]

BEST FRIENDS COUSIN PT.2

part 1 here!

sidney prescott x fem!reader

summary: part two to best friend’s cousin. following the previous events, you and sidney have to sneak your little love affair around from jill.

warnings: age gap (sid’s 32, picturing reader can be 18-22), swearing, making out

note: was literally listening to i can see you - taylor swift on repeat while writing this so it’s completely inspired by that

You knocked on Sidney's bedroom door, knuckles trembling against the painted wood. You don't think you've stopped shaking since Sidney first kissed you hours prior. And you assumed that Jill could sense that something was off.

Sidney opened the door, expecting her younger cousin to be standing there, but being surprised by you; disheveled hair and clad in your silky pajamas.

She moved to the side, allowing enough room for you to slip in. She didn't need to ask why you were at her door, she was just glad that you were.

She shut her door and took a seat on her bed. She watched you standing there and noticed how attractive you look at night. With you shorts showing off your bare legs that you typically don't show, and your hazy eyes staring back at her.

Instead of saying everything that you wanted to; because there was just so much to discuss, you walked right up to her, straddling her lap and kissed her.

She wasn't mad at this; she was shocked at your sudden confidence. Sidney wrapped her arms around your lower waist, not wanting you to fall off of her. However, she eventually broke the kiss.

"Where's jill," she asked you.

"Sleeping."

Her eyebrow raised at you, that type of mom look coming out of her. "Shouldn't you be too?"

In honesty, she didn't want you to leave her. She wanted you all to herself. But she absolutely loves teasing you.

You rolled your eyes at the older woman, something you typically wouldn't do. "How do you expect me to sleep after earlier?"

She smirked at the remembrance of previous events. Sidney having such an effect on you like this only turned her on more. And seeing all that desire in her eyes made you absolutely feral.

Sidney couldn't help herself. She flipped you down onto her bed, now her being in a straddle position atop of your laid body. You were positive that Sid could hear your heart pounding out of your chest.

Warmth consumed you as Sidney leaned down into another kiss. You brought your fingers up to Sidney's deep brown hair, pushing her closer towards you. She lightly brushed her fingertips against your soft skin at your ribs, you shirt riding up to the extent that there was no point of it anymore. 

You elicited a whimper, being sensitive to every touch from her. She abruptly stop, pulling her lips away, but her face was still so close that her lips would brush against yours.

"Shh," she said and, oh so slowly, slid her thumb across your bottom lip, "you don't want my cousin to hear you, do you?" she spoke it as if she wanted you to continue making noise. as if she were trying to absolutely humiliate you.

You shook your head, seeming to have no trouble keeping contact with her dark eyes. "Good girl," she whispered, and instead of kissing your lips again, she placed a lingering one on your forehead, just to be a tease. "Now how about we get some sleep? Busy day tomorrow."

She winked at you. There was absolutely nothing planned for tomorrow, but you knew damn well that she had something in mind for you.

You huffed and she tossed herself next to you. You were both still out of breath. You were definitely not going to be able to fall asleep now.

You started to get up but we're pulled back down by your wrist. "You can stay here for a little bit. You know, just to calm down first."

Jill's going to wake up and notice. The smart part of knew that you should go back to Jill's room. Then again, you needed to spend every moment you could with Sidney, because who knew where all this was leading to. And it was only for a few minutes...it really couldn't hurt.

You laid back down and she pulled you into her arms, nestling you against her. She kissed you forehead again. You felt so loved. If only this didn't have to just be a big secret.

-

The next time you woke up, you were still in Sidney's arms, however, it wasn't dark anymore. The morning sun was shining through the curtains and your heart completely dropped.

You started shaking Sidney awake. You didn't even bother to check the time. You knew it was the morning and that Jill could already be awake. "Sidney, wake up," you whisper-yelled.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes "Sidney we fell asleep last night. Shit she's probably already awake!"

This certainly awoke Sidney. She sat up, wide-eyed. She was grown and didn’t need her cousin controlling who she’s with. But then again, she was just starting to get close with Jill and didn't want to fuck it up. She also really cared about you and didn't want to screw your friendship up either. 

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've been up to keep you awake."

"It's not your fault, Sid. It was my responsibility." You scrambled to get out of bed. It suddenly felt awfully cold without being cuddle up to her.

All of a sudden, there's a knock at the door. You and Sidney looked at each other, eyes bugging out of your head's "One second!" Sidney yells over to the door and started getting out of bed herself. "Go hide in the closet," she whispers to you.

You do as your told, squeezing right in. You can hear muffled talking outside of the door.

"Do you know where y/n is? I woke up about an hour ago and she was gone. She still hasn't came back."

"No I don't. Is her stuff still there?" You tried to hold back your laugh. Even through the nerves, it was a little attractive that Sidney was trying to act like you weren't just making out with her in her bed a few hours before.

"Yeah."

"Go check the downstairs bathroom. She might be there."

There was moments of silence and then, finally, Sidney shut her door. You jumped out of the closet and you both bursted into laughter. "You have about a minute to get back to Jill's room."

"Alright. See you at breakfast."

You headed towards the door, but again, you were stopped. She grabbed your waist and you collided onto her body. She kissed you on the lips, knowing that would completely fluster you when you had to get back to Jill. "See you then, pretty girl."

She winked at you and you fiercely blushed. You looked down to try and hide it, but she very clearly noticed.

-

"Okay where the fuck were you?" Jill asks when she walks in and sees you sitting completely innocently on her bed. You look up at her and try to push down your smirk. Something about sneaking around with Sidney only made you want her more.

"Bathroom. Where you were?"

"I was looking for you!"

You chuckled and shrugged, brushing the subject off. You knew Sidney was a much better lier than you. If this conversation continued, you were sure that Jill would see right through you.

"Whatever," Jill throws herself beside you on the bed. She didn't even notice that you didn't spend the night in her room? You were so grateful that she always sleeps through the night. "So what about Sidney last night?"

Your eyes nearly shot out of their sockets, "What?"

"Why did she want to talk to you about after she dragged us home?"

Oh.

"She was just told me that she was disappointed. You know, cause i'm usually not the type to break rules and sneak out." At least it wasn't a completely lie. You weren't lying to your best friends face, you just weren't telling her the entire story.

You could see the curiosity written all over Jill's face. She was about to question you, but she didn't get the chance. Her mother called you both down for breakfast. The universe certainly saved you there.

By the time you and Jill got downstairs, Sidney and Jill's mother were already sat down. Of course Jill made it so you were sat directly across from Sidney. She could tell you had a thing for her and she was just trying to mess with you.

Sidney looked up and lightly smiled at you. Only enough for you to realize it. "Good morning girls," Sidney said, not breaking the eye contact with you. She was completely fucking with you. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Good morning, Sidney," you said, in the same manner as her. She bit down on her bottom lip, enough to brush it off as biting her skin. Nobody was even looking, but she really didn't care either way. She was being very bold to say the least.

Throughout the entire breakfast, she kept sneaking glances at you. It wasn't until you were nearly finished that she reached under the table and rested her hand on your leg, gently squeezing your thigh. The seats were so close together that you hadn't even seen it coming.

You dropped you fork down onto your plate, causing the two others attention to be on you now. Sidney tried so hard to hold back a laugh. "S— sorry. My hand slipped."

She was not going to get away with this.

When everyone was finished, the older brunette called you over to help with the dishes. Jill's mother was on her way to go grocery shopping, and Jill herself went up to her room to get dressed for the day.

Finally, you were alone with her. Once again.

"Sidney, I cannot believe you." You weren't mad; she knew that. But you were so embarrassed that the redness had still yet to wash off your face.

"What did I do?" She played innocent as she washed the dishes in the sink. She didn't need you to actually help her with them, she just wanted to spend alone time with you.

"You are practically asking for us to be caught.”

"I didn't know you were going to be that sensitive to my touch, honey." You pouted at her, crossing your arms to your chest. She clicked her tongue, not satisfied with the fact that you were still upset. "Oh baby, please don't be mad. I'm sorry. It was killing me to not be able to reach out and touch you."

She slowly backed you against the counter, her body firmly pressed against yours. "You're so lucky that I can't be mad when you're so pretty,” you said to her.

She grinned at you, leaning down with the slight height difference, to kiss you. You moved back a little and she took this as a sign to stop. You wanted to kiss her so badly but this certainly wasn't the place.

"Woah woah, what if Jill see's us?"

"She won't, sweetie. She takes a million years to get dressed." She said, and you chuckled at her, staring down at her lips. "Can I kiss you again?" She was clearly as eager as you.

You simply nodded, but it was unnecessary as you just pulled her closer by the top of her tank top. Her hands rested on your lower waist, fingers twirling the hem of your shirt as her lips moved smoothly against yours.

You felt her cold hands slip under your shirt, lightly scratching at your stomach. You gasped against her mouth, the feeling making your stomach tighten. She slowly inched her hands up, brushing right over your breasts.

"Stop teasing so much," you muttered, but you weren't sure she even heard you. You could hardly even understand your own voice. You could feel her smirking against you, so she must've caught on.

She moved her hands back down to your waist, pushing you up onto the counter. She stood between your legs, her hands now gently squeezing your thighs. You whimpered at this.

“Oh my god," you heard. You weren't sure who's voice it was at first; you were completely in a daze and most definitely forgot your own name at that point. It wasn't until Sidney pulled away and turned around that you realized it at least wasn't her. "You're fucking my cousin?"

Your eyes adjusted to your best friend standing at the doorway of the kitchen, mouth wide open. You couldn't really distinguish how she felt about this by her expression.

"Jill," you hastily said, jumping off the counter. Sidney just stood there in utter shock. She's witnessed a lot in her life, but this was something that she couldn't have ever predicted.

You walked over to Jill. Luckily, she didn't back away from you. You think she was, just like Sidney, too in shock to even move. "Jill, please don't be mad at us."

And that was all you could really say. What were you supposed to say?

"I'm not mad that you're fucking her—"

"We weren't— Y/n and I weren't—" Sidney chimed in from across the kitchen, sighing and giving up when she realized that this was not the type of conversation that she wanted to have with Jill.

"Whatever. I'm not mad that you were making out with her on my kitchen counter. I mad that you didn't tell me this!" She truly didn't even sound angry. You knew that she always wanted you to get with Sidney because of the way you look at her. As much as she was going to be sick after walking in on it, she was happy for you.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to hate me."

"As long as me walking in on this isn't a natural occurrence then I won't hate you." She crossed her arms to her chest, rolling her eyes and trying to bite back a snarky smile. "I’ll let you two finish whatever that was. But next time, I'd prefer it to not be where I eat dinner."

Jill walked out, heading back up the stairs. You turned around on your heels, finding that Sidney looked as flushed and dumbfounded as you.

“So…” you walked back over to her, pulling her closer by the belt loop of her jeans. She smirked down at you, quickly understanding what you were getting at. “Maybe we should continue whatever that was.”

#sidney prescott #neve campbell #scream #scream 2 #scream 3 #scream 4 #scream 5 #wlw #sidney prescott x reader #neve campbell x reader #lesbian #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #sidney prescott fanfic

[muzansfangs]

Hello! I am new to the demon slayer fandom but I just finished up season 3 so far and I am in love with Douma!

Could I possibly request headcanons on what he would like in a partner, like personality wise? I know he’s clinically apathetic and the only time he felt something was with shinobu, so he’s capable of it! But what would his partner be like to make him feel the same way? To make him love and care for them?

Preferably a demon reader if ya don’t mind!

If you don’t feel comfortable writing that that’s totally fine!! Thank you!!

What Douma seeks in a partner.

Starring: Douma x f!reader (both human and demon).

Warnings: none, basically fluff and a little innuendo to sex, because it’s Douma we are talking about.

Format: head canons

Plot: what does Douma seeks in a partner? What peculiar traits she posses that pique his interest? Are there any differences between a demon s/o and a human s/o?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

If you are a demon…

• Douma is probably attracted to you for your physical appearence, at first. He is a simple man from that point of view: he likes you, he is going to get you. Obviously, his lack of emotions and empathy are going to make things hard, especially since you would struggle to grasp whatever is crossing his mind, or understand the meaning of his actions. The only hint you would be able to take is his clinginess. He becomes your shadow. Wherever you are, he is.

• Douma would not mind it if his partner was weaker than him. Actually, there is an high possibility that you cannot keep up with him. He possesses the rank of Upper Moon Two, after all. This might grant him the chance to protect you and, consequentially, to make him show you that he genuinely cares for you.

• When it comes to the kind of personality he would adore to find in his partner, Douma would seek devotion and respect. He is used to be worshipped as a living god. He is well-educated too, which means he would probably enjoy long conversations about philosophical and mystical concepts, especially regarding the meaning life. Two immortal beings could easily indulge in such topics. Despite being goofy, even around Lord Muzan, he is the type of guy who could easily focus his attention on you and display a vast knowledge on various subjects.

• If Douma finds his perfect match, he would probably open up about his inability to feel emotions and understand feelings. Therefore, if he feels comfortable around you, he will have no troubles in expressing his doubts and questions about sensations, behaviors and reactions he cannot comprehend. What he indeed seeks in a partner is acceptance.

• Since his significant other is a demon too, he would have no troubles in letting you join him during his meals. He knows that a demon cannot be horrified by the act of eating human flesh. He would not mind if you were a ferocious, greedy demon as well. If you cannot seem to get enough, he would probably spoil you by giving you the full access to his followers in the Temple. His cheerful nature would probably make him say something among the lines of “Please, darling, choose your next meal! They are all quite tasty!”.

• If you loved to mess around like him, that would mean stepping into a real Paradise for him. Testing other demons’s patience? Annoying Akaza? If you even suggested him something like that, he would probably turn you into the divinity worshipped into his Cult.

• Sometimes, he might not understand why you seem to be so rough towards the slayers trying to kill you. He is not only an Upper Moon, but the second strongest demon after Muzan. This and his natural predisposition for being apathetic lead him not to take most of his battles seriously. On the other hand, you are feral and your instinct makes you want to end your battles quickly, most likely in a bloodbath, because you truly risk your neck. However, this is not a problem. Douma likes this wicked part of you.

• The fact that he does not need to really watch over you because your demonic nature grants you some indipendence is quite fine for him. He wants you to rely on him, sure, but he does not mind you taking care of your business on your own. He likes your determination.

• The fact that you are a demon means that you are not completely submissive by nature. The slightest hint of defiance and dominace, especially in the privacy of your chambers, is appreciated.

If you are a human…

• Douma does not mind your mortality. Once again, this man sees the beauty in your features before anything else. Your fragility makes you look so lovely and delicate in his eyes. He would have constant need to have you around him, to watch over you and make sure you do not get hurt. You are like a little gem to be treasured and he knows how to keep you safe from people that are not him. He needs and wants to be the only danger in your life.

• His human significant other has be devoted, as previously mentioned, but he wants her to be kind and generous above anything else. The innocence in her eyes would kind of tickle something into his dull, apathetic heart. He would seek her attention, her touch and, sometimes, simply her presence. He could spend hours contemplating you.

• His ideal partner should somehow be dependant on him. He would not mind taking care of her and he believes actions can be a tangible, unconfutable proof of his love for you. He does not struggle at all in dedicating his existence to find the most romantic words to whisper in his lover’s ear, but he conscious about the fact that they might sound a tad too much saccharine, coming from someone as emotionless as him.

• If his darling is grateful for what he does for her, he would feel like the luckiest man alive. He would seek acceptance from his lover. If you want to stay by his side, and do not end up like his former potential love interests, then you should learn to live with the fact that he is a demon. If you do, he might be kind enough not to slaughter and consume his followers in front of you. Show him gratitude and love and he will make you his queen.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! It looks like I have finally been able to fulfill a request! I am so sorry for the delay, but inspiration comes and goes. I will try to take care of the requests waiting in my inbox and being gradually covered by dust, lmao. I hope you enjoy this, dear anon. Likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @doumadono @doumaslotus @koyuki-the-flower @mrskokushibo my lovely mutuals and Douma’s simps❤️

#douma x reader #douma x you #douma x y/n #demon slayer douma #douma imagine #douma kny #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #douma #upper moon two

[mariamariquinha]

tear you apart - Dave York x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: You were his assistant. You had a crush on him. Classic.

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings: Bad words, p in v, unprotected sex, slight mention of abusive coworker (not Dave), possessiveness (from Dave hehe) and alcohol comsuption.

Author’s Note: My mother saw me writing this and she said it was impressive that I was writing in English. That's one of the good sides of being the only one who can speak and understand English in a brazilian household - I can write 8k words of smut about a Pedro Pascal's character.

He isn't even in my list of regulars. But again, since when you guys try to understand me?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS BLOG IS +18!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

--------------------------------

It wasn’t like he was your boss - in matters of hierarchy, he had more pomp, but he didn't have the power to order you to serve coffee, for example. Unlike the other agents in his ranks, however, Dave York was… likable. He limited himself to almost symbolic instructions or requests - a report, a question about the availability of a meeting room (he didn't like his).

The thing that made him tolerable was simple. Dave York knew how to ask just as much as he knew how to demand.

You mentioned him to your coworkers sometimes and you all would share nothing but a few words about the guy - that he was nice, polite, discreet. With nothing but an old LinkedIn profile, there wasn’t much to see about him. Well, in the meaning of personality.

Dave was attractive. And married.  

That being said, you couldn’t see yourself as the purest of the souls for feeling such a magnetism towards him. You wouldn’t come to some excuse, to say that the looks you sent his way had this uncontrollable intensity because, hey, you would go feral over him. It wasn’t true. If you wanted, if you tried hard enough, Dave would be just someone from work. What gave you some sense of preservation was that you’d never give the first step. What took it away from you was that if he asked, if he suggested, you wouldn’t… be contrary to the idea. But you would say no. 

“Did you hear?” Alessia, a fellow friend, came to your desk with fast steps and a weird eagerness. 

“Hear what?” You raised your head nonchalantly, ready for whatever gossip she had on her because… Well, Alessia never hid her intense interest in whatever off-work situation was happening around the office. 

She eyed your surroundings, surprisingly making sure no one was listening - it seemed so odd that you yourself looked around as well, frowning at the sudden mystery around whatever topic she would bring. 

“You know Dave York, right?” Alessia whispered, body leaning over your desk. 

“... Yes?”

“He’s getting divorced.”

“WHAT.”

“Shut up!” She shushed you with a scolding, enough to make you tap your mouth shut almost immediately. 

“How do you-Fuck, Alessia, how do you know that?” You asked after composing your discreet tone, not even daring to pretend you weren’t interested in what sounded like a huge lie. 

Dave loved his family, he acted like a girl-dad-family-guy type of man, even if in subtle ways - to not involve any business thing with personal issues. From what you saw, which wasn’t much, he would at least be in a couple therapy. Hell, Dave would fucking try. And given the number of women around the building who gave him intentional glances and flirty lines, you would know by now if he had given up to the ‘temptation’. 

You felt bad for thinking of him like that, like he was a cheater, even if it was common for guys like him. There were other reasons for people to divorce, especially if you’re working on a job that takes so much of your time and-

“... I might’ve been passing by his assistant’s desk and eventually listened to her talking on the phone…”

“Alessia.” You warned. 

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear! Dave is… Well, he’s nice with us. I wouldn’t snoop through his things, he’s not Dawson or that stupid Mark Russo-”

“Mark Rudolph.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She waved you off. “The point is that she mentioned something about Dave being kinda unstable because of marital crises. Divorce. Her words, not mine.”

All of this sounded so secretive, so intimate; you know Alessia enough to be comforted by the idea of her not spreading the news. She was too curious, but not cruel to prejudice Dave or his assistant. All in all, she would just bring the subject up again in the privacy of your lunch breaks or night outs - nothing more sexy than that. 

“... Oh.”

“That’s all you have? Oh?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, engage! How could you not be surprised by it?”

“I don’t look surprised?”

“You look lost.”

Because you were. During your lifetime, you had your fair share of big news or surprises - an aunt of yours assuming that she was lesbian in her late 50s, your college grades being enough to have a job in the government, finding out that losing your virginity wasn’t that big a deal. The difference was that they were all expectations, things you imagined in a way and turned out to be something else. Well, you could guess that your aunt could have inclinations. Applying for an office job in Governmental Security, in the CIA, was your first option since high school. You had at least 5 friends telling you that sex wasn’t great. 

You couldn’t guess, in your spare time with the senior agents, that Dave York would be divorced. 

“... We shouldn’t be speculating,” You said in a defensive tone, adjusting yourself in your seat and looking back at the computer screen. 

“Don’t act so innocent, yeah? I know you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, so you think you’re always so subtle about the biggest crush you-”

“Shhhhh! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Your desperate shout came lower than her clear intention to fuzz with your absence of reaction. A hiss, you could say, with your hand slapping her wrist. 

Alessia grinned like the devil itself. 

“Just sayin’,” She raised her hands in defeat, straightening her stance and looking you over with a smirk. “He’s officially on now, baby.” 

“Get the fuck outta here.”

And if you felt your cheeks and neck burn - if you knew that this was because she was kinda right, you blinked a few times and got back to your work. 

-----------------------------

“Hold on!”

You’d heard it before you saw whoever the person was - you just held the elevator’s doors with a small ‘oof’ and dizzy feet. Just when you smelled the perfume, when you heard, again, the same voice but with a soft low tone saying a single thanks, you noticed who it was. 

Fuck. 

Seeing Dave standing there, both hands on his pockets with a neutral expression, not even giving you a side glance to notice your surprise. You cleared your throat, turned your heated face to the side and watched the doors closing - him staying on one side of the thing, you almost being swallowed by the wall from the other.

You unconsciously passed your hands over your dress. A new one, in a color you liked. You were so fucking nervous, as if the conversation with Alessia made you a criminal of something you shouldn’t be interested about. And, well, you weren’t, you know? It's just… Ugh.

“Seventh floor?” The sudden question made you turn to him with a frown.

“... What?”

“You’re going to the seventh floor?” 

“Oh. Oh, yeah, we… Our department changed to this floor.” No etiquette towards the topic of just saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’. You needed to embarrass yourself. 

Dave smiled in comprehension, then nodded his head. 

“Has it been recently?”

“Three months.”

“Mm.”

And you looked at him, when you dared to give him more of a real glance, you noticed that he was still watching your nervous stance with a small pleased grin on his face. You smiled back - not with the same confidence, of course, but that was something at least.

“I’ll take notes from now on.” Dave said after a long elevator ride in silence, right when you were leaving him there alone. You turned around, saw the same grin staring back at you. “That you’re on the seventh floor now.”

It seemed sweet enough, polite for a colleague; you couldn’t help but smile at the amused tone of his voice and his ease into making small talk. 

“Yes.”

And even if it was regular, not odd or invasive, you stood there in the corridor, after the doors were closed and the elevator kept going up, up, up… 

You stared at the thing until Alessia came by your side, asking what took you so long. 

-----------------------------

For better or worse, you didn't tell Alessia about the little encounter with Dave, or the others that happened over the next few weeks. It wasn't like there was a point A and a point B - he was kind, polite and subtle in his approaches, as you would see him doing with any other colleague. You were conveniently there and the interactions were never awkward in any way. 

The said magnetism was there. Your attraction as well. For that very reason, you kept everything there, in the professional line of things, where the schedule of occupations and spaces on the seventh floor were always more convenient. And until you could gather reliable information, one that didn’t come with too much excitement from Alessia because damn you loved her but she could be really delusional, you decided to keep it cool, on your quiet side of the things, without big hopes or inventful ideas. Or let your imagination flow to-

“Good afternoon?” 

You gasped at the voice, startled by the sudden noise in the middle of such a quiet room, and when you turned around, pencil in hand, you saw Dave standing in the doorway with a small smile on his face. 

“Hi! Erm-” You cleared your throat, blinking a few times. “Hi. Dave. Sorry for that, I was distracted. Wasn’t expecting anyone here… so… soon.”

“Yeah, a meeting of mine ended early and I thought I'd use the free time to check some emails before we start here. Do you mind?” He pointed at one of the empty chairs, not daring to move before you could nod. “Thanks.”

It was unconscious the way you rubbed your hands on the fabric of your dress before going back to the board and writing the topics Joe had asked for - it was as if your palms were suddenly wet with a taut, unexpected sweat. And to be fair, you never really liked Joe's traditional handwriting method; PowerPoints would cut your time on your feet and certainly save you the trouble of writing or erasing the same things over and over to make your handwriting minimally legible, but it would do you some good to keep yourself busy with something while being alone with York. 

It also seemed like the kind of situation that was pretty depressing for your morale. With Dave there, you'd need to limit your curses and defeated mutters to each erase, which revealed itself to be a stressing quest. You would hate to give him the impression that you hated what you were doing even if you did - Dave could be nice, but he wouldn’t stop himself from giving Joe his opinions about your behavior.

And, well, you kind of needed the job. 

All the silence in the room, interrupted now and then by the pen scratching the whiteboard, was only interrupted after a good few minutes, when he decided to speak. 

“Do you-”

“Yes?” 

Your quickness to turn with visible stress and discomfort had him frowning, then looking down at the way your fingers tightened around the pen. Maybe it just wasn't a good day or the situation itself was always this stressful, but your shoulders were tight and your posture tense. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't Dave or the writing on the board. Meetings involving Joe would always put you on edge - days of prep, practically doing all the work for charts and data, and even information you barely had access to, all to receive other types of demands that left you stuck with too much work.

Dave noticed that. 

“... Do you have news from Eleanor?” Being decent enough for that, he decided to ask this instead, which made you blink a few times, as if waiting for a blow that never came. “I end up getting few updates on how she is doing. I've been pretty busy lately and I couldn't congratulate her. It's a boy, isn't it?”

Oh. Oh, yeah. Eleanor. His assistant, who became a mother recently and was out on maternity leave. That Eleanor. 

“Yes. I think his name is Bryan. Or John. Or Bryan John or John Bryan… I’m not sure.”

“Seems like something she would choose,” He said with an amused smile. “And as much as I want her to take her time, I admit that I miss her around here.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can replace an assistant.”

“You’re right. Joe is the lucky one to have you, always ready to provide and organized. If he didn't waste your time with such nonsense-”

“Nonsense?”

“I could-Yes, nonsense-I could use some help. Or just take you for me already.” 

The joking tone made you scoff a giggle, hiding your mouth with your hand and averting his gaze. Dave was giggling as well, but with a huge confidence - not tearing his eyes away, measuring your reaction. When you raised your eyes again, he still had that attentive face. 

“I’m sure there’s other great assistants willing to help you.” 

“Well, I haven't found these ones yet. If you ever know where to find them, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Of course,” You smiled, not being able to help but feel a little shy at the attention. 

When Joe appeared shortly afterwards, along with the few who would also be present at the meeting, the topic died down, but you got the impression that Dave kept a focused look in your direction for a while longer before getting distracted with work. 

-----------------------------

If you're being completely honest, you knew you were the kind of person that other people took time to feel the kind of sexual appreciation for. It took a while, without love at first sight or passionate looks - it was like unveiling a beauty that perhaps wasn't clear at first. Alessia said that you were very modest and inattentive, that people looked at you or that you didn't really notice flirting because people did; you'd rather think that you just occupied yourself with different things and, you know, that's okay. It was a normal enough life within the work you did.

You didn't have a car, despite knowing how to drive a little (with a short list of incidents in your history), so you always took the bus or train or, on difficult days, a taxi or Uber. This, of course, when there were no extraordinary conditions, such as extended working hours because Joe made you stay. That day, you were busy with a lot of documentation that had come to you late. Alessia even offered to give you a ride, but she had a date that night and you knew it would get in the way. 'That’s okay,' you said, and then saw the entire floor empty completely as the hours passed.

When you took an elevator with a defeated sigh, around eight, you thought you would be able to get the difficult day's transport; it was dangerous to walk at that time of night, of course. But then you ended up on the sidewalk of the building, no battery on your phone and not even a sight of a taxi nearby. Fine. Fine. Yeah, totally fine. That was the epitome of your career, of  working with Joe, of… being a fucking ‘good employee’ just so that motherfucker could-

“Hey!”

You turned around at the sound of the voice, startled to see Dave parking his car in front of you and leaning over the passenger seat to grab your attention from the desperate swipes you made on your phone. He was smiling politely at you, waiting for a reaction you didn’t give for a few seconds. 

“Hey,” You said with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were working late.”

“Yeah, had some stuff to do,” He shrugged. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, I’m just trying to find a ride home. My phone’s off, I can’t call an Uber and there’s no taxis around.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, looking around and nodding a little. 

“You live nearby?” 

“I wouldn’t say nearby, but…”

“I can give you a ride.”

The offer made you blink dumbly at him for a moment, phone in one hand and purse in the other. 

“No, no, I don’t want to bother.” You waved him off with a smile. 

“It's late and it's getting cold. I would hate to leave you here when I can leave you at home,” He argued, still without losing his friendly smile and soft tone. “I'll drop you off.”

You could say 'no', you could insist that a taxi would show up soon or that you could just use his phone to order an Uber, but you knew it would be in vain because Dave was insistent and might get upset if you refused to accept the ride from him. Besides, who were you kidding? It was a ride from Dave York, the guy you were really interested in. What other opportunity would you have to learn more about him, even just a little, outside of work?

“... Okay then,” You conceded with a nod, hearing his ‘attagirl’ while he let you enter his car. Once inside, you put the seatbelt on and kept your purse firmly on your lap to keep your hands busy. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay. What are co-workers if not to help in these difficult times?” And he said it so nonchalantly, using one of his hands to simply touch your knee in a friendly manner before putting it back on the steering wheel, that when you finally noticed the action, you also noticed that you left him hanging on a question about why you were there so late. 

“Joe gave me some paperwork at the end of the day and the deadline was tomorrow,” You said, seeing the way he frowned. 

“Does he always do this? Make you stay alone here until late?”

Well, you didn’t want to complain, it would be unprofessional. But you were so tired, so done with Joe’s shit, that you couldn’t help but say something about it. 

“He’s always saying it’s work.” 

Dave scoffed. 

“This is ridiculous.”

You nodded, eyeing the streets silently. That was the beginning and the end of the conversation, with you just giving basic instructions of where you live. During this time, you noticed a few things inside the car; small things, like the childlike ornament on the inside rearview mirror or the pleasant scent of bergamot or the soft music from the radio station that played almost like a discreet soundtrack. He looked as organized there as he was in the office, without a crumb of food on the inside or a stain on the dashboard. Everything was impeccable.

“You know, that job to be my assistant is still open.” The sudden comment made you turn to him with surprise. Dave was already on the street where you lived and you thought he wouldn’t say anything else, but that made you frown. 

“What?”

“There’s a big chance that Eleanor will not be back. I’m gonna need someone to help me.” 

“But…” You considered. “I'm sure the agency has a list of more experienced people for you.”

He smiled at that, parking right in front of your building and turning his body to you, one arm hanging on the steering wheel and the other brushing his chin. 

“I think you have enough experience for what I need. And believe me, I’m meticulous when it comes to choosing who I want to work with, and I’ve been watching you for some time.”

Really?

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. I always envied Joe for having someone so valuable on his team, I already told you that. And let's face it, as a senior agent, I can give you more benefits and I certainly don't intend to keep you working late into the night.” 

That made you smile a little, shaking your head and eyeing the street ahead with uncertainty. 

“... I need to think about it.” 

“Hey,” He brushed his fingers on your jaw, making you turn your eyes at him again. Get your shit together, woman, for the love of God… “No pressure, yeah? You take your time to consider. And if you’re afraid of how Joe might react, I’ll deal with him.”

“O-Okay…”

“Tell me your decision when you feel like it,” Dave leaned in, disconnecting your seatbelt and brushing his hand on your shoulder, then opened your door. “I would be happy to work with you anyhow.” 

“Okay,” You repeated yourself, nodding and getting out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Dave. And for the opportunity.”

“Anything, honey. Good night.”

He sped down the street and you stood for a long time on the sidewalk outside your building thinking about a few things: you should take your charger to work, Joe was an asshole, Dave York gave you a ride (his car smelled really good, like him), he had been paying attention to you and… God, he called you 'honey'?

Yeah, definitely get your shit together. 

-----------------------------

It was like having one foot outside. In the morning, all it took was for Joe to send you an email saying that you should pick up his suits from the dry cleaners and, as soon as you arrived at work (without the suits), you went to the ninth floor and, effectively, to Dave's office.

He had the same charming smile he always had when you said you accepted the job.

-----------------------------

It was a curiously peaceful transfer, most likely due to the bureaucratic situation between Dave, a higher caliber agent, and Joe. Dave's room was much larger, with large windows and good lighting, and everything seemed much more comfortable. You felt impressed and wanted to impress.

Eleanor told you everything, but curiously she didn't know how Dave liked his coffee or his favorite restaurant for lunch. She mentioned that he never asked her that kind of thing, and when you mentioned it to Alessia, she said that maybe that was why people liked him there (apart from, as she herself mentioned, 'his nice, toned ass in stockings age').

As soon as you started, he had a two-week trip to Brussels. This gave you time to get used to his routine, with calendars and schedules, even with who he preferred to talk to or who should leave messages on your desk. All the effort (that you convinced yourself that came from a place of pure professionalism) had some return when he arrived that morning, after the trip, with a smile on his face and his casual blue suit, Dave had two cups of coffee on his hand, accompanied by a small paper bag from Starbucks. 

“I unfortunately didn't have time to bring the champagne,” He teased, handing you a cup and the bag. “Latte and cinnamon roll, right?” 

“How did you-”

“Alessia.” 

Hah. Of course. That would explain why she sent you a million morning texts telling you she would be the one bringing you coffee. 

“That's very kind of you,” You said with a smile. “But it's a shame I don't know yet which coffee you like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave reassured, walking in the direction of his office and observing you from head to toe. “That's not the first thing I value in an assistant like you.” 

Like you. Of course you didn’t know what it meant, but you tried not to read into it. Either way, you smiled a little while sipping on your coffee and eating the cinnamon roll, touched by the considerate act. 

-----------------------------

It would always be a cliché for the boss and the secretary to have such a passionate and fiery affair. At the CIA, there were very strict rules about this type of behavior, but they didn't have the same weight as not being able to tell government secrets or being one of those retired guys who went on TV documentaries to talk about how aliens existed. The break rooms were full of true stories of similar cases, just like an everyday convenience, so it was normal when, over time, people started to speculate or make jokes about your relationship with Dave.

At first, you just denied it with a smile. Little by little, everyone started to believe, because ethically speaking, Dave never showed any signs of giving you some kind of special treatment compared to anyone there. The curious thing was that, as people let the speculation cool, you noticed some kind of tension between the two of you.

After the first month, he started to have subtle touches on some part of your body: fingers that brushed your back when you two took the elevator together and he told you to go first, or touches of his fingertips as he asked about the color of your nails. Sometimes, unconsciously, he would stay close enough while showing something on your computer and then, before leaving, he would give your shoulder a brief squeeze before leaving.

Between the second and fourth, more or less, the stares began. At first you thought he was just staring into space in contemplation or reasoning, with you conveniently there in his eyesight, but then it seemed more like a deliberate action. You felt him watching and the next thing you knew, Dave was smiling like nothing had happened before going back to work.

From the fifth to the sixth, he started bringing you small gifts from trips he took. From Canada, a pair of winter socks; from Malta, a ceramic set of espresso cups; from Spain, a Manila shawl. They progressed from small considerations for your services to finally 'I remembered you when I saw this' and 'I thought it would go with your kitchen'. He gave you rides, paid for your lunch, complimented your hair or your nails or your skirt or your shoes and sometimes he just kept staring, as if paying attention to something.

Dave, that same man who you labored a regular interest in, wore the same tailored clothes, the ones that accentuated his body, revealing potentially strong thighs and a perfect physical structure for someone his age. At that point, though, being so close, you knew he bit pen caps when he was focused, ran his hands through his hair when he was tense, and always left two buttons on his shirt open after the last meeting of the day was over. His hands were an interesting counterpoint, steady and reflective of manual labor, even though he was always impeccable.

That all meant you were noticing each other. 

Deep down, in fact, you just had the impression that he was naturally inclined to know everything from a person who would be so close to his routine, his professional environment and his life as a whole, and therefore, he would always know everything about you unconsciously while you would only know what he wanted you to know. 

“Oh, what’s the special occasion?” 

The question caught you by surprise, enough to make you gasp. Dave was entering his office nonchalantly, looking at you with an amused frown. You were just putting some paperwork on his desk when he came back from a meeting. 

“... What?”

“Your dress. I’ve never seen you wear this one before,” He pointed out. “And it’s way too cool for the environment.” 

Oh yeah, the dress. The dress you were almost dying for him to notice, but you didn’t get so lucky because of how busy his morning was - enough for not being able to see him until that exact moment, after lunch time. The dress you chose carefully at a shopping trip with Alessia, one she approved, one that was new. It was an earthy shade of brown, kind of satiny and fitted to your body almost like a glove. It wasn't really a dress, it was a discrete set - the tighter shirt had a few buttons and the skirt complemented it, as it was the same color, in a harmonious way. Well, those were things Alessia had told you. In a way, you agreed. You felt good in the morning when you wore it and you were feeling good (in a different way) about the fact that Dave paid attention; finally paid attention. 

“I hope I'm not straying from dress protocol,” You said, trying to sound funny or collected about his comment. He smiled, walking closer. 

“Wouldn’t say you did it,” Dave stood two steps away, both hands inside his pockets while, without any shame, looking at the extent of your body. “You are quite distracting, but I don’t think you can help it. Wearing this or not, you’re a pretty woman who happens to wear pretty clothes.” 

You blinked at him a few times, taking notes on the way he said it so casually, without a single tone of flirting, then turned around his desk to go through his day. 

“So? Any special occasion?” He pressed calmly, focusing on the papers in front of him. 

“... No! No, I mean… I’ll go for a few drinks with some friends from work. Alessia, some other assistants… Happy hour.” 

“Oh,” Unimpressed. “Seems like you’ll have a lotta fun tonight then.”

“So-so.”

“So-so?”

“Joe will be there too.”

With your time working together with Dave, you began to expose small aggressions and positions that Joe used to have. It wasn't anything serious, it was even 'normal', like comments that came very close to inappropriate and absurd during working hours. In the beginning, you mentioned things he did to others, things that Dave had often witnessed. When you told him about yourself, about what Joe directed at you, about the calls for drinks and rides that you always politely declined, Dave even apologized if he was being invasive. You said no. After that, he got weird when he heard about the guy. 

Mentioning this to him made you watch that same reaction. He raised his eyes at you with a big scowl, papers forgotten and a stern expression on his face. 

“Will he.” Dave said in an emotionless tone, as if making sure you said it right. 

“Yeah, some agents will, in fact,” You nodded. “You could come by too if you want to. I know it’s not your kind of thing, but maybe, I don’t know, you could decompress a little?”

The offer was left hanging in the air for quite some time, with him staring at you without a reaction. You waited for a decline, really, because Dave wasn’t one of going out with coworkers just because. But then, all of the sudden, his face relaxed, he smiled and became a whole different person in a matter of seconds. 

“‘Would love to, honey. Just don’t want to interrupt your complainings about the bosses ‘round here,” He teased, going back to the papers once again, being all playful. 

“We’ll be careful to keep it away from your ears,” The answer made him giggle. 

“Just tell me when and where, yeah?”

“I will.”

You left his room satisfied, even if not so hopeful that he would really appear at that get-together. Perhaps, and that could be a fair statement, obnoxious of how Dave’s face fell into that same ugly scowl with the reminder of Joe’s presence still surrounding your social life - or your life, in general. 

-----------------------------

“What are you looking at?” Alessia asked, pushing a drink in your hand and following your eyesight at the door. You just averted your gaze, sipping in a way too strong cup of gin and vodka. 

“Nothin’.”

“It must be something. Should we be waiting for someone else?”

Dammit, why did this woman know you so well?

“... I just…” You looked around, making sure none of your coworkers would hear you two. “I invited Dave.”

“YOU DI-”

“Shut up!” Preventing the storm of words coming out of her mouth, you shushed her off, giving another wary look around the bar. “I offered. Nothing more than that.”

“And I assume he said yes?!”

“He did.”

“Oh,” She raised her eyebrows. “Bold of you.”

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“No, seriously. That’s the most brave thing you did since that dude from IT.” 

“Really?” You made a face at her. 

“Just sayin’, baby, sorry. But let’s hope he comes by, give us some good talk instead of this… whatever this is with Joe and his guys.” 

Over her shoulder, exactly where she pointed out, you saw Joe sharing some of those suspicious laughs with some other fellow agents, obviously saying something that your colleagues couldn’t find funny in the slightest. You sipped on your drink again, raising an eyebrow at her and shrugging. 

“Let’s hope.”

----------------------------- 

It was a long night, even if it was fun despite the company. You moderated your alcohol intake, laughed with your friends, knew how to dismiss Joe's mean or typically provocative comments. He behaved, somehow, at least for what anyone could expect from him, and the problem was just that his whole personality was just annoying. By the end of the encounter, later on, with people disappearing and any sign that Dave might appear had already vanished, you decided to call it a night, phone in hand, ordering an Uber for you and Alessia. 

Chilly night, peaceful street - not a lot of cars available, which didn’t bother your friend, who leaned against the brick wall on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette and staring at the sky during what seemed like a really good drunk state. You kept an eye on her from time to time, splitting your attention between her and the phone screen, sometimes seeing those drunk eyes looking at people passing by or just wandering around. 

You turned your back for a second, anxious at the possibility of finally getting a car and-

“Hey!”

It wasn’t aggressive, nor harsh, but you jumped at the possibility of drunk-Alessia interacting with anyone by any means. When you snapped your head in her direction again, ready to start a fight or anything that she could throw your way, you saw that it wasn’t the case - that she was smiling at the sight of the person approaching. 

“You’re, like, really late” She said to Dave, narrowing her eyes to see the time on her wrist watch and then waving it in front of his face. 

“Got stuck with work, sorry,” He smiled apologetically, turning to you. “Last minute problem.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, mind already working on what you could’ve forgotten to do before leaving to the bar. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Dave waved you off. “I take it the night went well?”

“Except for that stupid Joe talking a lot of shit, it was good,” Alessia intervened, voice full of venom while blowing the smoke of her cigarette in the night air. “That bitch can’t shut the fuck up…”

“I think we’ve got the point, Alessia, thank you,” You scolded her, taking a few steps closer to make sure she was listening to you properly. She tsked, face turning to the side while she started to get distracted again. 

That just made you huff, shaking your head while going back to your phone to find the damn Uber. 

“No luck?” Dave asked. 

“No, this just-” You raised your eyes in time to see him really closer, looking curiously at you and the phone screen. That made you stop in your tracks, clearing your throat before speaking again. “I’m not really lucky with this stuff, maybe.”

“Huh,” He grinned, looking around for a second. “I was hoping I could come by, but since your night ended early, I can give you two a ride.”

“That’s not really necess-”

“It is!” Alessia cheerfully said from behind Dave, raising both hands in the air. “My feet are killing me, baby…”

That made you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You said. “Really, Dave, you can have your drink, enjoy the night. We’ll find a ride to go back home.”

“I insist,” He pressed, one of his hands carefully placed on your right arm. “And anyway, I was planning on enjoying the night with good company. The only difference is that you’ll be in my car.” 

Hah. How charming… You couldn’t help but smile at his statement, seeing from your peripheral that Alessia was smirking and making pouty kissy lips in your direction. 

“... If you say so.”

“Yeah, he said so, can we go now?” The way your friend throwed the comment at you two made Dave grin grow wider. 

“C’mon, ladies.”

He helped Alessia to sit properly on his back seat, even opened the door for you to sit at the passenger side. Took Alessia ten or fifteen seconds to pass out, sleeping soundly in a very embarrassing way. All the while, you sat there quiet, talking now and again to give directions to where your friend lived; Dave drove peacefully, right hand on the steering wheel while his left elbow was propped up on his open window, head tilted to the side. 

You couldn’t help but pay attention, like any other moment you two were in the same room. He seemed tired, stern - work clothes still on, mind probably going somewhere else. 

“You should start charging me, you know?” You decided to make small talk right after you two left Alessia at her place. 

“Mm?” Dave hummed absently, not taking his eyes off the street. 

“For these rides.”

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, smiling a little. 

“Should I?”

“Any other person with common sense would.”

For a moment, all he did was huff, but when you two stopped at a red light, Dave leaned comfortably on his seat and looked at you. 

“You should know by now that I don’t play by common sense.” 

“... No?” You frowned. 

“Nn-nn. There’s a lot I prevent myself from doing that could have something to do with common sense.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?” The traffic light changed and he started driving again, but now more attentive to what you were saying, almost amused by the way his face was softer. 

“You’re the perfect example of someone who plays by common sense. Polite, well dressed, family man…” The last word made you hiss internally. 

“Mm.” He didn’t seem affected by your words, by the slight mention of his family, because that was one of the things you two never talked about. Still, you could punch yourself in the face for that. 

“I mean, the usual.”

“Makes sense.”

“Right.”

“But everyone has things that don't have to do with socially acceptable stuff,” It carried an intensity, the way he said it, one that made you shift in your seat and burn your cheeks. 

You brushed your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, averted your gaze from him to watch the street. Deciding against your better judgment, or just being a coward, you didn’t elaborate. 

“Joe behaved?” He asked after a beat of silence, changing the subject. 

“On his own terms, yes.”

“‘Would hate to have another talk about his approach with my assistant.” 

My assistant. Why did that sound slightly… No, no. Get your fucking shit together.

“You two… talked?” You asked with curiosity, clearly a little confused by such information. He clearly didn’t need to do that. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“I just don’t want to bring you any problems.”

“You’re not,” Dave reassured you, shaking his head. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? I like to be sure my friend has anything they need if I can help.” 

Yeah, friend would be… Yeah. Friend. Huh. Friend. 

“Fair point.”

“I know,” He smiled. 

The rest of the ride went on in silence, but you couldn't tell for sure if you were comfortable or anxious or confused. Or all at the same time. It was like you felt bad for even trying to read beyond kindness, like an obsessed teenager interpreting signs that weren't there. Maybe he just thought that Joe's presence still hovering around him could interfere with the quality of his work and, therefore, he just made sure he stayed away. It made sense.

When you arrived at your house, it took you a while to get out of the car, with a strange delay. It was clear that you wanted to enjoy that almost intimate and private time with Dave, to be close, to talk about what the two of you could have talked about at the bar if he hadn't been busy with work. You wanted to continue feeling the electricity of being close, of attraction, of hearing his voice for longer, his laugh, his mannerisms. 

“I have beer,” You said bluntly. “If you want to, you know.”

He stared at you for a moment, measuring your face and lightly licking his bottom lip, then using his thumb to brush his chin - that regular tick he had. 

“It’s late.” He said.

“... I know, sorry, I-”

“But beer sounds good.” 

At the same time as you felt relieved, you felt a feeling in the pit of your stomach of anticipation. You smiled, got out of the car and clenched your fists when you heard him do the same behind you, followed by his footsteps on the asphalt until you realized that you should start walking to your door. Dave followed silently, keeping a respectful distance but curiously watching you the entire time you invited him in. 

He didn't look around your living room when you turned on the light, nor at the place where you left your bag and keys - Dave looked at you, at what you were doing, in a look that seemed to penetrate your insides. You made a comment about him not noticing the mess and he just shook his head. You started walking to the kitchen, asked him to follow you and he did, stopping next to the counter and, again, burning your back as he stared at you, taking the beers from the fridge. 

It was safer to sit at the kitchen table, so you did. Only then, when you started making comments about what was talked about in the bar hours before, about how fun it was, did Dave re-engage in the conversation, losing all his silent and observant posture for a more conversational one. You managed to relax more, but your body felt the way his eyes went from your eyes to your mouth as you spoke, or to your throat as you took a sip of beer. And you could certainly never catch him making any of these observations, because they were quick, subtle, almost hallucinogenic, as if you were imagining it. 

At some point during that conversation, when it was actually much later in the night, you were wearing no heels, he was wearing just one more button undone on his shirt and the two of you became more comfortable on the couch, extending what seemed like the first conversation you were having in months. It could be the buzz of the beer or the tiredness, but you started to notice more closely the same things he might have been noticing about you: the little skin that showed at the opening of his shirt, the fabric of his pants pressing against his half-open thighs, the mouth touching the bottle spout. 

You didn't even pay attention to whether you were being discreet about it or not.

“It surprises me,” He said casually, pulling you out of your trance. 

“What?” You asked. 

“No boyfriend or girlfriend on the line for you?”

“No… I think I’m always busy enough for that.”

“I can give you some days off if you need,” He joked, which made you two giggle a little. “But really, I’m impressed there isn’t no one in the game for you.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“There actually is someone.”

Dave raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“But it’s more like a platonic thing.”

“So a friend from work?”

Don’t answer that. Lie.

“Yes.”

“Do I know him?”

Lie! 

“Maybe.”

He nodded his head, contemplating your answer carefully without taking his eyes off you. There was a pregnant pause, with you both just looking at each other without saying anything. 

He was the one who approached first. 

It wasn't something blatant, like grabbing a person out of nowhere, but it felt more like a probe, as if he was testing the waters before moving forward. You let him, because you knew it was incredibly sensual to see him take such small, subtle steps towards the end of all your doubts. He just adjusted his position and sat a little closer, placing one arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers almost touching your shoulder but not enough. 

“So I am your will outside of common sense?” Dave asked in a low voice, head tilted to the side while he brought the same fingers close to the collar of your shirt, brushing the fabric calmly without losing eye contact. You swallowed hard, feeling a heat between your legs and the most irregular beating of your heart.

“... Mm-hm.” 

“I see…” He hummed, moving his hand closer to your face, the tip of his fingers now grazing the skin of your neck, up to your jaw, cheek, the bridge of your nose and then the cupid bow of your lips.  

That wandering tip of his finger booped the tip of your nose lightly, almost playfully, with a smile growing on his face at your lack of answer. 

“I've always admired your facility with words, dear. Why are you suddenly so quiet with me?” 

You blinked a few times at the call out. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“That you want me, for starters. At least just as much as I want you.” 

“How can I say that if I don’t know how much you want me?” It was your turn to be the smartass, but he liked it, biting his bottom lip. 

“There we go, there’s my good girl back…” Dave leaned in even more, breath touching the corner of your mouth. “You’ll have to earn this info, baby. That’s how it works. Wanna know how to do it?”

You nodded. 

“Words.” He used a stern tone, eye to eye. 

“Yes,” Was your answer, one that came out breathly from the proximity. 

“You’ll take your clothes off, then you’ll bounce on my cock like I know you dreamed of doing. I’m sure you’re already wet, I can fucking feel it. And you’re always so efficient, I know you can do it effortlessly.” 

Dave had a commanding presence, a calm but stern way of ordering. He walked away, smiling like a rascal when he saw you try to follow the heat of his mouth with a pathetic movement of your head, and sat comfortably on the sofa, legs open and both hands resting on his thighs. You would find it ridiculous if it were anyone else, but it was Dave, so you unconsciously started to go for the buttons of your shirt.

“Get up,” He interrupted your movements. “‘Want you to put on a show for me.” 

And damn, you did it. You got up, wobbling a little from arousal, standing in front of his spread legs and getting even more hot with his lustful gaze. Tentatively, you unzipped your skirt and moved your hips so it fell to your feet. As soon as you opened each button on your shirt, he lifted your hips a little off the couch, taking one of his hands to adjust his hard on. It was a scene you certainly wouldn't forget.

“Nah,” Dave raised a single finger before you could open your bra. “Changed my mind. Sit here.”

Again, you obliged, both hands on his shoulders for support while you straddled his waist. He seemed distracted by your lingerie, looking and analyzing you, running his hand over the straps, then over the transparent fabric that barely covered your nipples, attentive to the care he was directing towards them. When you sighed at the contact, he leaned his head and gave one of them a small kiss through the fabric, making you whimper. 

He was so hard against your covered core, you almost moved your hips for some friction, but before you had the chance, Dave grabbed the sides of your panties, pulling them up and pressing the fabric against your throbbing clit. The motherfucker was playing with you, observing each change in your expression at the teasing. 

“Such a pretty pussy…” There was an amused tone there too when he pulled the panties to the side and brushed his knuckles on that sensitive area. “What’s taking you so long to fuck yourself on me, hon? Go on. Take it off.”

Gaining some ‘decency’, you went to his belt, easily opening his pants and taking in the sight of a big and really hard cock that was melting with pre cum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight, of being able to hold it against your palm and pump him a few times. He groaned at the stimulation, as if warning you to go faster, to fucking sit on it, so you obliged again, stretching yourself with his length and moaning at the sensation of being so full. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” Dave gripped your hips firmly, growling. “Get used to it, baby. Stretch that pussy, get used to my cock so you can have it anytime you want.”

“Yeah?” You panted. 

“Mm-hm,” That was all the encouragement you needed to start moving, rolling your hips and going up and down slowly, savoring the moment with him. “Since the first time I saw you looking at me, begging me to fuck you good, I wanted to bend you over that desk and give exactly what you’re asking. Because that’s what you wanted, eh? Wanted me to fuck this pussy?”

“Yes… Fuck, yes…” You closed your eyes at his words, aroused by the discovery that your desire didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“So do it. Prove to me that this lingerie is for me, not for Joe.”

Dave was frowning in concentration when you blinked at him. The admission seemed coherent, like all the reactions he had about you mentioning Joe started to make sense. Fuck, he was jealous and that was so hot. 

“Jealous?” You smirked, speeding up the movements of your hips against his. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fucking jealous,” He slapped one of your ass cheeks, bringing your face closer with a hand wrapped possessively on the nape of your neck. “Jealous that he got to get you, to talk to me about how hot you were and that you’re not mine. Almost taught him a lesson, almost fucking killed him…”

It could be a reaction of the intensity of the moment, but you thought it was so hot that all you could do was moan. Suddenly, then, you were on your back on the couch, with him sealing your lips in a harsh and wet kiss, pounding inside of you restlessly. 

“All mine, you hear me? You’re mine,” Dave bit your bottom lip harshly, making you taste blood on your tongue, then touched your forehead with his. “Say it.”

“I…” You were close, so close, faster than with any other partner you ever had in your bed before. “I’m yours, Dave… Yours…”

“That’s it, you’re mine. Fucking mine,” He got on his knees, putting your legs up around his hips, going even more deeper while watching him disappearing inside you. “Joe doesn’t get to fuck you like this, I do.”

Taken by the same lust as you, he groaned when he noticed you getting your orgasm with a high moan, wrapping his fingers around your neck for stability while not stopping the movement of his hips. The slap sound of skin on skin made you go crazy, gripping his arms with the sensation of your second orgasm coming in full force. 

He came a lot. Taking deep breaths, you just felt all of his seed inside, but also dripping around your thighs and probably wetting the cushions below you two. All of this, all of the intensity, and Dave was fully dressed. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft again, nothing like the savage he’d been minutes before. With the weight of him on top of you, his breath on your neck and his come on your legs, all you could do was nod. “Words.”

The second order made you put your arms around his torso, holding him close. 

“I am, Dave. I am.”

He groaned a little to support himself on his hands, eyeing you from above and taking in your cock drunk expression. 

“You look even more gorgeous like that,” The comment made you smile shyly at him. “Been jerking off for quite some time imagining your face after I fucked you, not I’ll need to do more times so I can’t forget.”

“I’m willing to help.”

“Good,” He smiled, leaning down to kiss you slowly and sensually, probably tasting a little blood from your injured lip. “Because I’ll fucking tear you apart.” 

#dave york x reader #female reader #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york x you #equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Bloody Love Letter

The overdue fluff (I tried, okay?) snippet for @thelazywitchphotographer

TW: Blood, murder mention, knife mention

To most people, the sound of footsteps padding across asphalt in the middle of the night would have been worrying, but Villain didn't exactly fit into the category of 'most' people. Besides, these particularly heavy footsteps were dragging across the street slowly, probably belonging to a drunkard, all the more reason for her not to give a damn.

Still, she decided to humour her unfortunate stalker, turning around to face them, the expression on her face something between irritable and smug, one dark eyebrow arched and a very slight upturn of her lips.

The familiar mask that she was so used to wearing seemed to practically melt into nothing as she realised who the footsteps actually belonged to: Civilian. The man was dressed in his usual business casual, a pair of jeans and a white shirt, except this time, it was more of a shredded rag of blood-stained fabric than a shirt.

Scratches and bruises littered his face, dark crimson encrusted on the corner of his lips, and he was also sporting a black eye. Except the civilian was unfazed in the slightest, as though this was some sort of everyday occurrence. "I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," he remarked casually in response to the look of utter shock the villain had failed to hide, her eyes going wide.

"What happened?" she questioned, as the muscles of her face worked to pull it into a neutral expression.

The civilian snorted incredulously. "I skipped my skincare routine, so I don't look as pretty as usual," he retorted, his lips stretched into something between a smirk and a dark scowl.

This was the kind of insolence that the villain would kill people for, but Civilian had been sharp enough to notice he was an exception, an idea that was frankly poisonous to the villain. She wished to remind him exactly just how dangerous the game he was playing was, but in his current state, it really didn't seem like the time.

So, she simply ran a hand down her face exasperatedly, "Who did this to you?" she demanded, a slight edge of well-concealed anger to her tone that she knew the man would catch.

"What I did to him. You should've seen the other guy." He grit his bloodstained teeth in a feral grin, an expression the villain had never known he was capable of, thanks to his usually mild-mannered nature.

The villain sucked in a sharp breath, folding her arms across her chest. Whatever had warranted this kind of reaction from the civilian was definitely terrible.

Or maybe, if his words and cocky attitude weren't misplaced, this was an indication that the man was a lot more dangerous than he'd seemed, and she just wasn't entirely pleased with that conclusion.

"Alright, hotshot. What did you do?" she challenged, her own piercing blue eyes trained on the civilian's sage green ones, trying to stare through him as though he was no more than a sheet of paper, as though something in his resolve would crumble.

It was the civilian's turn to take in a heavy, measured breath, his gaze refusing to meet the villain's. He seemed almost lost, for lack of a better word, worrying his lip between his teeth, his smug attitude crumbling incredibly fast. "I- killed him," he admitted, trying hard to hide the solemness in his tone with a matter-of-fact intonation, a poor cover-up he failed to paint over the nervousness.

The civilian was never the type to take risks. Before he'd met the villain, he was as cautious as could be, a normal man with a normal job who lived in a very normal neighbourhood. Or that was what the criminal had took him for at first, until she'd found out that this was merely the tip of the iceberg. The civilian had gotten tired of trying to glaze over every side of him with well-fabricated normalcy.

But to confess to murder? That was lightyears away from "trying to change things", from driving a little faster than he was used to or any of the new things he'd done after he'd known her. If there was any shred of his old self, of any basic common sense, he should've already noticed by now that there was a great chance he'd ruined his life, shredded it to pieces.

"Why?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, instinctually feeling like she would despise his answer.

This time, there was no hesitation in the civilian's tone. "He said he'd go after you. Said he'd hurt you, and I wasn't giving him that chance. Consider it my bloody love letter," he half-snarled, his fists clenched and the muscles of his face taut with conviction.

The villain tried for a few false starts, only for nothing to come out, her lips left parted in surprise. 

At that, the civilian's expression softened into something she'd never seen before, into something she realised she wished to see more often, something that lit up his features beautifully. 

The civilian was a good-looking man, in a strangely dishevelled sort of way. Dark, wind-ruffled hair with very slight flecks of grey and unwaveringly bright tourmaline eyes that never seemed to dim no matter how exhausted he was. Surprisingly, the crimson streaked across his face seemed to highlight the high-set cheekbones; somehow rendering his current frazzled state even more beautiful than what he usually looked like.

And the realisation that she found the civilian attractive seemed to hit her like a freight train, as did any wave of strong emotion she wasn’t accustomed to. Still, the lingering tension in the air as he crossed the distance between them was very palpable.

“I love you.” The soft smile he gave her at her expression of surprise was equal parts cruel as it was kind. The villain had never been the oblivious one, the shocked audience of a plot twist. So openly vulnerable with someone who downplayed his own cleverness more often than not as a protective tactic.

But she wasn’t exactly sure she hated it. Quite the contrary. She’d evaluated their relationship as that of two unlikely friends aware of each other’s attractiveness and no more, something surface-level and entertaining, but she’d come to realise in that moment, that she’d been wrong. 

“I love you too,” she offered as the civilian’s surprisingly warm fingers skirted across her hand, and Villain tentatively got closer, her lips pressed to his jawline, almost fitting there perfectly. She didn’t mind the blood on her mouth, she probably didn’t even notice as the civilian pulled away for a moment, her breath catching in her throat until he got closer again, a soft, almost high-pitched laugh of euphoria escaping his lips as they made contact with the crown of her hair, velvet-soft and blissfully cool against her skin.  

“Do you trust me enough to let me take you home so I can fix you up?” she asked.

He pulled away again, a wild, wolfish look in his eyes. “You know, I didn’t even need a knife to kill him,” he answered cryptically, except between the two of them, this was a clear enough response.

✨Timeskip✨

"Just one more left," she said placatingly.

"Well it burns," he hissed, pulling himself away from the cloth soaked in antiseptic near his face, and yet he made absolutely no effort to stop her from pushing him down on her lap again, unless you considered a petulant mock-pout an effort.

"I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," the criminal replied swiftly, quoting him from earlier with her lip curling upwards subtly as she wiped away the last of the blood and dirt on him. The civilian looked significantly younger with all the gunk off, the white hairs seeming to have shown up prematurely, with him being so stressed half the time.

Except right now, he sported a lazy half-smile, looking at her admiringly through half-lidded eyes, lashes so enviously long they fell against his cheek when he blinked. He lifted himself upright, easily pulling her into his lap and tracing the shape of her cheekbone with his finger and then slowly kissing it. "It's never been fair, how gorgeous you've always looked, but now that you're mine, maybe it is, only slightly more just," he crooned, kissing the other cheek with a haunting gentleness that made it seem impossible that he could've killed someone, but with enough passion to prove the previous assumption incorrect.

The villain hummed thoughtfully, pulling him even closer somehow and running her fingers through his hair, smooth like strands of silk now that he'd showered. She felt him shiver, knowing full-well he was touch-starved, "It's alright. You'll get used to it."

"I will," he replied with a smirk, except he leaned further into the touch as she ran her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders, still unaccustomed but the small smile on his lips as he closed his eyes indicated his approval of the touch.

Love is not as concrete as we like to believe. It is certainly senseless to try and learn the exact mechanisms of it because only a fool would wish to learn of something that does not exist and never could. And sure, it is a terrifying product of fate, an outcome of a game where you can only control half of the moves, but still, love is such an awfully human quality; just as wild, just as unpredictable and just as beautiful. It holds the power to draw blood, to start fires but also to bring the taste of euphoria to your lips better than any drink or drug could ever hope to.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @whatiswhumpblog @ghostofnorth

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

#villain x civilian #ok so I'm sorry college has been destroying me quite literally #proper sleep schedule? #never heard of her #fluff #snippet #random people to lovers lol #romance #hero x villain #natalia's writing #female writers #writers on tumblr #tw blood #tw murder mention #villain caretaker x civilian whumpee #fiction #m/f #damn this is a sexy dynamic #whump #prompt #also read the cruel prince #it's amazing #I hope you like this thing aurora #villain/civilian #heroes and villains community

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Request:  fuegoleon nsfw fic with wife s/o who's really hot? Fuego has been really busy with work lately and s/o feels neglected and sadly tells him one day that she's the only one who wants him but he doesn't want her? And it kinda hits a switch in fue, because he just can't fathom his wife thinking that HE doesn't want her, and he goes feral? Overstim, breeding kink, Dom!Fuego Lots of adorable aftercare too of you're okay with it🥰

A/N: Hiya! I got immersed into this while writing it, and it’s not 100% on with her telling him that she’s the only one wanting him, but the theme is there. This is also the hardest smut I’ve written to this day, I think, because while my Fuelara smut has been longer and more romantic, this is harder. Anyways, I do hope that you like it. And now I need a cold shower 🥵

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader (written in 1st person POV)

Fanfic type: Oneshot

Genre: Smut, hurt-comfort

Length: ~3.0k

Warnings: smut, cunnilingus (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, no mention of birthcontrol, overstimulation (reader receiving), breeding kink, one mention of face fucking but no actual act, implied cervix fucking, crude language (”fuck me”), reader and Fue and married (established relationship), Fue says “I love you” mid act, Dom!Fue, aftercare minors DNI

It’s quiet. Well, if you don’t count the crickets. A part of me is surprised that there are already crickets at this time of the year, even if the summer is warm, which is why I have the window open in the first place. And another part of me is still glad that I can still hear them.

Another, much smaller, part. The part is muffled under the sigh that leaves my lips in an effort to relieve the restlessness in my body. But even if I wandered off from the open window, I’d find my way back to it soon enough I’m sure. Because the cool night air feels as if a caress against my skin.

A caress… that I crave for. The caress that I’ve longed for… for too many nights.

They say that the time your relationship is passionate is short, a few months, a year if you’re lucky, and then it starts to die down. I suppose I should say that I am luckier than most people then, granted that it took so long for us to get to this place. We had a good run… But that makes is sound like we would be heading for a divorce, which is far from the truth.

It’s not… bad… our relationship. It’s just more like a partnership. A business deal. And I could certainly do a lot worse, which argues against divorce.

Plus… I still love him.

And I hope… I hope that he still loves me. He says that he does, but the lack of touch, more than the generic hand on the shoulder in passing, speaks a different tale.

I hope that he loves me… and I hope that he still wants me.

There’s a thought that occurs to me, a very distasteful thought that makes me nauseous for a passing second.

But I know that he’s not the kind of a man to cheat on his wife. He’s not the type of a person to go behind one’s back and seek comfort in the arms of another.

I still love, and trust, my husband.

He’s simply a busy man, that’s all. And he is busy. There is a lot on his shoulders. I want to trust that, that’s all there is to it. I want to believe that he’s just tired… But there is not even a gaze to my direction anymore. Before, his busy schedule didn’t stop us. Though a long, sweaty night, or just a few hours of passionate, romantic love making was preferrable, a quicky was never out of the question.

And I swear, all the times I went down on him in his office, behind his desk, despite him feeling conflicted about doing such a thing in his office, he loved it. The way he smile, and the glimmer in his eyes told me that he drank it up like a starving man.

Besides, he never seemed all that … un-eager to do so. If anything, he seemed more concerned about my integrity than anything else. But we were married, and me going down on my husband was far from a scandalous thing. Though the rumours, and the noble circles might blow it out of proportions for some time, who cares? They can blow it out, and I can simply blow my husband.

Come to think of it…. How long has it been since the last time I went down on him?

How long ago was it that I last… satisfied myself?

It doesn’t feel right doing so in our bed, when he’s in deep slumber right there. And he could walk in on me in the shower, though I suppose that’s just wishful thinking.

I no longer know. All I do know is that it’s been long… far too long… And I have to wonder if he really does want me anymore… Because… though I’m only a few years younger than he is, maybe my body has changed away from his liking. Maybe I’m not… firm enough, perky enough, thin enough… Though I don’t think I have changed all that much since we met.

I… think…?

I don’t think I have changed that much. But maybe that’s just him losing his rose coloured glasses.

Maybe…

I sight to myself again as the loneliness I feel wraps around me as if a blanket, but that blanket just makes the warmth between my legs intensify and a knot form into my lower stomach which is trying to grasp onto something that isn’t there.

The door opens and closes behind me, and I hear another heavy sigh.

“My love? You didn’t need to stay up and wait for me,” his tone is warm and caring, but it is also tired.

I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame him for being tired.

“I know….” I tell him as I walk away from the window and closer to him with my arms wrapped around myself, pressing the silken fabric of my nightgown against my skin even tighter. “And I know that you’re tired, but… there’s… something I want to talk to you about,” I admit, because this has gone for long enough. And there seems to be no end in sight to his schedule, so this night is as good as any.

“What is it?” He asks, and the question is fair. It’s frank, on point, and it is fair.

“I’ve… been… I’ve been wondering if…” I glance at the ceiling, because though this is hard, it’s a lot harder than I think. Because I don’t want to admit that I feel neglected. I don’t want to admit that I feel a yearning for him, even if I do. Though some time back I wouldn’t have as much as blinked about telling him that I want him.

Because I did. I do… I do want him.

“Yes?” His eyes are full of worry. There is a small frown on his face as he stands there, so close to me.

I can feel his warmth radiating through the air, and I can smell the faint scent of his lavender hair oil.

By gods how I miss that scent… I miss busying my nose into those auburn locks as his hands run over my body and I… miss him moving over mine, under mine… in mine…

I miss… him. All of him…

“Tell me, what’s wrong,” he implores again, this time with a tone that is both concerned and unwavering. He wants to know. He wants to know, because he cares. I know as much.

But it doesn’t make it any easier. However, regardless of whether it’s easy or not, I need to tell him. This is something that just needs to be discussed.

“I…” I utter while looking to the side. “I know that you’ve been busy lately, but I’ve…” I trail off again, because though that’s true, it’s only loosely connected to what I want to say.

So, I take a deep breath, and swallow, before whispering: “Do you… still… want me…?”

He takes a moment. But the moment, which must be no longer than a few seconds, feels much, much longer. It feels like an hour, a day, one fifth of an eternity.

“Do I still… want you?”

There is amusement in his tone. It is disbelieving amusement. It sounds like the question is absurd to him. Much more than to me.

“My love… Every night that you’re not next to me, I ache for you. Every day I long for you. And… I know that I’ve been tied to my job far too much as of late, it’s every day that I find myself craving for you.”

He takes a step closer to me. The warmth radiating through the air grows stronger, and I can hear his breathing growing lower, heavier… louder.

His hands take a hold of me…

“I crave… for you…” he whispers like sin, like the words that drip from his lips would be sweet like honey, decadent and filled with lust that he is feeling, just as me.

I turn to look at him, and I press closer to him, but that’s the last thing I realize before finding myself on our bed.

His frame, which is much broader than mine, is over me. His eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, seem dark, like velvet, but the spark cast by the light of his flames, makes him seem hungry. It tastes like passion, feels like lust, and sounds decadent, like sin itself.

But I don’t mind the sin, not if it’s him.

I don’t mind the way he rips off my nightgown with an apology.

“I’ll buy you a new one…” he half whispers, half growls.

But I don’t mind.

I most certainly don’t mind.

I don’t mind as he pressed his head between my legs, and licksssss…

But it’s just a tiny, little kitten lick with the tip of his tongue.

I can still feel his breath gliding over me, over my clit, over my folds and his right there! But all he does is make the little lick that doesn’t satiate my hunger.

“Please…” I utter, but that’s when I realize that he’s just admiring me, because…

“You look gorgeous from every angle,” he tells me before pressing his mouth against my lower set of lips.

And he is hungry.

His tongue dances around, dips inside of and swirls around as my walls try to hold onto him. I try and I try as I clench the sheets in my fists. It’s been so long, and it feels so good… The way his tongue moves in and out and around in me…

And I want him in!

“Please!” I cry out to him and all he does is press his face harder against my folds as his fingers press harder against the tender flesh of my ass.

He hums, sending vibrations through me, and that’s when my toes curl and I see stars.

But that’s not enough for him.

I can feel his tongue licking around everything that flowed out of me with my orgasm, as he’s casing another high of mine.

His nose is pressed against my clit, and occasionally he flicks it with his tongue. And every time he does, I can’t help but mewl at him. Be-cause! Because… I need him, I want him, inside of me!

And his tongue isn’t enough. It is just not enough!

“Honey! I want-,” I manage through my pants, and I’m sure he can hear the desperation as my legs tremble. As they shake under him.

He lifts his head, and my hips jerk up, as if they’d crave for the touch as much as I do, and my legs open wider for him. Which makes his eyes glance down to my trembling, wet core, and then to my eyes as a smirk, a proud, grinning smirk frames those purple eyes that look like lust and velvet.

“I can’t… take this teasing anymore,” I tell him as my body is already on edge from the stimulation.

“Well…” he utters, looking pleased, and a bit smug, I have to admit. But then again he has every right to look as smug as he does, because he just make me cum for the 4th time tonight. “If you so wish,” he continues as he climbs on top of me and takes off his pants.

His cock is hard. It’s pointing upwards and the tip is oozing with precum.

It is twitching.

And it takes everything in my not to crawl down, shift down under him, against the sheets, and engulf that cock into my mouth.

He has never, properly, fucked my face, and he probably wouldn’t because he prefers me to be able to breathe. But if I did, that’d probably be the closest we’d get to it.

It might be, but I don’t have time to think about it more, as his cock is already sliding over my wet slit effortlessly, teasing my sensitive bundle.

I moan, and I gasp, but not in the way I would if he had inserted it.

He’s teasing me more, and as much as I love it, I hate it. Because this isn’t-, it’s not what I-

I don’t use crude vocabulary in bed. I don’t curse. And I’m bad at dirty talk, but…

“Fuck me,” I tell him.

His eyes open wider. He seems surprised by my words. But the surprise is quickly overtaken by more amusement.

“Breed me!” I tell him.

And he chuckles. He chuckles, but there is devilish intent in those eyes that stare down at me.

“You wish my seed to paint your insides that badly?” He asks with a smirk, and he has every right to smirk.

“Yes.”

And then he pushes in. With one. Swift. Motion.

My back arches, and I see stars again as I cum.

And through the white noise, through the sound of blood rushing in my ears, I hear him chuckle with a pleased sound. He is pleased. Because the way he has stimulated my body to this point, made it possible for me to cum with just him inserting himself inside of me.

“I’m going to cum inside of you,” he tells me, and I love that he tells me, that he whispers it against my ear with that low, sultry voice of his. “And then I’m going to…” he pauses, to choose the words, but instead of what I might expect, he chooses the words, the crude words that I chose a moment before. “I am going to… fuck you, with my sperm still inside of you.”

And by the gods, this man, this man who is my husband, who has talked so eagerly about starting a family with me, is driving me to oblivion in the best possible way.

He pushes in, and out, and in and out and I… loose track of how many times I cum. But when he pushes down once, and hard, and warmth spreads within me, the corners of my lips tug up because I know that he came.

He came and he’s still in me, plugging me up so that all of his seed stays inside of me.

“And now, my love…” he murmurs against my ear as his hand settles onto my cheek.

He lowers down, and pressed a kiss onto my lips. One, hard, passionate kiss…

And then his hand trails down to my neck… his big, broad hand that could wrap around my neck effortlessly… It trails down, and down, and down, until he scoops my legs and he presses me into a breeding press.

“I’m going to rid any loneliness from you,” he promises as his hips pump up. And. Down.

His hips slap against mine, as he pins me down. And his cock reaches all the way to my cervix. It’s like he wants to give it a French kiss.

And he can. He can. He can, he can, he can…

My walls clench around him, and I can feel my fluids mixing together with his between our legs. The damp, sticky feel that I don’t mind.

I don’t mind.

I don’t think to mind.

Because I’m focused on every groove, every vein of his cock as he slams in, and out, and back in me again. The way my body clenches around him, trying to keep a hold of him. Desperately tries to embrace him as he slides out, and then back to me again.

Drool drips from the side of my face as my eyes roll back, and all I can think is the building ecstasy in me.

His breathing rings next to my ear, and it’s growing unsteady. And still…

“I love you…” he murmurs, nearly growls as he slams his hips against mine for one… last, time, pressing himself against my cervix.

My toes curl, and my fingers press against the skin of his back so hard as I scream out his name while coming undone under him.

I can feel my body twitching from the pure bliss. Trying to clasp onto him again. But I’m also growing relaxed as I’m coming around from the orgasm.

He pulls out and lays down next to me as his fingers trail over my skin with a feather light touch. His eyes are on me, looking around, trying to spot any signs of discomfort while simultaneously admiring me.

I turn to my side while catching my breath, and snuggle close to him, against his chest.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks as his fingers draw circles onto my back; his words cascading onto me like a dawn, like silk and every good thing in the world.

“Yes,” I tell him, while still trying to gasp for air, but there is a smile on my face.

He leans down to place a kiss onto my head before laying down properly next to me, head on the pillow. His eyes are still looking over me, but now the gaze is filled with almost only admiration, no searching for signs of discomfort. Because there aren’t any.

Only those of fulfilment.

He still loves me, and wants me. Just as I still love and want him.

And even when I close my eyes, I can still feel him lying there, his hand carefully tracing over my skin. He’s so close, so very close that I can almost feel his heart beating for me through the air.

But the thing is, I know that it’s there without feeling it. I had simply forgotten it. I had forgotten how he, how this stern, loyal, loving and caring man is when he is in love.

Now I remember, and I never intend to forget again.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover smut #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fuegoleon smut #steamy #I'll go fan myself for a while now

[emiwrites3reads]

I saw a clip of Neil doijg kiss marry kill, and it gave me a short fic idea. Tav, who I’m calling Raven in this is from our universe. Astarion knows this and she is telling him about it and the game kiss marry kill comes up.

Kiss, marry, kill

Astarion x reader/tav

- no smut, just fluff.

———

It was a cold, chilly night. Raven had never camped before and now, she had camped more than ever. The ground wasn’t the worst, but her fear of bugs did keep her up some nights, thinking a minor itch was a tick or some curious spider. Did the others think like that?

She got up and out of her bed roll, noticing astarion was gone. She stood up and walked over to where scratch had been sleeping, right under the canopy of a tree. She petted his head and looked up seeing the pale elf returning from the forest.

“Oh. I didn’t expect you to be up” he said slightly startled.

“Couldn’t sleep” she said, pausing from petting scratch but the white dog whined in return. “God he reminds me of my dog. I miss her.”

“What is this… other universe your from like?” He said coming over, and leaning agasint a tree. His eyes were fixed on her, instead of the usual farting around, as if he was a feral cat. He seemed to of gotten more comfortable in her presence.

“It’s… extremely different. There’s so much to explain that you wouldn’t even believe” she said as she sat down next ti the dog.

“Well, then try” he said.

“Uhh well, here, the idea of fun and free time is different. It’s going to the tavern, reading, or doing something outside” she started. Astarion moved to sit by her. “There, sure some people do that, but… there’s video games, television, cell phones, board games, and a lot more.”

“I only understood like half of that.” He stated.

“I figured, see?” She chuckled.

“You coukd show me” he said.

“A lot of it we can’t do here, hell, even board games. I mean there’s these stupid little games like spin the bottle, truth or dare, and kiss marry kill, but it’s not entertaining if there’s only two people.” She chuckled.

“Well, kiss marry kill sounds fun” astarion grinned. “Does it involve murder?”

She laughed, shaking her head slightly in disbelief, “no it’s, of a group of people, you choose who you would kiss, who you would marry, and who you would kill. You don’t actually do it.”

“Well that’s stupid if you don’t actually get to do it” he said frustrated. Raven fell silent for a moment as she turned to the camp, the rest of their companions sleeping so soundly, it was a rare sight. The peace.

“Okay okay, let’s just… try it then” she said. “And this is all just for fun, so out of our companions, who would you kiss, marry, and kill.”

“Can I choose the same perosn for two of them?” He asked.

“Nope” she said.

“Fine” he scoffed, “well I’ll obviously kill Gale. That’s easy no doubt.”

“You really don’t like Gale do you?” Raven said, glancing at the sleeping wizard, oblivious to the vampire talking about murdering him.

“And… we’ll I certainly can’t kiss Karlach, so, I’ll pick Wyll” he saidz

“Wyll? Why Wyll?” She leaned back against the white dog.

“Heroic types can be annoying but he seems like a good kisser” he hummed.

Raven showed fake offense, “what? I wasn’t good enough?”

“Oh hush, you didn’t let me get to marry” he grinned. “Obviously I’ll choose Lae’zael.”

“Well then I’m marrying Gale, kissing wyll, and killing Lae’zel” she sajd.

“Really? Gale?” He said, “then I guess I’ll have to rethink marrying you.”

“What happened to Lae’zel” she said

“You killed her!” He said before Raven and astarion started laughing.

Raven stood up, “I’m gonna get some sleep. Maybe I’ll be able to show you my universe sometime.”

“Maybe” astarion said, watching Raven walk away and lay back down.

#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3

[bunji-enthusiast]

Well. Let’s do this again. As I said I’m not sure if you would do this now, (since it is from when you did poppy stuff, you said you were didn’t want to do anything with at the moment at a previous time )It’s also a bit more… out there than what others have requested.

So to the request itself. This request centers around dogday and a very interesting idea.

Their is reader type thing present but they act more as a player stand in and observer than their more central role in other request stories.

The gist of things: the cutouts for the smiling critters have small hints in them that there is a chance some of them are still alive. The candidates are Bobby bearhug, crafty corn, picky piggy and slightly more unlikely hoppy hopscotch.

Bobby seems to be lost in hers and there is no confirmation of her status.

Crafty is actually not the one who dies in hers, she attacked someone else, (if you pay close attention you can hear her speak at the end)

Picky’s status is also unknown. However she is likely almost completely feral and insane if she is still alive.

There is an absolutely insane possibility that would be a complete shock if it was actually true. Which is that hopscotch is Ollie. It is possible that Ollie is short for Olivia and not Oliver which could be hoppy’s human name.

This scenario centers on dogday and the player/reader stumbling upon some of them alive deep within the factory. The ones I think would be most interesting would be crafty and bearhug.

Some scenarios to help you.

For crafty corn I imagine them finding her while heading through a maintenance area. They would stumble first into a dead mini critter. Then as they round into a room they find crafty having just finished a fight with several mini critters. Crafty here would be slightly crazy and unhinged. No longer afraid but also more dangerous, Yet still sane enough to recognize an old friend and not attack them immediately.

And now with Bobby they would find her wandering lost and alone, terrified out of her mind. Jumping at every shadow and constantly shivering. In her mind she is practically begging to find someone not a foe, someone sane, someone to tell her that everything she sees is even real, that she’s even still alive. When she sees dogday she may try poking him at first just to make sure she’s not hallucinating.

Both of them quite worse for wear just like dogday but they are definitely still alive.

The heart of this idea is how dogday would react. To know that the friends he thought he lost, even if just some of them, even if soruffled and broken, are still them. To see he hadn’t failed, yet also how much they had suffered while was trapped, unable to do anything. The hope In seeing them still alive, the regret in not being there to help. Perhaps even some shame in the fact they had to se their sun, their fearless Leader, fallen so far. How they react to his actions and words.

Again a bit out there but still a quite good idea. Again not sure if you are interested but it’s an idea at least.

Old Friends, Once Again

Note || this is such an elaborate idea! Thank you for sending it in again. I’m hoping my writing still works okay haha.

WC || 2,025

One thing in the world, if he had admitted that he truly despised it, was failure.

Failure, failure, FAILURE.

DogDay knew what a terrible leader he was, yet he was still smiled upon by those of his friends from the past. Ghosts haunting him like a ravenous wasteland, aching and hungry to devour the once cheerful DogDay whole. He didn’t want to see it all, yet for the sake of his angel, you, he had to pull through. You made the effort to save him, Poppy was relieved to see him, that it was in your stead that he had actually survived. 

Fate grinned down upon him, wounds tearing his will apart, stitching all back together again. Despite how much his body – though fabricated – had screamed at him to stop moving, and rest. Time would not allow him to rest, time would not slow down and wait for him. 

The factory was so worn down, devoid of that life that filled this place with color, his friends that had given him purpose; was gone. There was no guarantee that he would be able to find them alive, least of all after a decade’s worth of torture by the popular populace of rulers. 

A hierarchy would be more supposedly accurate, thorough enough to destroy his will of iron. Though fabricated, he held out a glimmer of hope in some way. No matter how distressing it may be with all that he has experienced through his years of a tortuous desolate factory. Soon enough it was alleviated, but now he was afraid whatever peace he may find will not be enough to allow him to trudge forward in the darkness. 

“DogDay?” You spoke out, raising a brow. He hummed in response, wisps of white sliding down from within his eye sockets to display his attention. “Are you alright, you’ve been out of it for some time now.”

He nods in reassurance, to delay his expression so as he wouldn’t incite worry from you. You’ve already done so much for him in grand gestures and small ones alone, DogDay simply wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. Going through the factory however seemed to be so tortuous and long, but he didn’t mind so long as he wasn’t alone, though he figured he fully deserved it after the sins he had committed. 

Such as; Arrogant, bastard, grand leader, behemoth is DogDay. 

By now, he has the vague yet reinforced idea that all his friends are dead. Coming across Bobby was the last thing he expected to happen, his dear old friend. What had happened to her, what had become of her in the last ten years? Dearly departed, wasn’t departed, not now and not ever. Her kind demeanor was ruined by the years, having to fight off and fend for herself. 

For one she was so adorable and kind, affectionate and loved giving out hugs. Genuinely willing to ‘do some obligatory lovin’ for those that are desperately in need of such a thing. Bobby was one of his friends, and sometimes he was the victim of her affections, he didn’t mind it. He just didn’t realize how much he was going to miss it. 

Whoever she is, Bobby is a shell of her former self. Desolate and desperate to find any living beings that aren’t hallucinations. 

The pair continued walking, without only any ramification or reason. Just trying to get to the next desired destination, and in doing so hoping not to run into any trouble. “Angel, I think we are almost there.” You looked up and saw where DogDay had looked, seeing what he had meant. Truly you two were closer than ever now, simply within the area – are you so close. 

Thump!

You raise a brow, hearing a very resolute sound. This wasn’t an ordinary or normal sound, this was new and it gave you the feeling of danger that is coming. 

Thump! THUMP!

“Get behind me.” His voice came out, sounding shaky as he was forced to steel himself with false resolve. Fake it till you make it, was his main earnest of thinking until one truly is out of the situation. You understood, and right away had hid yourself behind him, prepared to jump out and injure the incoming enemy. DogDay’s hand raised, instinctively trying to cover and protect you. His brows furrowed with sweat, something he didn’t realize his body was capable of producing. 

No matter, there was a problem coming in the way, he was going to resolve it. Even if it was at the expense of his own life, he still was going to deal with it.

You peek out moderately from behind, seeing a shadow outline reminiscent of a very tall bear. For a moment, it struck with a memory of a familiar friend. Next thing you knew, everything else happened quickly. The enemy appeared, attacking the both of you. DogDay subdued the rampant living being immediately, a gasp of surprise left his mouth. Fur colored with red, injuries scarring the body, and that red heart necklace.

“Bobby?”

“...DogDay?”

DogDay came off from Bobby, re-adjusting himself and helping up his old friend. He didn’t expect her out of all toys to actually be alive, he assumed it as a possibility, but this was certainly a surprise for the old leader of the smiling critters. 

You were used to the situation quickly, going to sit down and deciding to not interrupt their reunion. However unsettling the circumstances of it allowed to come be.

DogDay was struck with a sense of guilt immediately, worry marring his still face. For once, he was unusually truly at a loss for words. Bobby wasn’t sure whether or not if he was a hallucination, if she just bumped into something instead. The red bear poked DogDay, which pulled him from his train of thought. “You-...” She paused, “your real?” She says finally, hesitation laced within her words. He nods mournfully, feeling sad knowing the state Bobby is in. 

“Yes old friend,” He replied, “What has become of you?” DogDay leads her into a state of sitting, to ease her out of her suspicious daze. Bobby was unsure herself, not knowing what to say, she actually met someone – alive and well, not really – but that someone was DogDay. 

Suddenly DogDay was enveloped in a warm sensation, feeling Bobby’s arms wrap around his torso. For a moment, he was hesitant to reciprocate the hug, but DogDay urged himself to do so mentally and returned it. 

He was unsure of what to do from here, DogDay was not the leader he used to be. 

Far from it. 

DogDay had directed Bobby to a place, somewhere safer and hidden from the eyes of the Prototype. Once he had distinctly remembered that he had only seen a glimpse of his hand, but ever so diligent was the Prototype because anyone he knew has never seen him fully in form. 

The belt-bound dog could see the look in her eyes, though how motionless one’s face can be – this was evident with Bobby. As she changed, so did DogDay, and he desperately hated that look in her eyes. 

He reassured her that this was not her battle, rather his burden to take on. For all those years ago he should’ve been more watchful, of all of his friends. DogDay had felt despair in seeing her in that state that she is in now. 

DogDay wanted to bring her along, but you had suggested she rest and stay somewhere safer. And within the possibilities she may not be in the best mental state to assist in your cause, and he had figured you to be right. But now the important thing was going to the maintenance room, certainly there wouldn’t be another to approach the two of you. 

“The room’s just up ahead, be prepared.” 

You spoke with a nervousness that had worried DogDay; but he was your protector, your friend, your companion. He wasn’t gonna go back on his word, moreover simply stick with you till the end in any case. Feeling more in control, he nodded in respite, nerves shot with pre-adrenaline. DogDay didn’t want to find another foe, and had only hoped it would be nothing – and they could continue onward in their hard-earned journey. 

“Behind me, please.” DogDay involuntarily flinched, not wanting the perpetrator to aim for you first. He could sense someone up ahead in the maintenance room, carefully, he trudged forward and did his best to walk out the way of debris. Body rigid in plain fear, though he did his best to drown out that fear. 

You walked behind him, taking a stance as if you were ready to attack. 

Suddenly a small smiling critter had scattered away, straight away from the awry dankness of the entrance. You couldn’t even discern which one it was, it was far too quick. DogDay looked back at you, somehow mirroring your own expression. Whatever that was just now was rather concerning, and indistinguishable. But absolutely one thing was clear, there was danger ahead. 

The two of you tittered forward, and reached the entrance, slowly you two had taken your time. Barely lights had illuminated the room, followed by the blue hour light that had helped in your perception of the environment. 

Clank!

His head swiveled to discover the source of someone else in the maintenance room, DogDay’s fur was standing on ends. Wisps of white sliding down as his eyes slid over the current state of the room, seeing that the certain person appeared to be injured. They were shivering, large hands clutching a weapon with the strength they had left. 

For a moment, he swore he saw a flash of rainbow. A necklace, hanging off the neck of the other body in the room. 

“W-who, who are you?” Their voice came out strained and breathy, still sounding incredibly familiar. DogDay’s hand raised to cover you protectively, in spite of the hand blocking your vision, you pieced together the mysterious person before DogDay had. You were rather surprised he didn’t figure it out yet. In turn, DogDay replied within cautionary boundaries, stepping closer an inch each time.

“DogDay–” He says, having no hope that the mystery person knew who he was. Yet a sudden gasp had left them, leaving him in surprise as the person stepped out into the clear and vivid light. 

“...”

His eyes widened in expressed silence, both hands raising (albeit shaking at the same time), as he had tried to process this new reveal. 

The unicorn was marred with injuries, stuffing laying around her. No doubt that would explain the tiny smiling critter that had just run out the entrance of the maintenance room earlier some time ago, for you at least, the two others before you were old friends. Reunited in circumstances no one person had wished for, this dank dark factory filled with death and blood. 

“It’s you, really you?” DogDay’s shoulders slumped in previous posterity at the sound of her voice, suddenly feeling defeated. He fell to the floor, which had shocked Crafty, causing her to help him into a proper position. “You’ve fallen.” She says flatly, trying to incite some sort of reaction from her former leader and long-time friend. 

He chuckled warmly, vocal cords cracked with worn out experience. “I admit my friend,” He then pauses, taking a long and slow deep breath, “I am not who I used to be.” The large dog then began to gesture toward you, who was slumped against the wall and watching the pair. 

“But a dear angel had saved me from my cell,” He says, with a tone of warmth you rarely ever heard coming forth from him. Craftycorn had looked at you, waving with excited bounciness, happy to find friends rather than foes.  

You waved awkwardly as the attention was brought upon you, letting out a small, “Hello.”

DogDay wasn’t ready for what had happened now, two old friends in one night. How curious must that be? Fate smiled fortuitously upon him, elated as can be to present him with another painful memory. Living and breathing, definitely worse for wear.

#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #poppy playtime dogday #bobby bearhug #craftycorn

[alleiwentcrazy]

Eddie Munson finds great joy in collecting strays. That’s obvious.

With people, it’s quite pronounced. He treats the word “freak” like an acclaimed royal title, not some low insult. Eddie loves his freaks – he treats them with care, understanding and unmistakable devotion, always offering some sort of safe haven and an outlet for both their sadness and glee. Everyone who knows Eddie knows that.

It’s a bit less pronounced with other creatures. Although Eddie’s adventures with wild, sometimes even feral (or simply interdimensional) animals still present a sore spot for him, he’s never stopped caring about them and trusting them. Eddie has a whole clowder of half-domesticated cats wandering around the fields behind his trailer at all times, because he can’t seem to accept the fact that it’s impossible to efficiently help each and every one of them just like that. Sometimes their constant presence, walls-scratching and low mewling spawns some unwanted pictures and dreams in Eddie’s head, but he will never admit to that.

What’s even less obvious—even to Eddie himself, it seems—is that his relationship with all kinds of strays is, more or less, a two-way street.

Eddie takes after his strays more than he’s aware of. For example, he’s just a little more sarcastic when he’s back from hanging out with Max. He’s a little more excited about basketball when he picks up Lucas after his practice, even though he considers himself a sports’ sworn enemy. He’s a little more tentative and reflective when he gives El some advice about regrowing her hair, because he’s well-versed with how much of a pain in the ass it can be. And so on, and so forth.

It’s the same with his cats. He takes after them a lot.

Usually, it’s Steve who notices it first. He’s also the one who falls victim to Eddie’s cat-like habits.

*

The first time it happens, they’re “studying” for Eddie’s exams. He’s been forced to retake his senior year once again, but this time he’s doing everything in his power to get through it unscathed. Usually Nancy plays the role of his tutor, but Steve takes over when she can’t make it. He’s more like moral support than anything else, since Eddie studies best when he has someone to talk to, and Steve isn’t too confident about his academic skills to really tutor him, so he’s just happy to help and listen.

But it’s starting to get late, he had a morning shift and he’s finding it hard to fight off the drowsiness, especially because Eddie’s voice is deep, raspy and warm, and it makes him feel like he’s listening to some type of bedtime story.

“...so that’s why, I think, trig kinda sucks. But I’m getting the hang of it, I guess?”

He barely registers the meaning of the sentence. He’s so comfortable sitting under the blanket on Eddie’s bed everything loses importance. Moving his mouth seems to be an impossible task, so Steve just hums. When he cracks one eye open, Eddie’s looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“I’ll make some coffee,” he says, but Steve doesn’t even see him leave. He slides down and buries his face in the pillows.

He knows when Eddie comes back because the smell of coffee infiltrates his sleepy haze, but doesn’t motivate him enough to get up.

“Budge up,” he hears. Then a hand squeezes his shoulder, so he moves closer to the wall with a whine, squishing his cheek further into the pillow. Something warm settles beside him and he thinks, simply, that it’s really pleasant to be this cozy and comfortable before he drifts off for good.

When he opens his eyes in the morning, he’s welcomed by a very curious sight.

Eddie Munson sleeps like a cat.

He’s lying on his back, long hair only slightly tangled where it’s splayed over the pillow. When sunrays hit his face, he instinctively turns his head in the right direction and Steve almost expects him to make a noise—a noise that would most probably remind him of purring. Eddie’s limbs are spread out all over the bed and his whole body seems to be twisted to the side, but he still takes up a lot less space than anticipated. His left hip is pressed to Steve’s right, but it’s the only point of connection between them.

Steve has seen this sleeping position only once, when he met Robin’s cat, Biscuit. Biscuit supposedly hates Robin, but somehow trusts Steve, because he sleeps with his tummy out when Steve’s around. Just like Eddie.

Steve raises his brow and looks at Eddie’s sunlit face again. He’s peaceful and relaxed, unbothered by the noises coming from outside. When the sun moves again, Eddie moves with it, pressing his bony hip a little closer to Steve’s.

That’s curious indeed. Steve doesn’t want to dwell on how it makes him feel at the moment, so he just looks. It’s quite a sight.

*

Weeks pass, Eddie’s peculiar habits get more and more frequent—or maybe after that one night spent at the trailer Steve’s just more focused on taking note of them. His hypothesis that Eddie’s a lot like his animal companions of choice is being confirmed time and time again, mostly when Eddie falls asleep.

After some time, Steve notices that on top of preferring weird sleeping positions, Eddie also makes a habit of seeking other people’s warmth whenever he wants to take a nap. Steve honestly doesn’t think it’s anything personal; Eddie will fall asleep on anyone’s shoulder if they let him, but he seems to have a preference. The preference being Steve.

When Robin tries to comment on that, Steve silences her. Half because he doesn’t want to confront that yet, half because he enjoys it and doesn’t want to spook Eddie away. Sue him if he likes being needed, right?

The only time he kind of regrets letting Eddie cling to him is when they go to the beach with the kids.

It’s not even a real beach, but they’re set on enjoying it as much as they can. Eddie takes his van, Nancy takes the wagon, they pack everyone inside and get the hell out of Hawkins for a full day. The weather is perfect, the grass is green and soft, the lake is nothing like Lover’s Lake at home. If only because there are no horrible memories attached.

Steve’s off babysitting duties when Nancy announces lunch, everyone wolfs down their sandwiches and lounges lazily around the lake in the scorching afternoon sun.

There aren’t many things Steve enjoys more than good sunbathing. At home, he can’t really do that anymore. He can’t stand the pool and the chlorine, he can’t stand the sound of unnatural sloshing of the water. It all makes his head spin and before he knows it, he’s back inside, fully dressed and calling Robin to ease the panic.

It’s different here. He lays down on his fluffy towel and enjoys the sun, listening to Dustin’s happy squeals and Lucas’ joyful giggling.

Until he has to hiss, because glacially cold droplets of water hit his sternum and a shadow obscures the light. When he opens his eyes, Eddie Munson grins at him despite the glare he’s being welcomed with.

“Hiya,” he says, shaking his head like a dog. Steve scowls some more. “Move over, beauty queen.”

“Don’t you have your own towel?” he grumbles, but makes space nonetheless, all while desperately trying not to catch Robin’s eyes at the same time.

Eddie plops down beside him, immediately making himself comfortable in the sparse space Steve has left him. “Yeah, but yours is better. And you wouldn’t starve a man of his rightful summer afternoon nap, would you, Stevie?”

Steve closes his eyes, not letting go of the frown. “Stop yapping or I’ll throw you into the water again.”

“Will you carry me to the shore princess style this time? Because—Hey!” He finally shuts up when Steve elbows him.

When Robin wakes him up again, Eddie’s on his side, so close to Steve he can feel his steady breaths on his shoulder. Eddie’s both arms are thrown over Steve’s chest—because of course, even his side sleeping must be cat-like.

“Wake up, tiger,” she says, barely holding back a smirk. Steve knows this face too well.

“What are you…” Robin points at the sun and then at his chest. Steve’s brain is still a little hazy from his nap, so it takes him a while to understand what she means. When it hits him, his eyes get so big Robin can’t contain herself anymore. She lets out a loud cackle that soon transforms into a full laughing fit. Steve can’t even blame her for it.

Eddie stirs beside him. Slowly, he sits up and yawns. While he’s rubbing his eyes, Steve looks down at his chest in agony. It’s all red and scorched – all, aside from two pale stripes where Eddie’s arms were lying across his skin.

He sighs at it in disbelief while Robin cackles some more.

*

Overall, Steve quickly finds out that he really doesn’t mind the fact that Eddie includes him in his every nap when they’re together. In fact, he learns that he enjoys it so much he can’t imagine napping all by himself at this point.

But it’s all okay. And it’s not that unusual, right? They’ve all gotten really close since Vecna—even Nancy and Robin have some kind of secret proximity contract going on between them, it seems. It’s the magic of shared trauma and shared secrets that keeps them together and pulls them closer to each other every day.

At least that’s how Steve explains it to himself. That’s how he explains the comfort and sense of safety he gets every time Eddie’s back is pressed to his chest, when they’re breathing evenly and in sync. That’s how he sees it when he absent-mindedly reaches for Eddie’s hand when they’re falling asleep on the Munsons’ worn-out sofa. That’s how he feels when Eddie’s arms pull him closer.

Deep down, he knows it’s not usual at all. He’s had enough dates and romances to recognize when things cross the line, but he purposefully closes his eyes to that for the time being, letting himself enjoy the comfort and the safety of it all.

He learns the hard way that while both him and Eddie decide to stay oblivious, not everyone else does. And the fact that they never talk about it doesn’t help.

As per usual, when their monthly movie night with Nancy and Robin – the original Upside Down Bat Squad – comes, Steve and Eddie squeeze themselves into one loveseat. Eddie’s head drops to Steve’s shoulder almost immediately and he folds himself into a small human ball, pressing his side to Steve and going to sleep instantly.

Steve would love to take a nap himself, but the movie is just interesting enough to keep him in the half-dazed lethargy between sleep and consciousness. When he finally drifts off, it’s not for long.

He opens his eyes again when he registers the sudden lack of warmth beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie leave through the glass door in his living room. He wants to call after him, but before he does, he finally notices the muffled talk in the corridor. Nancy’s voice cuts through the silence first.

“...yes, but isn’t it kind of… Strange for them to be like that without acknowledging it in any way?”

It’s quiet for a bit, as if the conversation is being actively processed by both participants. “You mean the, uh… The closeness, or…?” Robin tries to keep her voice steady and neutral, but her cover blows a little bit more with every word.

“Yes! You clearly can’t be this intimate with someone if you don’t care about them deeply. There’s always a reason to be so close to each other, right? And you’re Steve’s platonic soulmate, so it’s definitely not like that between them.”

So many things come to Steve’s mind so suddenly he has to close his eyes—things concerning not only him and Eddie, but also Nancy and Robin. Things they were all too blind to notice.

“You mean, um,” Robin swallows so loudly even Steve can hear it. “To be as close to each other… As we are, sometimes?”

He gets up, then, deciding that he’s heard enough. Robin will tell him everything either way.

When he opens the glass door and catches the sight of Eddie, sitting on one of the lawn chairs and smoking, he realizes that they’re both going to have a lot to confess to each other at work tomorrow.

He sits down on the chair next to Eddie’s and lets the silence envelop them for a second. Eddie passes him the cigarette and he takes a prolonged drag.

“Robin and Nance woke me up with their babbling. Sorry for waking you up too,” Eddie says without looking at him.

Steve doesn’t really know how to approach it. It would be difficult enough if only one or two of them were having a revelation this evening, but since it’s all of them—well, that complicates things. He’s only a little bit surprised that his revelation doesn't hurt him at all, though. It’s not making his stomach churn or his eyes water. He still feels safe within it. When he glances at Eddie again, he can’t help but hope, even though their situation has more layers than either of them has had a chance to discover.

“It’s alright,” he reassures, passing down the cigarette. “I wasn’t really sleeping.”

Something sour flashes on Eddie’s face, but it’s only temporary. He smiles again, then, although his eyes stay dim. “Bet you don’t get good sleep at all when I’m all over you.”

“Actually,” Steve says, making sure to time it perfectly. When he reaches out to take the cigarette from Eddie, he lets their fingers stay pressed together for long enough to make some ash fall to the ground by itself. “It’s the other way around. I like it. I like when we do that.”

Eddie frowns, but his expression is as far from sour as possible. “You do?”

“Yeah. It’s just… It’s calming. I feel safe. Far away from the monsters and shit.”

Eddie smiles and huffs. He lets go of the cigarette gently. His fingers drag down along Steve’s skin. He’s not too willing to admit that, but this simple gesture gives Steve enough goosebumps to last him for life.

“Monsters and shit,” Eddie says, smiling. He turns and presses his knee to Steve’s.

“Yeah, exactly,” Steve presses back. “Monsters and shit.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie #ronance #literal sleeping together #cuddling #it's my religion actually #fluff #stranger things #st4 #st fanfic #look at them goooo #idiots in love #they're all just really stupid and oblivious <3 #let them have it #eddie is a cat dad and he's exactly like his cats you won't convince me otherwise #ficlet #i miss summer so much damn