#shut your mouth sage

[bboricha]

y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1

➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!

➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?

al haitham x secretary afab!reader

you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive. 

maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.

it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit. 

you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling���at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.

he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.

“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”

kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader

you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.

especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.

you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.

when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.

his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.

“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”

baizhu x assistant afab!reader

you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.

one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.

he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?

he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.

you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.

he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.

“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”

childe x cicin mage afab!reader

you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side. 

that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.

he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.

you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.

the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”

cyno x matra afab!reader

you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.

his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.

you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.

the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.

at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.

“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”

➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd

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#bboricha*:･ﾟ✧ #bori writes*:･ﾟ✧ #bori genshin*:･ﾟ✧ #milestones*:･ﾟ✧ #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #baizhu smut #baizhu x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #cyno smut #cyno x reader #genshin impact smut

[earthtooz]

in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.

quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc

there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.

it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 

for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.

you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 

as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 

“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”

“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 

“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 

shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.

not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.

there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 

“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”

his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.

“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”

“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.

as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.

with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#vibe check kinda fic for him #the way i am literally seething biting my hand and lips to try and not let the end escalate #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Twelve

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, smut. Handjob, praise kink, Simon talks you through it. Feelings of fear and anxiety, self doubt, self consciousness. Small panic attack. Comfort. Domestic slice of life. Penny lore. POV switch. A glimmer of morally grey. One step forward, two steps back.

You almost forget where you are.

Almost.

The struggle is brief, trying to acclimatize to the changes, dark green sheets pooling around you, emerald tones rich and ambient, the sage green comforter pulled up over your shoulders.

You almost forget, but Simon’s bulk is nearly suffocating, and you’re pushed up against Johnny, crowded between two immovable objects, two sky high walls.

He’s got you tucked into his chest, hand pressed firm against your belly, leg thrown over yours. Your hand still rests on Johnny, covered by his own, and you blink blearily at the bolts of morning light streaming in through the windows.

“Go back to sleep.” Simon’s mumbling right over your ear, ghost of his breath sending goosebumps down your arms. “It’s early.” He snuggles closer, shoulders curled over yours like a blanket, blazing heat bleeding from him to you… everywhere. His cock throbs against your ass, folded up against his stomach, nestled against your skin. Your mouth goes dry when you allow yourself to focus, to look, to feel, thighs squeezing together, a lust filled whine building in the back of your throat.

This is new. 

You don’t do this… your mind, your body, has always been trapped in a fight or flight, survival mode taking over your core needs and instincts, leaving no room for desire, or affection.

But this... this is different. This is safe. 

Your hand drifts lower on Johnny’s stomach. He’s shirtless, satin skin soft under your touch, and it’s almost on instinct when you settle your palm under his navel, a safe distance away from his sutures and graft, hovering north of the elastic in his sweatpants. He’s hard beneath them, outline mouthwatering in the quiet morning, and you lick your lips.

What are you doing? 

Simon’s fingers idly stroke that spot on your waist, where your hips fold into the space beneath your ribcage, swirling his touch down your belly and around, steady and safe, an anchor in turbulent seas. Your fingers dip beneath the band, mindful of his hip, sliding through curls, just barely grazing the root of Johnny’s cock.

What’re you doing? 

Are you really doing this?

You haven’t touched, or been touched, in ages. It’s foreign, and terrifying, and doubt clouds your head, anxiety rocketing through your veins to your heart, where it triple beats.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothes, sliding a hand over yours, guiding you to where he curls his fingers and yours around the base, tightening his grip into a squeeze.

“I-“

“Want to touch him? Like this?” He murmurs, keeping his voice low, scratchy and gritted against your ear. You’re breathing in time, chests rising and falling together, and you nod hastily, too afraid to lose the scrap of courage that keeps trying to flicker out.

“Y-yeah.” You whisper. You do want to, you want to so badly.

Johnny stirs. He tugs at his pants, not quite awake, trying to pull them down, and Simon helps silently, carefully tucking the elastic lower as to not put pressure on his injuries. He blinks sleepily, confused, before finding your face, impish smile spreading across his cheeks, eyes drifting shut again. He’s not wearing anything beneath them, his thick, uncut cock bobbing free at his partner’s urging, and you gasp at the sight. He’s already flushed, bead of pre-come glistening from the tip, and you hesitantly reach for it, Simon’s hand still covering yours.

“Need to start slow.” Simon coaches, both of your hands moving from root to tip together, squeezing at the base when he encourages you to do so. “Don’t want him tensing up, straining his injuries. Nice and- good bunny, just like that.” His cock is blaring hot in your palm, and you work him gently at Simon’s urging, watching his face twitch and eyebrows creasing, bottom lip tugged underneath his top teeth.

“Fuckin- hell-“ He hisses, hips trying to jerk upward.

“Relax.” Simon instructs, stilling him. You keep up the movement, iridescent spend slicking your strokes, slippery sounds filling the room.

“Ach.” Johnny moans, and you throb, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. Simon coos at him.

“Lucky boy, havin’ our bunny take care of you.”

“A-aye.” His fingers tighten in the sheets, eyes still slammed shut, and Simon squeezes your hip.

“You can go a little harder, like this.” He increases the rhythm, tightening his grip over yours, and your hips tilt back, pressing into the hardness settled against your cheeks, pressure returned with a flex of his own. “That’s it, that’s what he likes. Good girl.”

“Si.” His voice breaks. “P-please… d-d-“ He’s unable to get his words free, gasping for air like he’s just gone out for a run, haggard draw of his lungs stretched to the limit as you hold your own.

“I know sweet boy, you’re so backed up, I know. We’ll fix it.” You think you’re going to explode between them, heat and pressure and atmosphere all bearing down on your bones, grinding them to dust inside your skin. You’re not even sure you’re in your own body in this moment, watching from afar, mystified and impressed at your boldness, your courage, your abandonment of the wall you've so steadily remained perched on. “Breathe, Johnny.” Simon reminds him steadily.

The girl in the mirror is nowhere to be found. It’s just you, and Johnny, and Simon, together.

“You’re doing so well.” Simon hums. “Makin’ our boy feel good, what a good little bunny.” Jesus christ. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head, thighs like a vice, squeezing together so tight, desperate for friction against your clit. Your hips are rocking on their own now, small, micromovements pushing you into Simon again and again, Johnny whimpering and crying as the two of you stroke him harder and faster.

“Will you show our bunny how much of a mess you make, Johnny? Gonna come all over our fingers?” Simon pushes him harder, his legs twitching against yours, and Johnny gasps like he’s in pain, nearly crying, on the edge of a precipice.

“Ah, ah- ‘m gonna-“ He explodes in your hands, coating your fingers with creamy spend, rivers of it running down your fist, strokes slowing to a stop as he pants and shudders.

“Oh there it is- good boy, so good.” He tugs until Johnny is empty, and then raises your hand to his mouth, lips closing around your fingers to lick them clean.

You feel faint. Johnny smiles lazily. “Well, good mornin’ to ye too, bun.”

“I-“ What are you going to say? You don’t know what came over you? Sorry? Good morning? Everything evaporates on your tongue, happiness burning to ash.

“You alright?” Simon asks, rubbing your hip. Still, no words come. All you can do is stare at him. “Bunny? Hey.” He shifts, and Johnny tries to sit up, bliss morphing into concern.

“Pretty girl.” He holds your hand, thumb rubbing against your knuckles, and you try to remind yourself to breathe.

What are you doing? 

“Everything’s okay.” Simon is on his knees now, dipped down in front of you, cradling your jaw. “You’re okay, bun. Just breathe for us.” He rubs your back, and Johnny keeps his fingers curled against your pulse point. They steady you, anchor you, and you surface again, free from the wave of black water trying to drag you down.

“S-sorry.” You hiss, chest less tight. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Lay back.” Simon urges. “I’m going to go get a towel to clean up, stay here.” You nod, cuddling close, your head resting on Johnny’s chest, his touch slow on the back of your neck.

“Ye’re with us, bunny. Ye’re safe.” You close your eyes with a whisper.

“I know.” 

The unsteady peace of the morning doesn't last very long. It’s not too soon after Simon gets Johnny cleaned up that Penny is awake, baby monitor sparking to life, dragging him from the other side of the bed and down the hall.

“How did ye sleep?” Johnny murmurs, still holding you close.

“Good. Great, actually. How are you uh, feeling?”

“Okay. Hip is throbbin’ but I imagine it’ll always be like that from now on.”

“It will get better. You’ll be right as rain in no time.” His thumb brushes your cheek.

“Come here.” You inch closer, bringing your faces together and he kisses you, soft and delicate in the early glow of the day. “Dinnae like ye being so far away. Need ye close. Helps me feel better.”

“You’re such a brat.” You tease, but can’t help giving him another kiss, basking in his warmth. He pushes back against you, flushed. Tan skin warmed bronze and rubicund on his cheeks, almost pink. His eyes are a brighter shade of blue, clear like Caribbean waters, lips swollen, and bee stung. He looks… so fucking hot. Like Hercules, a hero, tired after battle.

 “You sound like Si.” His hand lingers along the curve of your hip, inciting the riotous butterflies into a flurry, heat simmering in your belly. “I like these.”

“My sweatpants?”

“Aye. They fit ye well.” He peeks over, and you giggle despite yourself. He makes it so easy, to feel weightless, free, smiling as handsome as ever, long strands of mohawk falling into his eyes.

“Think you need a haircut.”

“I do. Si usually does it, but I think he’ll be nominatin’ ye this time around.”

“I can’t cut hair!”

“Ach, ‘ts not that hard. Ye just trim a little off the ends and be done wit’ it.” You roll your eyes, and the door cracks open, revealing Simon and Penny, sippy cup in hand.

“See? He’s right there.” He hums, holding her steady, her arms already reaching for where Johnny waits. “Da’s right here.”

“My wee lamb.” He cuddles her into his good side, kissing and cooing, letting her bounce on the bed. “Hey princess. Ye have a good breakfast?”

“She’s on another banana kick.” Simon sighs, kissing his forehead, and then turning to you. “Okay?” He checks in, focused and concerned, and you nod.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Forgot to ask how you slept…” He eyes the bed.

“Good, yeah. I… slept really well.”

“Guess ye’ll just have to sleep in here for now on.” Johnny quips, fingers preoccupied by being dragged towards Penny’s mouth. Sleep in here for now on? Like, with them?

Pen coos, tipping towards you with a chubby little smile. “Bunny.” She babbles, fingers straining.

Your hand finds hers, holding on to keep her upright. “Good morning to you too, little miss. Sorry I neglected you.” You sign ‘good morning’, one of the few you know from work, and she claps, thrilled. Simon beams.

“Yes, she’s terribly neglected.” He sits at Johnny’s side, mindlessly stroking his leg, massaging and working the muscle in his calf. “How do we feel about getting you downstairs?” He nods, and you roll over, sliding off the bed to lumber towards his crutches.

“Nice and slow.” His fingers brush yours as he takes them, and a shy smile works across his face.

“Ye’ll help me?” Simon tsks, but you sigh playfully.

“Of course.”

Getting Johnny settled is easy. You build him a nice little nest with the pillows from the couch, fluffing them for support, making sure he’s comfortable, until Simon reminds you to take it easy.

“You’re not at work, let me do this.”

“I don’t mind…”

“I do. Sit.” He leans you back into the cushions, settling you both, plopping Penny down between you. “If you keep an eye on her, I’ll get breakfast.” She crawls into your side with her sip cup, and you try not to tense when she curls up against your ribs. Her feet press against Johnny’s thigh, and he cups them both in one hand, staring at her like he’s trying to memorize every little piece. Deep breath. You can do this. 

“Isnae she the bonniest thing ye’ve ever seen?” He breathes, and you nod.

“She really is. The cutest.”

“She looks like ‘im.” He murmurs, and you blink, glancing down at the baby. Like who?

“Like…” the curiosity falls out of your mouth in a hurry, and you grimace. He gives you a weird look.

“He didnae tell ye?”

“Tell me what?”

“She’s his. Simon’s.”

“Wait, I thought…” You don’t what you thought. You assumed she was adopted, or something else. “She’s…”

“We got turned down by every agency, ye know. Two dads, active combat roles.” He leans forward, tickling her arm, and her eyes light up, like she’d forgotten he was there. You help her straighten, and she scoots over closer to him, trying climb him like a jungle gym. “Ah, Penny. No. Da’s hurt.” He makes the sign for what you assume is hurt, his pointer fingers motioning towards one another. “Hurt, Penny. Da is hurt.” He does it again, and she cocks her head. “Here, sit here, there’s a girl.” She settles easily after that, completely captivated by the old Disney movie Johnny flicked on. “Anyway, no one would let us adopt a baby. Felt like it was goin’ be impossible, and we almost gave up. Then we met Pen’s mum.”

“You knew her?”

“Aye. She’s special. Gave us a chance.” Something green and snappish curdles in your stomach. It’s illogical, insane, and you try to beat it back. “We didnae know, obviously, who the dad was goin’ be but, I’m so glad it was him.”

“Did you…”

“Do it naturally?” He wiggles an eyebrow. “Nay. We both donated and she did it at home.”

“And... Simon said she's not in Penny’s life?”

“Not right now. She will be again, one day. She jus’ travels a lot and is really committed to her job. Has no parental rights, nothin’ like that. But she’s not against seeing Penny, the adoption is open.”

“That’s great.” Adoption is delicate, you know. There’s no one size fits all when it comes to nature of it, and you’re relieved to hear it sounds like they have something that’s healthy for Penny, and everyone involved.

“Sorry, thought he would’ve told ye.”

“It didn’t come up, and I didn’t want to… pry. He mentioned she was deaf when I asked about the sign language.”

“Eh, pry all ye want. Ye’re in our life, ye should know these things. And aye, she’s fully deaf. Travels as an interpreter for the U.S. military. Works with some important guy at the top. Dinnae know much about it.”

“That’s really cool.”

“We’re very grateful to her.” He strokes some of Penny’s curls from her forehead, and you look closer, watching for similarities, her chubby cheeks and chestnut dusted dark blonde hair now starting to look reminiscent of Simon, the longer you study her.

“I’m happy for you guys.” He glances from her to you with a beautiful smile, so handsome it makes your chest hurt.

“Me too.”

“I think,” Simon brings two plates with eggs and toast, handing one to Johnny before placing the other on the table by your knee. “We should have a bit of a lie in on the couch, easy day. Bun’s still on leave of absence, and you’re not going anywhere.” He shoots Johnny a pointed look, who holds his hand up as if to say, who me?

“A lie in sounds grand.” He postures, grimacing with a shift. You instinctively try to move towards him, a hand on Pen to keep her in place, but Simon beats you to it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’ jus’ my hip.”

“Let’s eat something and I’ll get your pain meds.” You nod encouragingly.

“Better to take them with something in your stomach.”

“Is it goin’ be like this all the time? Two nursemaids cluckin’ at me?”

“Probably.” You laugh, and Simon shakes his head.

“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Johnny murmurs, voice low. Penny is upstairs, asleep for her morning nap already, both guys settled back on the couch, a tangle of limbs. 

“No.” you whisper. Simon’s head turns, drawing his eye, but the exchange is fleeting.

“How’s your shoulder, bun?” Johnny murmurs, and you half shrug.

“Better. The steroid helped a lot.” The room is heady, and you’re cocooned in its warmth, blazing heat radiating from Simon trying to lull you into a nap like Pen’s.

“Ye can sleep, pretty girl.” Johnny smirks. His legs are thrown over the larger man’s thighs, one gingerly cushioned, the other, lackadaisical and bent.

“It’s so warm in here.” You offer as an explanation, and he agrees.

“Aye. Si’s a furnace.”

“You run pretty warm yourself.” Simon chides, but nods encouragingly at you.

“I need a shower.” It is tempting, to curl up on the couch between them, slip away into safe and comfortable dreamland but… not without a shower. You’re overdue.

“Okay. We’ll be here.”

There isn’t much in this world a shower can’t fix.

Or at least, that’s how this one feels. It’s scalding, so hot the room steams up within a minute, and you relax under the spray, letting it wash over the soreness in your shoulder, cascade down your back.

You linger in it, soaking up the quiet moment, raising your face to the water over and over, letting it rinse you clean.

By the time you get out, you almost feel like a brand-new person.

If only… 

“How was yer shower?”

“Good.” He tries to fidget on the couch, rocking back and forth to make room for you. “Don’t Johnny, you’ll hurt-“

“I’m fine.” He grunts. “I’m still me, ye know. I know ye didnae know me, before, but I dinnae need help wit’ everything.” Your heart cracks.

“I know you don’t.” You think back to your vulnerable patient, the one who cried about being separated from his family, and how far he’s come. It fills you with pride, and something so foreign, so strange, you don’t even recognize. A massive swell of affection, of care. “I’m just… programmed, you know?” You try to soothe him, and he grumbles until you’re slipping into his side, turning to press your face in his chest.

“Sorry, bun. Didnae mean to get frustrated.”

“I know, Johnny.”

The baby monitor crackles.

Johnny shifts restlessly.

“What is it?” you murmur, and he huffs.

“I want to get her. Hate feelin’ useless to my own daughter.” You could…

“Do you… do you want me to grab her? Bring her down here for you?” His eyes light up.

“Would ye? Si’s just in the kitchen, dealing with some laundry. If ye could-“

“Yeah, I got her.”

“Ye’re sure? Yer shoulder…”

“It’s fine, promise.” He holds your jaw briefly, tongue dashing out to lick his lips, and then he kisses you, wet and messy, breathlessly.

“Thanks, bun.”

Penny’s room is dark. You’ve seen it in passing, but never really been inside, and when you flick on the light, she’s already standing in her crib, little face wet with tears.

‘Shhh, it’s alright!” You’re not sure she will calm for you since you’re not one of her dads. You’re practically a stranger in her life, but she reaches for you anyway, arms stretched out, hands grabbing in mid air. “Okay, okay, here we go.” You support her weight with your good arm, tucking her up on your waist, setting her easily on your hip.

At least they’re good for something. 

“There we go. Ready to go downstairs, see Da? Yeah?” You babble, surprised to feel her nappy still dry, and she tilts her head back, pretty eyes and gob smacked expression locked onto you.

Fuck. 

“Hi, baby girl.” You whisper, backs of two fingers gentle on her cheek. “You really do look like your dad, don’t you?” Something springs a leak, cracks slivering wide, a failsafe crumbling in your chest. It stops working, stops processing, because tears are suddenly flooding your eyes, making it hard to see.

Penny coos. You try to take a deep breath.

Get it together. You’re holding their baby. 

Deep breath. 

Pain long buried and forgotten clangs on the rusty iron encasing your heart. It bangs against it, pleads to get out.

For a second, it steals your breath. Almost forces a sob from your throat. Raw edged agony beats wildly through your veins, sharp and acidic, poisoning you from the inside out.

You shove it back where it came from.

You need some air. You need some space, some distance... something that will lessen this feeling, this despair. 

“Alright,” you croak. “Let’s get you downstairs.”

“Where’s…”

“She went up to get Penny.” Simon nods, thumb slipping the monitor’s volume crank higher, head cocked.

“Hi baby girl… you really do look like your dad, don’t you?” He glances at Johnny, who shrugs sheepishly.

“I let it slip.”

“Did you explain everything?”

“Mostly. Didnae want her to think we were together or anything like that.” Simon nods, satisfied, and Johnny’s toes curl a little. He loves seeing that expression on his face, the proud one, the nearly smug one, and he’d do anything for it, again and again. Johnny tilts his chin for a kiss and he obliges, deep and slow, gentle hand on his chest. “You were so good for us earlier. How’re you feeling? Anything sore?” The blood rushes back to Johnny’s cock from the praise alone, and he blushes.

“I feel good.”

“Do ya?”

“Aye. Wanna play with our bunny s’more.” He grows hotter under his clothes, but Simon shakes his head.

“Don’t push it. We’ve talked about this. You have to let her set the pace.” He knows, and he tries, but after this morning, all he can think about is your hand on his cock, your mouth on his, the dazed, lust filled expression on your face as your hips rocked in time with your strokes.

He wants to show you everything they can give you; the way real love is supposed to feel. Not painful and terrifying. But beautiful, and limitless.

“She’s ready for more.” He protests.

“She’s not, Johnny.” He’s using that tone, the one Johnny knows not to argue with, so he concedes.

After all, he doesn’t really want to push you. He wants you to trust them. Love them.

He wants you to feel safe and comfortable. He’ll wait as long as it takes.

“Alright,” your voice sounds heavy, broken. Simon’s head snaps up. “Let’s get you downstairs.”

Penny is dancing in your arms, clapping her hands together with some sort of sign you don’t seem to understand, babbling nonstop.

“Someone’s awake!” you declare, and Johnny holds his arm out, beckoning.

“There they are.” Simon ruffles his mohawk. You almost falter, stuttering in your stance, but your lips quirk into a tiny smile.

“She’s still dry.” You explain, placing her in his side. He wants to pull you down for another kiss, but Penny insists on one instead, open mouth seeking his nose like a bird.

“Ach, alright wee lamb, alright.”

“You okay?” Simon is cautious, trying not to encroach too much when you’re having a hard time, something he’s been instilling in Johnny too. Giving you space, giving you time.

“Bunny? Ye wit' us?” You’re in your head again, drifting. Here, but not really, and he tries to pull back towards them, to safety. To love.

“Yeah, I… uh. I have to run some errands.”

“Where?” Simon asks sharply, and Johnny tries to sit up.

“I have to go to the hospital, fill out some paperwork for leave, and I need to swing by apartment… get some clothes and stuff.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, no that’s alright. You guys hang out. I won’t be too long.” You look uncomfortable, twisting and turning, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Let me drive you, at least. I can’t stand you taking the train all over the city.” You laugh.

“I’ve grown up on trains and been fine, besides...” You motion to Johnny and Penny on the couch before your arms cross, sprinkle of defiance that has him casting a quick glance to see Simon’s jaw flexing. What choice do they have? 

“Alright. Well, text us to check in yeah?”

You’re gone for hours. Simon takes to pacing, and Johnny can’t soothe him, can’t hold him in the way he wants, can’t walk over and throw his arms around him the way he should be.

It hurts.

“What’s dad doing, hmm Penny? What’s he doing?” He coos, pointing to where his partner is checking his cellphone for the tenth time. She babbles something unintelligible back to him, chin tipped back, gazing in wonder.

Simon’s stress softens, hardness still lingering in worry lines, mouth taut. “‘M sorry.” He murmurs, settling on the couch opposite where Penny is sitting up against Johnny.

“It’s okay. I’m worried too.” He commiserates. It’s the same kind of agony in his heart, the same taste is his mouth, from when he was in hospital. Helplessly laid up and watching you work your way through whatever is chasing you. He clears the lump in his throat. “She’ll be back soon. Right? She wouldnae…” panic erupts in the bottom of his stomach. “She wouldnae just, leave.”

“We don’t know what she would do, love. She’s scared, and she’s smart, and we don’t know who she’s running from.”

“Maybe ye should’ve followed her.” He groans, and Simon gives him a look.

“Thought you didn’t want me doing that now?”

“I dinnae.” He chews on his lip. His abdomen is throbbing, and he reaches for Simon’s hand.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Simon soothes, rubbing a thumb over the back of his knuckles.

“Everythin’ would be easier if I wasnae like… like this.” He grits, frustration laden voice cracking. He’s a mess. A burden, can’t take care of his own family, help Si with Pen, or you. All he can do is lay here, and- 

“Shhh. Don’t say that.” Simon cradles the back of his head, mouth pressed against his forehead. “You’re alive, that’s all I care about. You came home.”

“Feel like I should be doin’ more.”

“The only thing-“ Penny grunts, and Simon plops a finger in her fist, letting her yank and tug on it. “The only thing you need to do is get better, focus on healing. I’m here for the rest, okay?”

“Okay.” He whispers, eyes heavy. The medications knock him out, but it’s better than before, when he was stuck inside dreams, bound to a bed.

“Get some rest, sweet boy. I’ll wake you when she’s back.” He’s already losing the battle, stupor dragging him back under, and bliss clouds his head as he begins to drift.

“‘Kay.”

#simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #peaches writes

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I would love to read more about the dynamic between poly!marauders and reader. Like maybe some domestic fluff just showing the interaction between the boys and with reader. I love the way you write true poly with the boys together too 🥹🤍

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shit!” Sirius hisses, another piece of popcorn splintering off his string. It’s nearly all cranberries at this point, and half the length of either yours or Remus’. “How are yours not breaking?”

“Patience,” Remus preaches, eyes on his needle as he slides it smoothly through yet another popcorn kernel. 

“Sounds made up,” James scoffs. The remains of his own popcorn are littered about his lap and his fingers are stained pink with cranberry juice. His problems lie in inaccuracy as much as impatience, constantly getting ahead of himself and pricking his fingers rather than his target. Fortunately, Rugby Captain James Potter is no stranger to pain, so he only extends the injured finger towards where you sit on the floor for you to kiss each time before resuming his work. 

“Completely agree.” Sirius is quick to hop on James’ half-constructed bandwagon. “They’re conspiring against us, keeping the real secrets of success to themselves.” 

“They’re focussing on their work,” you say, grinning when Sirius’ foot nudges your shoulder meanly, “which is how they keep from messing up.” 

“Cruel,” he murmurs, but you only hum, a wordless You know I’m right. And he does, because he goes quiet. 

James could never stand silence. “It’s almost cold enough for a fire,” he remarks after nearly five seconds of it. “Maybe we could have one tomorrow?” 

“You just want to chop firewood,” Remus accuses. 

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, and Sirius nods emphatically. Another piece of popcorn shatters in his hands, bits of it hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t deter him.” 

“I don’t even get to chop it anymore since you started buying it at Tesco,” James complains, shooting Remus a resentful look. “Now I just want to watch fire. It’s the last caveman’s pleasure you’ve left me.” 

You glance over, and Remus is looking downward, trying and failing to quell his smile. “Fine,” he relents. “We can pick some up tomorrow and have a fire.”

“Yes!” James leans around Sirius, planting a smacking kiss on Remus’ cheek. “Thank you.” 

“S’no problem.” Remus has gone all soft and blushy. You and Sirius exchange a fond, knowing look. 

“Hey, do you think we could pick up some of those gingerbread house kits while we’re there?” you ask the room. “We didn’t get a chance to do those last year.” 

“Patience,” Remus reminds you, recovering. “It’s hardly the end of November, we’ve got a whole month for that.” 

Your mouth pulls dissatisfiedly. “Yeah, but last year we thought the same thing and then we ran out of time.” 

“You know what we should do?” James perks up. “Have a competition! Whoever makes the best gingerbread house in under an hour gets—”

“No,” you all say on top of each other. 

You shake your head. “It’ll take all the fun out of it, Jamie.”

“You can’t put a time limit on creativity,” Sirius agrees. “Hey, I got three in a row!” He beams, holding his garland up for Remus’ approval, and the other boy appraises it for a second, nodding sagely. 

“Well done.” 

“Sorry,” you tell James, who’s still pouting after the hasty shut-down of his idea. “We can race at something else if you want to, but that sort of stuff is supposed to be more…”

“Peaceful,” Remus supplies, and you nod relievedly. 

“Exactly.” 

“S’fine,” James sulks. He sticks his needle through a cranberry, a pitiful whine escaping him when it comes out the other side harsher than he’d expected. He extends his hand toward you palm up, and you take it, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his finger. “Mm, now here.” He leans down, tapping the corner of his mouth. You smile, pecking him sweetly on the lips. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he uses this time of year, which you love and Sirius abhors (he thinks all mint tastes like toothpaste). “Alright,” James says, lips curving against yours, “now it’s actually fine.” 

“Scoundrel,” Sirius accuses. “My poor darling, do you feel used?” 

“Not terribly,” you admit, but it’s no deterrence to Sirius, who reaches down to haul you into his lap. Your garland trails after you, overlapping with his. You settle in contentedly. 

“Who’s the scoundrel now,” James objects. “You can’t just move her about like she’s got no will of her own.” 

You’re perfectly happy to be wherever they want you, but you aren’t going to say that. “Does anyone fancy a hot chocolate? I just got those peppermint marshmallows.” 

Sirius makes a face. “No thanks. James, make the girl a hot chocolate.” 

“Why me?” James objects. 

“I’ll have one too,” Remus says. 

“It’s her idea, why doesn’t she make them?”

“Because she,” Sirius says, weaving his arms under yours to resume stringing up his garland in front of you, “is occupied. Go on.” 

James grumbles, but sets down his work. 

“Sorry,” you say, making your eyes extra big. It’s half sincere apology, half completely unapologetic beguilement, and James cracks quickly, kissing your cheek to show he’s not really upset. Then he kisses Sirius too, just for fun. 

“I wanted a hot chocolate anyway,” he says, heading into the kitchen. 

You fall into an easy silence as he works, the kettle gurgling in the background while you relax against Sirius’ chest, nearly finished with your garland. You wonder if you should offer to do his for him, even though you know the other two will definitely make fun of you for letting him off the hook. You think you will anyway. 

“Oh!” Sirius straightens, causing you to shift against him uncomfortably. He ignores the slighted look you send him, bringing a hand to your shoulder to hold you more securely against him. You’re easily pacified. “If you want to have a competition, you and y/n should have a race for who can wrap the most presents.” He looks at you. “You’re always saying you love wrapping, yeah sweetheart?” 

The endearment only slightly softens the look you’re giving him. Must everyone try to ruin your holiday rituals with racing and competitions? You know he’s only brought it up out of selfishness, too; Sirius hates wrapping gifts, and this is just another way for him to push the labor off on James and you. 

James, unfortunately, lights brighter than the tree you’d set up earlier that day. “Yeah!” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus eyes the boiling water he’s pouring out at the same time warily. “What do you say, lovie? Maybe a couple of days before Christmas we can divvy up the presents that aren’t for us, then we just see who finishes first!” 

“Didn’t you already lose that competition the other night?” Remus quips. Sirius erupts in laughter behind you, but James only shoots him a hostile look (or his version of a hostile look, more of a squint than anything) before his eyes flit back to you hopefully. 

You roll your eyes, but this is one competition you think you might actually win. “Fine,” you say, smiling when he pumps his fist. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Potter. My gift wrapping skills are legendary.” 

“Oh, my love,” James croons, grinning as he carries in two mugs of hot chocolate. “My sweet, naive girl.” He passes one to Remus and the other to you, dropping a kiss on your temple. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[straykidsholicleigh]

I don't know if I'm allowed to ask or not but can I get a drabble of jeongin and his gf "quietly" fucking because chan told him to keep the door open?? Like those parents who are like "keep the door open" whenever their child has someone over

warnings: penetration, kissing, reader is called slut (u like it shut up), orgasm (that's not a warning but anywho-), finger suckingg

a/n: I hope I did u justice 👀

You were currently situated on the bed, your legs pushed up to your chest as a hand was squeezing against your face, mascara running down your eyes while your hands gripped the sheets. “Just keep quiet, my girl.” jeongin said, ramming into you faster as he felt his high approaching.

Usually whenever you'd visit the dorms, chan never had a problem with the door being closed because normally you two would play games or just mess around. one particular day though, you were very needy, considering that jeongin had a jam packed schedule so he never had any time to satisfy you sexually. so it lead to both of you fucking in his room with the members home and being rather loud. ever since then, chan made it a rule that whenever you'd visit, the door would be left open.

Today tho, you just couldn't help it. you both were horny and needy you practically skipped foreplay and just moved on to the actual sex. “Shut the door innie,” you reminded him, your lips red and swollen from having just made out. he shook his head, proceeding to remove his shirt as he kissed down your neck. “Just be quiet, we won't get caught.” he said, index finger tracing your jaw.

So this is where you are now, getting fucked into the mattress with chan just in the room next to yours. “Such a good girl yeah? Taking me in so well,” Jeongin panted, his hips moving faster as he pushed his thumb into your mouth, making you suck as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Needy little thing, wanting to be fucked with chan in the opposite room. Dirty slut.”

His moans turned into high pitched whispers as he felt his high coming, his thrusts more fluid and messy. “fuck, I'm gonna c-cum! cum with me please?” he pleaded, his fingers trailing down to rub circles against your sensitive clit. You nodded, biting your wrist as the knot in your stomach burst, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your back arched off the mattress. Jeongin came soon after, gasping as he stilled his hips, his legs shaking as his high washed over him.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breath, the room silent as jeongin lay down beside you on the bed, but the silence was short lived.

“Jeongin!”

“Shit-”

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[somnambulic-thing]

Shhh

Just thinking about Eddie coming home from a three cities in five days tour, his voice completely gone.

He looks miserable when he tries to say hello to you despite better knowledge and you flinch at the sound, hearing the pain in the scratch deep in his throat. You clasp a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before he can hurt himself more.

Good thing there's a full weekend before he has to go back to the workshop on Monday, where his day job is waiting for him.

You tuck him into bed, throw a sketchpad and a pen at him and try to turn to get some camomile tea brewing but he snatches the back of your shirt and pulls you in, tucks you against his chest and just holds you there.

It's a weird silence, you can feel the words rattling around in his chest cavity and you're impressed and proud at how much restraint he's showing.

When he lets you go reluctantly, you smother his face in kisses, assuring him you'll be right back. He grins, voices a scratchy hum and softly slaps your ass when you wiggle out the bed.

In the kitchen, you start to get busy finding everything that will help to restore his voice again as fast as possible. You had started to miss it in all its ever-changing variations when you had come home on Monday to an empty apartment to many small voids where Eddie's presence usually lingers in the things he cherishes the most, uses every day.

Clothes and books - he packed too little of one, too much of the other as always - an off-white spot in the shape of a guitar over the armchair that's the only void that won't stay empty in his absence. Not only because you like sitting in this spot, though usually got no chance to sit in here when Eddie is around, but because it smells of him, because you can sink into the impression his presence has left there over the years.

You only have dried sage right now but you'll get fresh one and some other things when he's settled and asleep which shouldn't take too long, judging by the soft purple half-moons under his eyes. He's not getting any younger and hoisting amps at two in the morning after a busy concert days leaves traces now.

Maybe he has already passed out, you think. You've been busy in the kitchen for more than five minutes and he hasn't sneaked up on you yet, impatiently wrapping his arms around you from behind, sinking his face into your shoulder.

But when you get back to the bedroom with a pot full of steaming hot camomile and sage tea and a jar of honey, he's still awake, frantically filling the sketch pad with his scratchy-elegant handwriting.

He looks up when he hears you enter and makes a small, high pitched noise in his chest, his smile a soft curve of gratitude and admiration.

He pulls you back into the bed with him, pulls your legs into his lap and puts an obscene amount of honey into his first cup of tea. You chuckle and make a stupid joke about bees or something when your eyes start to move over the first page of five he had filled in your absence. You don't finish the joke, the thought fading as you fall into the report of his days away.

It's a ritual that you're fond of. It bridges the gap that had opened when you stopped dragging yourself to every gig just for the sake of it. You didn't miss the stress and the claustrophobic haze of it all - after all, you're not getting any younger either - but you missed his euphoria, missed to share his joy and whatever else got his blood pumping fast and hot and wild.

You read it all out loud, commenting in between, forming your inquisitive thoughts into yes or no questions, chuckling, marvelling, ranting, all while Eddie drinks his too-sweet tea in small sips and enlivens your narration with his facial expressions and small grunting noises.

You try not to laugh too hard, for it always makes him laugh as well and you think he knows you're holding back if the way he keeps kissing the corners of your tightly sealed lips is anything to go by. Like small thank you's because you caring for him when he's unwell still blows him away a little, even after all this time.

"You tired?" you ask, when the written report ends mid-sentence and you look up to find Eddie nodding off with his head rolling against the wall. He cracks open one eye, shakes his head, shakes himself awake and no to your question, a hand reaching out to the sketchpad in your lap.

"You can finish that later, Ed." You pluck the cup from his other hand before he can spill whats left in there over the sheets. "You look like shit."

He snorts a laugh, then coughs.

"Shit, sorry."

"S'ok-ay--" he croaks, using his vocal cords out of habit and coughs some more.

"Shhh," you say and start rubbing soothing circles into his back for as long as it takes for the dry, sore heaving to subside again.

"Okay, now you sleep. I'm going out to get some th--"

A hand over your mouth shuts you up. He's shaking his head, fumbling the notepad out of your lap at last with the other one.

Don't want you to leave. Take a nap with me?

"I won't be long, I join you when I get back."

He shakes his head again.

Please?

You barely have time to look at the word when he starts manhandling you up the bed and pulls you down with him, burying his face in your chest.

"Alright," you say, weaving your fingers into his hair while something more than his breath starts to spread warmth through your ribcage. "Alright, I stay."

You feel his muscles relax, his breath even out. Seconds later, he's asleep.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #blurb or whatever #I wrote something after weeks #everybody say 'yay somna'

[aniifics]

Tinkering- James Kelly

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! smut, cheating, unprotected piv, semi-public, f receiving oral, slut shaming pairing: neighbor!James Kelly x fem!reader summary: you're home from college for the summer, but that doesn't mean the fun has to end. a/n: enjoy & happy birthday hayden!!

summers, you dreaded the summers in your hometown. None of your college age friends were there and your parents, when they weren't working or arguing, paid you no attention. You looked for attention and fun anywhere you could find it and well, James, your married next-door neighbor wasn't exempt. When he wasn't bent over under the hood of someone's car, he was outside dragging a cigarette and checking you out... he was anything but inconspicuous.

The one night you actually have plans in your shithole hometown, the obvious happens. "Fuck!" you yell as you turn the key in your car, and it doesn't start. You hop out and slam the door angrily, stuck at home again for another night. "Just my fucking luck." you hiss before leaning over the hood of your car.

James was outside having his normal evening cigarette drag when you yelled, and he decided to come take a look. On his way over, he took a careful mental note of the scenery, young twenty-something girl, shortest sage green dress known to man, black lace thong begging to be ripped off, and a body that was sure to turn heads. "Won't start?" he asked taking a long look at you up and down.

You look up frustrated, but also nervous. "Of course he had to fucking be outside, great! At least I look hot though." you think to yourself. You'd spent days checking James out from your bedroom window or the front porch, and he was HOT too, dark hair, blue eyes you've been dying to get lost in, slim build, but definitely got a bit of muscle under those button-up shirts and tank tops, and a face that you'd never forget.

"Hello?" he asked, waving his hand in front of your face. A small mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as you stood there watching him and mute. "Won't start?"

"Oh... uh no it won't. I'm on my way to a party, well... I was and then my car wouldn't start, so yeah" you sigh deeply. "I never have car problems and of course on the one day I'm supposed to leave this shitty town and have some fun, I can't."

James lets out a small chuckle "I could take a look at it if you want me to... could be something quick that'll get you to your party tonight... No charge." he offers as he grinds his cigarette out on the asphalt with his shoe.

"You're gonna look at my car? and for free?" you ask, cutting your eyes at him. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" he says feigning ignorance. "No catch sweetheart, I fix your car because I like fixing cars, and you get to your party, which I can tell must be pretty important by the choice of attire." he teases manipulatively while looking you up and down.

You pull down your dress in a poor attempt to make it longer, not realizing how revealing your outfit is until he mentioned it. "Uh... yeah sure... you can take a look at it" you reply coyly. You watch as James heads into his garage to grab some tools and return. You watch as he pops the hood and starts poking all around your car, or at least that's what it looked like to you, you don't know a single thing about cars, but how to drive them.

"Well, bad news sweetheart, you're not gonna make it to your party tonight, but I can get it fixed for you tomorrow." He says as he shuts the hood of your car. "I'll start early so I'll be done in time in case you have plans." He says eyeing you once more.

You sigh deeply "Thanks, that'll be fine." You part ways with him for the night and retreat into the house. The next morning you decide to sleep in, since your car wasn't working, and you can't go but so far anyway. After a shower and breakfast, you decide to walk over to James' garage and check on your car. "Making progress?" you ask curiously.

James looked up at you from under the hood of your car. You were dressed in short black shorts and a tight cropped shirt. "You always dress like that?" he asks feigning concern.

You look down at your outfit choice. It was particularly hot that day, so you didn't see the issue in your clothes. "Dress like what? It's like 100 degrees out here" you say slightly annoyed.

James chuckles softly "Do you always dress in something short and tight... is that like your thing or are you trying to tempt me" he says, his eyes never leaving the task at hand.

You feel your stomach start to do backflips at his words. He was hot and he knew you thought so too. "Both, if you're into that." you say trying to sound calm, though you liked to know he paid attention to you.

James stops and looks up at you "I'm a married man princess." he says while wiping his hands on one of the shop rags.

You huff, taking the shot you had been dying for. "I see you checking me out on my morning jogs or whenever we're both outside for that matter, so don't play that "married man" card with me." You fold your arms as you wait for his response.

James laughs while continuing to survey you. "Bold. I like bold, and I said that I'm married, not that I'm faithful." he smirks as he cutely taps your nose.

You feel the lump in your throat grow at his admission. Married, hot, and willing to cheat? it's not something you've tried before, but you're definitely into it. "So then why are you married if you're just gonna cheat on her?" you ask, though you don't give a damn, you just wanna sound less like a shit young slut.

"Do you really give a damn? or is this one of those conversations that's supposed to make you feel less guilty if I decide to fuck you." he asked, though he knew the latter was the answer.

"You want the truth or the socially acceptable truth" you laugh softly, there wasn't shit funny about this interaction, but he was so hot, and you were wet and needy.

James laughs too "I won't be needing any answer sweetheart, I already know. Keep coming around here dressed like that and I might have to take you up on that offer." he winks at you.

"You don't wanna take me up on it now? I only see one car in the yard, so that means your wife's gone and I can tell you're happy to see me" you joke at the sight of the growing bulge in his jeans. You move fully into the garage, only standing inches apart from each other

James' mischievous smirk turns into a wide mischievous grin. "If you've always found me so attractive, what's taken you so long to come over here."

"My car worked before, it doesn't now so that's why I'm here, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a parting gift for all your hard work" you say, tracing along the waistband of his jeans.

James was so tempted to just bend you over and take you right there, but he tried to focus on the task at hand first. "I... I uh should probably finish tinkering with your car first if you plan on going out tonight." He says playing with a lock of your hair, poorly resisting temptation

"Well what if I need to be tinkered with..." you say in a low seductive tone

James laughs, feeling his body start to heat up "You're a needy one aren't you." he says seductively before pulling you into a lust-filled kiss. The kiss was soft, but gradually got nastier as your tongues fought for dominance. His hands began to roam your body, softly squeezing your ass and gripping your hips.

"Mmm" you moan softly. You couldn't believe you were actually going through with this, especially considering how you knew that he's married. You pulled away slightly, finally able to get lost in those blue eyes. "God James, I want you so badly" you whimper as your reach down feeling his growing cock.

James's eyes darken with anticipation. "I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you." He smacks your ass hard and grabs it firmly "Walking around in all that tight shit just for me?"

The kissing resumed, deep and passionate and everything they both wanted. James let his hands roam, up and under your shirt and in one swift motion, your shirt was on the ground. He quickly popped the hooks on the back of your bra, allowing your soft perky tits with erect nipples to spill out. "Just what I fantasized about" he muttered as he nibbled on the soft skin of your neck.

"You fantasize about me? hmm?" you tease as he lifts you onto his work station table

"When you bouce around dressed like that, you leave me no choice." James lifts your hips with one hand and pulls off your shorts with the other. He drags his index and middle finger up and down the lace fabric of your panties. "So wet and needy huh? That's all for me?" he growls before ripping off your panties and discarding them.

James spread your legs wide and stepped back to take in the view. It was true, you were soaked and it was all for him. It felt like you had already orgasmed and he hadn't even fucked you yet. James started slow, kissing your inner thighs and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please..." you begged softly for him to finally just tongue fuck your needy pussy. He sunk his face into your warm pussy, using his mouth to suck your clit and please you just right. He licked and sucked in all the right places, after all he was an experienced man. "James, please don't stop" you scream as you grab his hair, pushing him deeper into your needy cunt.

James lets out a soft hum into your pussy "mmm, taste so good sweetheart, just like I knew you would." The wet sounds of him slurping and tongue fucking your wet and aching pussy filled the garage. "God you're so good at that James... I love the way you suck on my clit" you moan loudly as he continues his pleasure-filled assault.

it didn't take long and he knew what he was doing, all you juices came flowing out like a waterfall, coating his face and shirt with your sweet release. "That's it baby, that's my good girl... show me how much you want it." his words were almost enough to make you cream again, he was just that fucking sexy.

You helped James pull his shirt off and unbutton his jeans before hungrily pulling down his bottoms. His thick erect cock sprung free, the tip leaking with precum. Hot and a fat dick? He was the whole package and you're living for it. He used the tip of his cock to tease your folds and leaking entrance. He'd push in slightly, but not all the way, just enough to hear you gasp and see you squirm.

"I need all of it James please... I cant take it anymore" you beg relentlessly as he continues to tease you. "Beg for it" he growls as he slaps the tip on your clit causing you to let out a soft moan "Please James I cant take it anymore, I need that cock" you beg again and again

"Good girl" He praises as he fully pushes into you. "So wet and tight... such a needy little cum slut. Yeah?" He growls as he thrust into you hard and deep. He grips your hips tightly with one hand and uses the free hand to caress your tits. "You're so fucking sexy, you know that?" he says as he rests his forehead against yours and thrusts into you. With every hungry thrust, he keeps eye contact.

"Mm, fuck you feel so good in me like that" you moan loudly. Your knuckles go white from gripping the edge of the table to stabilize yourself. "mhmm, mhmm, harder please, faster" you beg as he relentlessly claims you as his own. The pleasure washes over you, causing you to close your eyes. "Look at me when I fuck you, look me in the eyes like the nasty little whore you want me to think you are" James barks as he drills into your leaking pussy over and over.

Your walls start to clench around him as your reach your peak and you can feel he's getting close too, with his thrusts becoming more ragged. "f-fuck I'm gonna cum James, I'm gonna cum" you scream. "Me too babygirl, you want my cum like a good little slut?" His lips crash into yours as he fucks his cum right into you, not slowing down til' he's pumped you with every inch of his warm white seed.

"Oh god, oh god... that was AMAZING" you say through labored breaths. "Amazing is an understatement babydoll" James says as he kisses your forehead. "Now that we've had a little fun, I got work to do" He leaves you with one last sloppy kiss, that lingers, before adjusting his clothes and getting back to work.

You adjust your clothes and head back next door to your house, to watch from you window like you never even met.

#anakin x you #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen smut #anakin smut #james kelly smut #smut #james kelly x reader #sw #sw cast #sexy content #kenobi #fanfic #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen

[tuhtofu]

cw: sub alhaitham, dom reader, gn reader, mild dacryphilia, enemies with sexual tension gone right, foot jobs, hand jobs, choking, begging, light sadism, coming in pants, dumbification

wc: 1.6k

Summary: Sometimes, even the scribe of the Akademiya needs a reminder of where he belongs.

You hate Alhaitham. 

 

You hate the way he carries himself with that arrogant air surrounding him, and each time he opens his mouth, you want to punch a hole into his skull. It’s such a pity for a man as handsome as he is, but you’ve grown used to it. 

 

Due to your field of work, and how well the two of you work professionally, you are constantly assigned to partner up with him. The both of you are very dedicated to the task at hand and usually, whatever annoying remark he throws at you, you can handle. Unfortunately, you’re not always in a good mood, and Alhaitham, being around you so often, always seems to know it. To him, that’s the best time to push your buttons.  

 

Today was one of those days. You and Alhaitham were assigned to work through and sort out different documents and archives, and prepare materials for a meeting between the sages of the Akademiya. “Where should I place the documents about the Knowledge Capsules?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. 

 

“One as skilled as yourself should know something so simple,” he replied with a slight scoff. Oh, here we go again. 

 

“My foolishness doesn’t comprehend the talent of a scribe such as yourself, hence my question being directed to you. O mighty scribe, would you fucking answer it already?” you say, standing up to wave the documents in his face. Despite knowing you were playing into his cards, entertaining him with your reactions, you couldn’t help but express your annoyance. You’ve had a long day, and playing games was not something you were in the mood to do. 

 

Grabbing your wrist, he looks up at you with a slight smirk. “Come now, there’s no need to be so emotional. The point of a discussion is to arrive at a conclusion, is it not?”

 

“Then quit your attempts at patronizing me all the time. I’m not in the mood to play games,” you reply, snatching your wrist off of his hold. 

 

“Is that so. Well, let’s get back to work then, shall we? Considering you’re the one who interrupted me, after all.” He looked back down at his papers, seemingly satisfied with his reply. You swore he looked like he was about to burst with laughter from your anger. He was mocking you. 

 

“I fucking hate you.” 

 

“Mhm,” he replied absent-mindedly, going back to sorting out his own documents laid on the table. 

 

You’ve had enough of him. Reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding your papers, you grabbed Alhaitham’s jaw roughly, making him look up at you. Gods, he was so pretty it only served to irritate you further. There was a hint of surprise that disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

 

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you. It’s proper etiquette, isn’t it?” To your annoyance, he started grinning. He clearly thinks he’s won. 

 

“I’ll kill you,” you spoke again. 

 

“Go ahead.” 

 

There was a moment of silence between you, your eyes locking with his. Even now, with him looking up at you from his chair, his cheeks being squished together roughly, he was trying to win, to assert dominance. 

 

Fuck it. 

 

Fuck him.  

 

You lean down and smash your lips to his, and he lets out a yelp that was almost inaudible, having once again been caught by surprise. He gave in quicker than you thought though, shutting his eyes and kissing you back with a sloppy hunger you weren’t expecting from him. 

 

Alhaitham was an intelligent man. Was he expecting this? Did you play into his cards again? Deciding to enjoy the moment rather than dwell on it, you bit his bottom lip before going back to kissing him with fervor, licking his lips as if to ask for access to his tongue only to pull away once his mouth opened for you. 

 

Panting, you looked at each other with half lidded eyes. Fuck, his lips looked so glossy and inviting, you wanted to dive back in, but unfortunately, that thought dissipated the moment he opened his mouth to speak. 

 

“If you wanted me this badly all along, you could’ve just told me,” he breathed, speaking as if he didn’t look debauched from a single kiss already. 

 

Sliding your hand downwards, you took hold of his neck, and leaned in to whisper. “You know... It’s about time someone puts you in your place, you arrogant mutt.”

 

Fuck, your words were so harsh, and since when did you look so dominating, looking down at him like that? And why did it make his dick throb? In an attempt to regain his composure, he cleared his throat as he spoke, “Is that so? Enlighten me, how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

 

“My dear scribe, I trust someone as smart as you would know. After all,” you prod his legs open with your knee, before lifting it and placing your shoe on the base of his erection and nudging it. “You’re already hard. Do you like this treatment?”

 

Looking down at where your foot met him, he gulped before attempting to look up at you again, only to turn his head to the side at the way you stared down at him. Dissatisfied with the lack of response, you applied pressure to his balls, making him jerk up and look at you with widened eyes. 

 

“H-hey, how about we get back to work now…” He cringed at the way his voice came out, shaky and breathless, but the smirk forming on your face and the way you’d been touching him only made him harder.

 

“How about no? It’s true, Alhaitham. I did want you all along. I’ve been dying to see you like this. How could I not?” You lean into his ear, continuing as he tried his hardest not to squirm, “The way you speak just screams of someone who wants to be put in their place. And don’t get me started on how you flaunt that tiny waist and those tits of yours with the tight clothes you wear.”

 

You could see the goosebumps forming on his muscular arms from the proximity of the two of you and your hot breath on his sensitive ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but he could only breathe out heavy puffs of air as you lifted his head up by his throat and began to leave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 

 

“Go ahead, tell me how badly you’ve longed for this. There’s no need to keep putting up a front, I’ve already seen how perverted you are. See?” You look down, and his eyes follow yours only to find that he’s been subconsciously humping your shoe. Fuck, if he felt pathetic before, he feels like a complete degenerate now. But… he couldn’t stop. His mind was becoming hazy from everything, and he didn’t care anymore.

 

“I want this. It feels so good. Please,” he breathed, watching as the precum leaking from his slit started to form a wet spot in his pants from the delicious friction.

 

“There you go darling, good job,” you whispered, and finally decided to help the poor thing out by moving your foot along with his thrusts, causing him to buck up and let out a whimper that surprised the both of you with how desperate it sounded.

 

Moving your hand from his neck to the back of his head, you pulled it backwards, and Alhaitham let out a hiss in response, but the way his hips sped up told you how much he enjoyed it as you smashed your lips to his once more. Your other hand traveled along his torso, leaving feather-like touches all over it, contrasting the desperation and roughness of your makeout. 

 

Not daring to pull away, Alhaitham moaned into your mouth before muttering incomprehensible words. For a man like himself, he was surprisingly needy and quite adorable. It made you melt a little on the inside. You took the initiative to pull away first so he could speak, looking at him as he attempted to catch his breath.

 

Aw. His eyes were getting teary.

 

Cupping his face gently, you let him speak. “I’m s-so close. Wanna cum. Gonna cum,” he panted, words all slurred as he got drunk on the pleasure you were so graciously providing him.

 

“You can ask me nicely, can’t you? One as skilled as yourself should know something so simple,” you mocked, and his face burned with embarrassment as the knot in his tummy kept getting closer and closer to snapping. He liked it. It felt good being the one who’s played with.

 

“Please. Please let me cum, I need it. Please?” Gods, the desperation in his eyes as the tears finally started falling sent jolts down your spine. Hearing him finally beg like he was made for it felt so much better than all the times you’d fantasized about it.

 

Pulling him in for one last kiss, this one gentler as you left small pecks all over his plump lips, you removed your shoe from its place, causing Alhaitham to jolt his hips into thin air as he whined. He quickly went quiet though, because you replaced it with your hand, cupping his cock and rubbing it in tandem with his thrusts. You’d graced him with something better to rut against and it made him go dizzy as he whispered chants of thank you’s into your lips, attempting to catch them into a kiss but ultimately failing.

 

“Go ahead, cum for me like the dumb puppy you are,” you whispered back, helping him connect his lips to yours while his mind went on auto-pilot and his hips stuttered before he came into his pants with a loud moan.

 

Helping him ride his high out, his eyes had shut from the intensity of his own orgasm, but your thumb rubbing his tears away from his flushed cheeks caused him to open them once more to the sight of his cum having seeped through his pants and your hand being stained.

 

Absent-mindedly, he took hold of your wrist and started licking your hand free from his own filth, wincing at the taste of himself but being too out of it to care.

 

You really hate Alhaitham.

And now you hate how the beautiful face he makes when he orgasms would be etched into your mind permanently.

#sub genshin #sub alhaitham #sub!alhaitham #sub genshin impact #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #gn reader #gn!reader #genshin smut #al haitham x reader

[thebestofoneshots]

birthday girl | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Ravenclaw Reader Word Count: 3.8 k Warnings: none Prompt: It's your birthday but you're sick. The boys are just total darlings and care for you no matter the risks, making sure you have a super happy speacial day regardless. Comfort Fic // Birthday fic Written for @kquil

Soooo… thanks to @kquil's 1k follower celebration we discovered our birthdays are super close together, and it made me so excited I had to ask when her birthday was exactly and then I knew and then I had this idea in my head. 

And gosh, Kquil, I absolutely love the way you write love, so I wanted to make a little something for you. Hope you’re having a fantastic day sweetie, even if you’re sick with that goddamned awful virus, it feels like shit, I know it does, so I thought, perhaps a little comfort fic could make you feel better. 

This is just a little gift I wanted to make, a token of appreciation for you always sharing your lovely fluffy fics (that honestly make my days brighter)  with us, hope you enjoy <3

You woke up with a headache, sighting as you shut your eyes close again, the brightness coming from the large castle windows causing you to wince. You had felt the signs, the sore throat, the mild headaches and stomach pain, you were well aware you were getting sick but you honestly hoped your body would hold at least after your special day to break down. 

Hopes be damned, it was your birthday and you felt like shit, actually, no, you felt like you had been run over by a truck, which was slightly worse. You took your wand out and cast a spell to muffle the sounds of the already waking castle, especially the sound of your roommates, whom you adored but were too loud for your sick mind to tolerate. You grabbed your pillow and placed it over your head, groaning from how uncomfortable and sore you felt, you’d hoped the pillow would at least muffle the sound a little, no such luck, since just minutes after Mal was popping her head through your curtains and looking at you with brows furrowed in concern. 

“You all right luv?” 

You shook your head in response finally lowering down the pillow from your face, “feel like shit,” you admitted. “Remember I mentioned my throat was feeling funny?” Mal nodded “Well, it looks like it finally decided to give in.” And it really did, it felt like sandpaper every time you said a word. 

“Hold up a sec,” she said and pulled her head out “Hey Sage, do you still have those lemon caught drops we made in potions last month?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Sweet!” she said, you heard her step away and the rest of the conversation was toned out by your charm, after less than a minute later, Mal popped her head back in, small cystal jar in her hands “There you go love,” she said with a smile “Happy Birthday!” 

You chuckled and took the jar from her hands, cranking it open and placing one of the yellow candies in your mouth “Thanks!” you said with a smile. 

From the other side, Sage popped her head “Happy birthday sweetheart,” she said with a smile. 

You smiled at the two girls, shaking your head as you continued to suck on the candy, it was nice to know you had them in your life. You then heard the door creak open and another girl poped her head next to Mal “Hey luv, Happy Birthday!” she said, and then waved her hand, a tower of pancakes with a candle on top appeared on the side of your bed, you sat up, smiling wildly, and completly ignoring the headache and soreness. 

“This is– Thank you girls…” you said, looking at them with a grateful smile, making room for them to sit on the bed.

“Only the best for our best girl,” Eryn said with a wink as she sat on the edge. 

“She’s feelin’ sick thought,” Sage added, with a small pout. 

“The cough drops–“ 

“–we’ve already given them to her,” interrupted Mal “How’s the throat?” 

“Much better,” you said honestly, the caught drops really were doing their magic “The headache and the soreness is still there, unfortunately.” 

Sage pouted now, looking at you with a bit of a frown as you munched on your pancakes “Eating will make you feel better. You can skip breakfast if you want.” 

“Oh no, she can’t,” Eryn said shaking her head. “There’s a certain someone waiting for her just outside. And he looked just about to pick up a fight with the eagle for not letting him in.” 

You opened your eyes in shock “Don’t tell me it’s…” 

“Yup,” Eryn said with a smile “he might bring the door down if you don’t actually get out.” 

You shook your head in disbelief but nodded “I better hurry then.”

“You sure luv?” Sage asked “We can tell him to screw off and come back when you’re feeling better.”

You shook your head “I’ll just pass by Pomfrey before class or something,” you said with a smile and the three girls nodded, they were already wearing their uniforms, blue ties shining over their crisp white shirt. 

“You done?” Mal asked, pointing at your plate, you nodded and she vanished it right after. You looked at her surprised “I’ve been practicing evanesco lately.” 

You nodded and made an O in between your thumb and finger to indicate it’d been a fantastic casting. She nodded excitedly in response and the three girls went back to their respective beds. You stood from your bed, taking a long deep breath as you felt the pain and soreness after moving just a little, and started to slowly put your uniform on. 

You struggled so much while attempting to tie the tie with your scrambled mind that you decided to leave it as is, and deal with it later, genuinely worried one of the boys would actually break the door down if you took too long. You grabbed your bag and lousily threw your books and some parchment inside before walking out of your room and towards the entrance of the common room. 

The door opened easily and the first thing you spotted was his bright red converses, tapping against the stone floor impatiently. He ran straight to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, which you enjoyed as much as it made you squirm, the pain in your muscles being very present. He started to slather soft kisses over your face when you gently pushed him off you. He looked at you with concern, trying to search for what was going on in your eyes. 

“I’m sick,” you told him, still trying to move away from his grasp. 

“Don’t care,” he said pulling you into a hug again. You shook your head but hid your face on his chest either way 

“You’re gonna catch my cold.” 

“Will be worth it as long as I can hug my birthday girl,” he said, still hugging you “And kiss her,” he whispered sneakily. 

“James!” you whined, It was already hard enough to resist his charm without him actively trying to charm you. 

“What’s the plan today?” 

“Class, probably,” you said with a shrug and went back to look at your tie, attempting to tie it by yourself, only to groan and let it hang over your neck either way. 

James frowned “You have a headache, don’t you?” You nodded as you leaned into his chest, not bothering to answer. 

“And my whole body aches, I’m more sore than that one time we fell off the broom.” 

James winced, remembering how bad that time had been “Moony should have something to help, let’s go!” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. 

“Where are we going?” You asked as you allowed him to pull you along. 

“Gryffindor common rooms,” he said as he sneaked the two of you behind a statue. 

“Your portrait’s not gonna let me in.” 

James stopped and turned to you, taking your tie in between his hands and gently pulling it off your shoulders, it slid right off easily. He placed it in his pocket and took off his own, placing it over your head and accommodating the neck of your shirt with ease. 

“The tie wasn’t the only…” you started, but he was already taking off his vest and putting it over your head. “But what about the…” With a swish of his wand, your robes turned wine red instead of blue. You started at the boy in disbelief “Could’ve just charmed my entire uniform instead…” 

He shrugged “Maybe, but you look too cute in my clothes, there was no chance I passed the opportunity up.” You smiled and shook your head at his antics, he placed his hand over yours again and started dragging the two of you through the passageways until you were just outside of his common room. You stood beside him with an awkward smile as he told the lady the password. You swore she threw you a look, but instead of saying anything she just smiled, as if she knew something that you didn’t, and allowed the two of you to come inside. 

You noticed some stares on James, but no one dared to say a thing as he pulled you along the stairs and towards his room, when he opened the door you spotted your two other boyfriends inside, Sirius was buttoning up his shirt and Remus was lacing up his boots. 

“Happy birthday dove,” he said when he spotted you, finishing the bow he was working on and walking towards you in three long strides, he placed a hand on the top of your head, letting it gently fall down as he brought your forehead to his lips “what brings you here?” 

“James,” you joked, you saw Sirius finish up his buttoning and he ran up to you, planting a kiss right on your lips, but you pushed him off with a worried expression and attempted to wipe his face with the sleeve of your hand. 

“What’s with her?” Sirius asked when he finally managed to get your arm off his face.

“Says she’s sick,” responded James.

“I AM sick!” you said “I had a cough drop in the morning, my head is dizzy and everything hurts. That’s why James brought me here.” 

“I should have something to lift your spirits,” Remus said thoughtfully as he moved towards his desk and started rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

Sirius pouted “Does that mean you won’t kiss me today?” 

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick too.” 

“But it’s your birthday,” he argued “You should get all the kisses in the world.” 

“Not at the expense of my boyfriends getting sick.” 

Remus came over again, handing you a small potion “Should help with the pain and headache,” he said as he handed it over to you. 

You took it in one go, “How long will it take for it to… oh.”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded with a smile “Pomfrey gave me the recipe for that time of the month, it’s great innit?” 

You nodded in response and Sirius inched closer “Does that mean I can kiss you now.” 

“Not because I don’t feel sick does it mean I’m not,” you scolded. 

“What if we take something to stop us from getting your cold?” 

“Is there such a potion?” James asked. 

“‘Course there is, isn’t there Moony?” Sirius said looking straight at the boy in question, who quickly deciphered Sirius’ intentions and nodded “Yeah, yeah… I’ve got some in my closet.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the boys, you knew of no such potion, but your head was a bit too cloudy to argue, and Remus was better at potions than you were anyway so you decided to trust them in this one. 

Remus grabbed a small potion and they divided it between the three. Sirius smiled and brought you close to his face “Wicked! Now do I get to slather you with kisses?” 

You looked at the boy, his curls falling beautifully at the side of his head, there was a slight blush on your cheeks as you nodded, but you weren’t quite sure if the blush was because of Sirius’ beautiful face, his adoring eyes, or because you were getting a fever, or perhaps all three. 

He leaned in and placed a kiss on your eye “Happy birthday love,” he said and pressed a kiss on your other eye “Happy birthday,” he said and then pressed another kiss, this time on your cheek “Happy birthday...” 

And he would’ve gone on, but James stopped him, removing the boy from your face, which earned him a glare “All right, that’s enough, you’re hogging her!” 

“We should get to class,” you said as you grabbed Remus’ wrist and brought it closer to your face to check the time on his watch. It was something you did rather often, and Remus enjoyed it a lot more than he let on. There was nothing like the soft touch of your hands over his wrist, over anywhere on his body, if he was honest. 

“Should we?” asked James as he placed a hand on your forehead “I don’t know sweetheart, it seems to me like you’re a bit too sick for class.” 

You looked at him in disbelief “Too sick for class but not too sick to kiss you?” 

“Hey I don’t make the rules,” he said raising his hand with a diverted smile “What do you think Pads? Does she look well enough for class?” 

The boy in question placed a hand on your cheek, and looked at you attentively “Now that you mention it Prongs,” he said slowly “Our lovely Kquill does look a bit pale, doesn’t she?” 

You took his hand off your face and turned to Remus, hoping he’d be the only sensible person left “Come on Rem, you know we have to go to class don’t you?” 

He tilted his head “How many classes have you missed this year Sweetheart?” 

“I…uh-“ 

“–She hasn’t missed any,” James said, very sure of his answer. 

“I have.” 

“Really? Which one?” 

“I… I missed History of Magic last month.” 

“And what else?” asked Sirius, stepping closer now.

You looked to the side “No-nothing else.” 

“Then, my love,” Remus started “I think it’s best if you stay and rest. You said it yourself, just because you don’t feel sick anymore it doesn’t mean you’re not.”

James smiled and placed his hand over your shoulders “There we go sweets, Doctor Moony’s orders. You’re stayin’” 

“What, you mean here?” 

Sirius nodded, and with a wave of his wand both his bed and Remus were next to each other, making a huge one, another wave and there was soft rock playing in the background.

You raised your eyebrows “There we go luv, we can chill and listen to some of your favourite tunes,” he said with a smile “Your mixtape’s on.” 

You still looked at the boy in disbelief, and then you heard a knock on their window. James frowned but approached it either way, an owl was waiting there, with a letter on its beak. James grabbed it and took a treat out of his pocket to feed the owl who hooted merrily before leaving, “It’s for you,” he said, walking towards you again. 

“For me?” You asked confused. 

“Yeah, go ahead, sit on the bed, you can read there more comfortably,” he added and held the letter between his hands as you tried to reach for it “Sit on the bed, I’ll bring it over,” he insisted. 

You rolled your eyes and did as told “May I have my letter now?” 

James nodded and handed it over, you looked at it and a smile grew on your face as you read the envelope “Oh! It’s from my brother!” you said as you unfolded it and started reading its contents. He was wishing you a very happy birthday, telling you how much he loved you but not to let it go to your head, and he also told you to kick Sirius in the balls if he kept trying funny things. 

“What’s with the hate?” the boy said as he read the letter from over your head. You laughed, your brother had been the one to leave you at the station that summer, and he had seen Sirius approach and hug you from behind. But then he’d also seen the boy dig his head into your neck and give you a whiff, long story short, he thought Sirius was weird and that you should stay away from him. Of course, he had no clue Sirius was an animagus, and a dog no less. 

You shrugged “He’s crazy let him be.” 

“I just hope he doesn’t actually kick me on the balls next time we meet.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic Puppy,” you told him as you ruffled his hair, he let his entire head fall over your lap then, looking at you contently. What a twat, you thought looking straight into his eyes and charming smile as you continued playing with his hair. Your brother had also left a couple of galleons on the letter, for you to buy yourself something next time you went to Hogmeade. Which is why you stopped playing with Sirius’ hair and left the letter on the table, the boy complaining just seconds afterwards. 

James and Remus joined the two on the bed eventually and chilled for a while, Remus took out a book and you asked him to read out loud for you to listen, and he did, he was reading Peter Pan, and the story put you in a surprisingly good mood, even if you were in that place between sleep an awake as his soft and yet deep voice gently soothed you to sleep. 

When you woke up the lights were off, you heard a couple of whispers coming from the door and you felt Sirius shift, you wondered how you’d ended up leaning on his chest but then you heard Remus whisper a spell and suddenly a bunch of candles had turned on and he and James were approaching you with the cake on his hands. You smiled, at their silly antics, the three of them started singing Happy Birthday.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear–“ they started. But the three of them said their own pet names to you which is why it turned into a completely uneven choir of “dove”, “Love of my life” and “Kquil”. Which obviously had you giggling. 

“Come on make a wish,” James said once the cake was close enough. 

You stared at him, taking a deep breath and leaning in to blow the candles, closing your eyes as you made your wish, more of this, you thought, more of them.

“Can we turn on the lights?” 

James shook his head “We certainly can’t.” 

“But I want to see the cake!” you said, “Where did you get it?” 

“James made it sweetheart,” Sirius informed “That’s why he doesn’t want you to see it.” 

You smiled at that and fetched your wand from the bed, using it to turn the light on and look at the cake, you smiled, they had used your favourite colour for the cover, and it was lopsided and uneven, with a “Happy Birthday Kquil” written with white on top. That was definitely Sirius’ handwriting, you could tell since it was the neatest part of the cake. You wonder how he could write it if you had been laying on his chest, but perhaps it was one of those mysteries you would never decipher. 

“I love it,” you said honestly, as you dipped your finger in the soft buttercream and threw it in your mouth “Did you put flavouring on it?” 

James smiled and nodded “It was Remus’s idea, to use extract of your favourite fruit.” 

You smiled at the three boys, “Now give it a bite!” Sirius said, still from behind. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief “Aren’t er gonna cut it?” 

“Nah, it’s just for us,” James said “We brought spoons and we’ll eat it straight from the plate.

“That’s ridiculous!” 

“It’s economic,” said Remus “less dishwashing.” 

You gasped “You don’t do the dishwashing, Remus! The elves do.” 

He shrugged “Yeah, less work for them, isn’t that better?” 

You scoffed but smiled, “Fine then, with spoons it is.” 

“But you still have to bite,” James insisted. 

“What for?” You asked him. 

“Cause it’s your birthday,” Sirius responded, “go ahead, give it a bite.” 

You rolled your eyes but finally leaned into the cake, close enough to give it a small bite, and then you felt a hand push your head into the cake, you sprang back out with a gasp completely surprised and feeling a little betrayed by the boys.

“What the hell was that?” 

“A tradition we read about in an old book,” James said with a shrug “They say is for good luck.” 

“Good luck my ass,” you said as you started to wipe the buttercream with your hands, until you an idea popped into your head, with your hands filled with the creamy thing and them looking at you diverted and completely unassuming, you extended your hands towards both Sirius and James’ faces, successfully slathering with the meringue. 

“How dare you?” James gasped with an amused expression. 

“I’m just sharing the luck,” you said with a shrug and a small, innocent-looking smile. 

Sirius was cleaning his face and hair, who’d also been the victim of the buttercream slathering, “Why is it that only me and James that got this mistreatment?” 

You shrugged “Something tells me it was your idea,” you said as you shrugged and grabbed some of the cream from your face and dipped it in your mouth. Remus took his wand, and with a short spell vanished all the cream from your faces. 

“Can we eat now?” he asked with a smile, handing everyone their own spoon. The cake might have been a little lacking on the decoration part, but the taste was so on point you asked James three times if he really had baked it himself. 

“He did! I saw him!” Sirius said, “He was carefully measuring the ingredients and all.” 

Maybe it’s the potioneer in him, you thought as you continued enjoying the cake, the rest of the night went on in fits of laughter and singing along to your favourite song, talking with the boys and in general just passing the time with them. It was absolutely lovely, even your sick birthday had been one of your best birthdays. 

Later that week you figured the boys had lied to you and that the “contagion prevention” potion didn’t actually exist. You smacked them playfully but took soup up to their room several times. You still had James’ tie, and the lady from the portrait seemed to always be willing to let you in.

“Go take care of your boys,” she told you one time with the same enigmatic smile as the one on your birthday.

A/N: Hope you like this little thing sweetheart, and I hope it makes you feel better, even if it’s just a lil wee bit. It sucks to be sick on your birthday, but I’m sure you’ll be back up in no time, enjoying time with friends and loved ones, lysm. 

PS. Sorry is there are any spelling mistakes, I really wanted to get this out and ready for you to read and I couldn’t spell check like usually…

#imagine #one shot #oneshot #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x reader #prongs x you #prongs #prongs x reader #the marauders era #the marauders x you #the marauders x y/n #the marauders fandom #marauders x reader #the marauders x reader #marauders smut #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #sirius black #moony #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #moony x reader #birthday fic

[just-some-random-blogger]

Edge Of Ever After | 1

Part 2

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you… you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader POV shifts!, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink, breeding kink), enemies to lovers, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: so this is a the sequel to my Safe Keeping series. both that and this is originally posted on ao3. you dont have to read the previous series to understand what's going on, but naturally, it will make more sense if you do. I've decided not to tag everyone that asked me to tag them in safe keeping because this is another series after all. ❤❤❤ hope you like it!

Brown Wood rarely ever has its lights out, as it housed so many people. Rare were the times the place succumbed to darkness. Still, there were moments when all the servants, maids, men, and women were asleep and not candle was lit.

Lord Clegane purposefully returned to Brown Wood amidst this darkness. As he opened and closed the gate with as much care as he could, determined not to make a sound, he finds himself thinking of the first time he came here with his wife, her servant, and their dog. The darkness Brown Wood was succumbed to was not the same it was now. Where once there was fearful abandonment now had peaceful slumber.

If you told him this was the childhood home of his lady's family, he'd believe you; it was a large estate, abandoned as it was. And if you add it had been abandoned once because of a plague of woodland monsters that ended killing her family, well, he'd still believe you, because damned if he doesn't.

That's where he had come from, the cursed forest.

But the Brown Wood estate was no longer cursed, and it was all because of her, the sun of this side of Westeros, his beloved wife. It was because of her that this haunted place was now bustling with life, because of his bride... that he was so eagerly avoiding.

Sandor prayed to the gods that his wife's loyal mutts would not wake to the smell of him. He prayed as he reached for the door handle that they had not slept near the fireplace in the living area, but if they did, that they were too tired to wake.

He sucks a breath and enters his home.

Darkness. Silence. Nothing.

He releases the breath as he shut the door.

Pants. Patters. Chuffs.

"Fuck."

Sandor looks down and catches flashes of dark furred creatures circling around him. One, he recognized to be Rose because of her size, got on her back legs and rested her front paws on him. The other two began to get excited as he swatted their sister away. They thought it a challenge to start playing.

He recognizes Sage as he softly barks and immediately drops on his knees to shush the dog.

Sage and his sisters come upon him and begin to lick his body. He would have tolerated it, had he not been covered in black, tar-like muck left over on his skin and armor.

"Fuck off, pups," he whispers as he pushes them away and stands. Lilac, ever the big mouth, began to bark in protest. Her barks echoed across the whole place.

"SHHH!" he silences in a panic, "you're going to wake your mum!"

His ghost nearly leaves him when he hears, "she was never asleep to begin with."

Sandor turns and finally spots the woman that had been sitting in darkness all this time. "Bloody seven, girl," he gasps in shock, "what are you doing in the dark?"

He walks over, lighting a candle on the table, then looks at her. Her eyes were dark and tired. Her arms were crossed and jaw was clenched.

He watches her stand and look him once over.

He immediately says, "I'm not injured."

She rolls her eyes and looks away, "I can tell, Hound."

His face twitches as she walks past him. He follows after but winces when she hisses that he better not keep the candle open.

And so the Hound blows the flame out and the rest of the dogs follow their master across the place.

He wants to tell her he did good today. He really did! He saved the villagers from an attack, helped them with their cow problem too! And he counted and killed 20 monsters in the fucking woods. Twenty!

But that was the fucking problem, and he knew it. Hell, even the pups knew it.

He was spending so much time trying to eviscerate the tar fucks he was barely home anymore. But what was he to do? Not kill the them and have his wife go on an expedition to fucking Volantis looking for a witch Littlefinger told her to look for? Fuck no. He would rather feel her sheer disappointment for coming home late than to have her go to a foreign land looking for answers she doesn't even know for certain she's going to get.

Sandor soon realizes she's leading him off to the bathroom. She opens the door and lights candles for him.

"The water is surely cold now, but you'll have to make due," she says as she brings a flame to four waxen cylinders. After setting them down, she shoos the pups that followed them in and closes the door once they were out. She then walks over and helps him out of his sticky armor.

Sandor thinks she's like a fairy in this light, though she was clearly displeased with him and exhausted from waiting up.

"Forgive me for staying out late," he mutters, wanting nothing but to hold her arms as she removed his top. He wouldn't dare touch her in this state though, caked in muck.

She scoffs, "I'll forgive you when you stop doing it."

Once Sandor was out of his metal top, she looks up at him and sighs, "bathe quickly."

"Aye," he nods surely, "I will."

"I cannot sleep alone."

"Aye," he says weaker, "I know."

"Yet still you make me wait for you," she retorts tiredly.

"… I thought you'd be able to sleep with the pups."

"The pups aren't you, Sandor."

"I-"

She walks off to wash her hands. Sandor scrams to help her.

Once her hands are clean, she curtsies and exits the bathroom.

"I'll be quick," he says, because he can't say 'I didn't think it through.'

She simply hums in acknowledgment.

My eyes were heavy, head was hurting. My whole body was crying out for respite, yet I could not sleep. I hear the door. I slowly open my eyes.

I feel Sandor draw near, but he doesn't lie beside me. I barely make out his form but I hear him kneel by the bed. He takes my hand slowly into his.

"Come to bed," I mumble under my breath but even I can't hear it with how low it was.

I open my eyes enough to make out his face, at least as much as the darkness would allow me.

He speaks with the softest of voices "I don't want you to go to sleep upset with me."

I don't have it in me to continue a conversation. Instead I pull away from him and scoot back.

Sandor is perfectly still on his spot.

Once there was a good space between us, I beckon him over by patting and rubbing the bed.

Sandor climbs to my side and I immediately sprawl on top of him. The smell of his body was a comfort, the feel of his form and warmth nearly made me faint.

I could feel his tension. I rub his ribs and shush him, "go to sleep."

Sandor lifts his head to look at me. After, he lets himself relax and stare at the ceiling until sleep takes him.

When I wake up, I'm laid atop my husband. My head was rested by his left collar bone and my leg was thrown across his hips.

It takes me a few moments to realize he was rubbing my thigh. Upon looking at his hand, then his face, I confirm, he was already awake.

Sandor looks at me and frowns.

I frown back and raise my brows.

He brushes my hair away from my face, "you're mighty tired, girl."

I relax and realize what the frown was for. Normally, twas I that woke up earlier. He was concerned because that was not the case today. "I cannot sleep well without you."

"Aye," he sighs. He brings his hand to the curve of my bum, "apologies."

My breathing grows heavy as he pushes my dress up.

"I feel terrible," he mutters, "let me make it up to you." Sandor kneads at my hip and sequentially pulls me atop him.

I do not say a word, I simply let him rub his hands on my thighs. I rest my palms on his chest and watch him examine my body.

His hands find their way up my nightgown and into my smallclothes. He locks eyes with me as he tugs them down, testing to see if I'd give him permission.

I lick my lips and tilt my head. I grab his wrists. We stare at each other for a moment.

"I do not like this routine," I mutter.

Sandor's face betrays him. He looks panicked.

I huff and shake my head, "you taking me because you're guilty."

He clenches his jaw.

"I do suppose is better than… nothing… but…"

My heart leaps into my throat when Sandor calls my name. It was a rare occasion when he did, as he opted pet names; it did things to me. When I tense, he takes the opportunity to pull away and grasp my wrists.

"Tell me how to make it up to you," he whispers.

Sandor and I watch each other's stillness.

After a moment of waiting, I pull my hands away and lean into him again. I prop my hands on his chest and he allows me to do as I please. After some shimmying and hovering, I rid myself of my underwear.

He watches as I toss it off the bed and straddle snuggly on his hips. I grab his wrists and bring his hands underneath my clothes, a silent encouragement to touch me.

The Hound squeezes and claws. I suppress a sound when he bucks into me. I feel my belly swirl in excitement but I do not allow my mind to be fogged before I get to say what's long overdue.

"Stop hunting at night."

Sandor releases a deep breath as he shifts upward on the bed. He licks his lips, "you know I won't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm so close to purging those fucking monsters," he mutters as his hands roam up my body.

"H-" I whimper when he kneads my breasts. I huff, "h-how do you know that?"

"Because they're few and far between," he shifts upward again and sequentially pulls my dress off me. Before I can cover myself, his mouth covers me, or more accurately my right breast.

I lean into him and grip his shoulder.

He sucks on my flesh then licks my nipple. He grips my ribs and further sinks into my bosom. He brings his face into my cleavage and begins to suck. He was intent, I knew, on leaving marks.

I feel him begin to rock his hips and I audibly react to the feel of his pants against my bare flesh.

I bite my lower lip and grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off him.

He groans and pulls me closer into him, unwilling to separate his mouth from my skin. He pushes my hair back and trails kisses up to my neck. He nips my skin before finally pulling away.

Now fully sat up, he looks at me darkly. He rubs the places he'd kissed, as if examining his work, then finally, takes his top off himself.

He stills when I fondle with his waistband. He rather unwillingly allows me to move and rid of his pants. Once it was past his bum, he pulls me back down like he was scared I'd run off.

I whimper when he does so. Sandor rids himself of his final piece of clothing.

"Dance on my cock, darling."

My breath hitches. My cheeks flush.

His hands sprawl across my thighs, covering them nearly wholly and urges me to move back and forth.

I gulp as I feel my body heat up as I maneuver my hips.

The groan that leaves his mouth is high praise to me.

I garble out a sound when his thumb rubs at my nub. He hisses when he feels the wetness there, "fuck, sweetheart. You drive a man mad."

He plays with me some more then pulls his hand away to spread the wetness across his fingers, "gods be fucking good, all this for me?"

My face burns with embarrassment. I bring my hand across my chest, "Sandor."

He perks with concern and immediately cages me in his arms. He peppers kisses down my neck, "no, my lady. I'm in awe of you."

I mewl when he digs his fingers into my hair and tugs at the roots.

"Such sweetness...." he whispers against my ear, "this for an ugly dog?"

"S-stop it," I quip and give him a shove.

He pulls back and looks down at me.

I hold his gaze and scowl, "don't speak like that."

"What? R'you saying you think me pretty?"

"I do," I retort.

He laughs and rubs my arms to warm me, as if I could be cold against him. He grabs my hips then ruts into me. I make a sound as I watch him take his hardened length and slowly sink into me. I gasp as I feel him press balls deep into me.

He shudders against my ear, "liar."

The Hound begins to thrust upward and the sounds I make are muffled by his mouth. He kisses me like he's starved, and perhaps he was.

He tightens his arms around me. He buries his face into my neck. He breathes in deeply. He sighs, "color me flattered though."

I squeak when he shoves me on my back and pushes my calves into my thighs. He grunts, "fuck ya good for it."

I screw my eyes shut and throw my head back as Sandor snaps into me. With every flick of his hips, the bed creaks and I move farther and farther down the bed. He has so push me down in place to keep me from slipping any farther. He pins me by my shoulder and brings my legs up in front of him.

My legs rest his shoulder. He kisses my ankle, "my darling wife."

The Hound persists in a rough and quick pace, hardly stopping, slowing only to tease me. He gnaws at whatever part of me his mouth can reach and grunts as he explores my body. He molds me against him, hands pawing at my flesh, touching, feeling, steadying.

I'm a toy, a chew toy of a hound, something he craves to stretch, gnaw, and tear but so is very selfish and protective of.

He rubs my belly and it pushes me on edge.

When I come, I'm exhausted; I always am.

When he comes, he's spent and hot and dripping; by extension, as am I.

Sandor curses as he gives his final thrusts. I'm shaking and raw beneath him. He eventually stops and looks down upon his destruction. He spreads the slick on my thighs. He wraps my legs around him like a belt.

"I love to see you like this," he mutters in between breaths.

I heave as I blink slowly. My eyes act like I didn't just wake up from my sleep; I feel exhausted.

"Want to see you heavy with child," he rubs my belly, "my child. Fuck. I want to see you full. Love to see you leaking but I can't have that."

I try to move my legs, he instantly prevents me, "a bit more, love."

"… my leg is cramping," I cover my face with my arm.

He presses my thighs back into my chest, "just a bit more."

Sandor was laid back in bed, tracing his wife's spine with his fingers. She was straddled around his waist, laid upon him like a blanket. He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and slowly, involuntary, they begin to breathe at the same pace.

He could not express the relief, the astonishment he felt the very first time she let him hold her. The fact was, his tongue itches to tell her, to thank her for allowing him to relish the softness of her body, the warmth of her skin, the gentleness of her, even when she did not have to, even when he was not she was not getting anything in return, not like when they had sex.

But he would not express this. For what good was thanks if he had nothing to show for?

Words are empty.

For his lady, he'd carve out every skull and lay them upon her feet. He was good at that. But words? Empty.

Sandor watches as his wife stirred and looked at him.

Her hair was wild, skin sticky, eyes heavy, lips swollen. If gods were real, she was one of them.

"I think we should get dressed, husband."

His stomach skips at the name. He hated that he was so affected by it when he knew that it was duty to her; all she could feel for him was borne out of duty.

He brushes her hair back and nods, "I will not keep you longer than you'd like."

He notices how she purses her lips. He notices how she smiles. A dutiful smile.

Sandor smiles back. He wishes she'd grin at him the way she did her pups but he was hardly anything to grin about.

He watches as she pushes herself up and stands. He watches as she grabs her shift from the floor and heads to the bathroom.

Sandor rolls on the bed, breathing in the scent of their fucking… their love making. He loved her.

How could he love her if he hurt her?

He sighs and fantasizes about his wife being with child. He wonders if she'd like him more or stop caring for him once that happens.

He shakes it out of his head before he makes himself sad.

Later that day, he's back to training the boys how not to get themselves killed with their own swords. They've learned to be punctual all on their own (Polly snitches on whoever was late for the day, though he's never really set a time when practice starts).

Sage liked watching practice. He never did anything besides walk around and sniff whatever he could put his nose to, but he was always there. In some way, Sandor was very touched by this.

He was very protective of the pup, and found himself watching the small creature more than the kids he's supposed to be teaching.

But of course, he doesn't give a fuck about anyone else when his wife comes out.

"Sandor."

Immediately, Sandor turns around and perks up at the sound of the voice. Unbeknownst to him, the rest of the people in the yard do as well.

Lucy walks next to her lady. She holds a basket in one hand while she brings the other around her lady's arm. He feels a bitterness in his mouth, a bitter envy over the comfort the two women had with each other. He knows he'll never have that with his wife, but it doesn't hurt him any less.

"Lucy and I will go out to the market."

He drops everything and steps forward, "I'll accompany you."

Sage sticks his tongue out as he runs towards his beloved master, as if he understood the conversation, as if saying he, too, would be coming.

Sandor takes one look at the pup and says, "you sure as fuck 're not invited, dog."

Lady Clegane hushes the dog and reiterates a puppy cannot join them, then she looks up at Lord Clegane, "you do not have to join us either."

Sandor doesn't argue, he simply looks at Lucy, who was giving him a greasy look, and heads off to the gates.

Sandor had absolutely no idea which part of the market they were headed, so when they got there, he constantly glanced over his shoulder until eventually, his wife stopped at a vegetable stand. He turns back and hovers by them.

"Do you think we should get pumpkins?" Lady Clegane asks while absentmindedly holding an onion.

Lucy tilts her head, "we could but I don't think I could carry it."

"I'll carry it," Sandor chirps.

The two turn to him. His wife smiles and Lucy grins like a fool.

They end up buying a pumpkin that was nearly the size of his head.

Sandor is unable to make out what the two women were talking about as they walked in front of him because of how many people waved good morning or greeted him far too jovially. At a point, the women had to stop as Sandor got held up by a crowd of people wanting to have small talk with him.

Like a star, his wife saves him with her shining smile, garnering all the attention of the people for herself and quickly dispelling it. He has no idea how she does it.

They move on after and then his wife spots a stand of strawberries. He vaguely hears her excitedly tell Lucy how much she loves strawberry pie. Lucy tells her she knows this in the same excited way.

Lady Clegane is allowed to sample a strawberry. The Hound catches himself smiling at the way his wife savored the fruit.

They buy a basket full of strawberries and, just as Lucy and her lady walk away, Sandor asks the vendor where he could strawberry seeds. He doesn't get a straight answer right away and by the time he does, the women have walked off quite far.

Thankfully, by the time they notice their Hound was missing, Sandor managed to come back with a pouch of strawberry seeds in his pocket. He doesn't say anything about it though.

When they get back to Brown Wood, he immediately asks the groundskeeper, Job, if he could help him plant strawberries.

One of the servant girls, Margaret, was helping me out today. I was attempting to bake strawberry pie, and after three failed attempts, it was shaping up to be a futile task.

Margaret, face flushed and temples moistened with sweat, placed the fourth pie she fetched from the oven onto the kitchen counter. I frown as she wipes her forehead on her sleeve but play it off when she turns to me with a grin. Margaret says, "it smells so good, milady."

I give her back a smile, "I am glad to hear it."

She watches as I grab the knife and lean onto the counter. She says, "I'm very, very, very sure that we managed to make the pie just the way you like it."

I chuckle at the girl and place a hand on her shoulder, "I would hope so. I feel terrible for taking you from your chores, Margaret."

She perks and immediately shakes her head and hands, "don't be, milady! We all of us love helping you out," she brushes her hair away from her face, "even if we have to make twenty more pies to suit your taste, I would not complain."

I laugh softly as I take a towel and hold the hot pie tin in place. I take a slice of the dessert, though it was still scalding, and transfer it to my plate. I then move it towards the 3 other pies on the counter.

The truth is, there was nothing wrong with the pies. I had Margaret help me with making them precisely because she knew how to and I didn't. It's just that they didn't taste like the ones in my childhood, and I could not take it.

There was a pit in my stomach because of my lacking attempts. It was not of hunger, make no mistake, it was of longing.

I take a forkful of pie from my plate and take my time blowing some air on to the jammy thing before taking it into my mouth.

Margaret watches me with anticipation as I chew.

I look at her hopeful eyes, wanting nothing but to tell her we finally did it, but I supply her the truth, "it still tastes different."

Margaret deflates. I place the fork down on my plate as I lick my lips.

"Although the lemon and the cream did help a lot," I offer as consolation.

The girl perks and claps her hands, "then we're on the right path!"

I clear my throat and smile.

"Perhaps we can try adding other fruits into it. Or maybe you can try to recall some more details about the pie? Like a smell? Vanilla is hard to miss."

"Mmm, I don't think they added vanilla." I push the plate towards Margaret, "have a try, but be careful. It's still piping hot."

She grins at me, "thank you, milady!" then grins at the pie, taking her own fork.

I laugh at her, feeling a giddy sensation as I watch her lean forward as she takes a slice.

Margaret was the youngest out of the servant girls. She was 10 and 5 but looked quite mature for her age because of her height and fuller figure. Her demeanor was fully that of a darling girl though. Her parents used to be bakers. She told me she does not remember where their bodies were buried, so she occasionally offers prayers for them at an oak tree she used to swing on.

I imagine what it would be like for me to have my own child here in this moment. Would they also like strawberry pie? Would they care to help make it? Would they smile at me like Margaret?

I look up and see the Hound marching over. He looked a bit winded, and I figure he came from training. My belly tingles as we make eye contact.

Margaret finally takes a bite and she quite literally jumps up. She covers he mouth as she speaks, "THIS IS DELICIOUS!"

I giggle, "is it really?"

"By the gods, milady. You mean to tell me what you used to eat was better than this?"

I chuckle and watch as Sandor walks over. He heads for the cupboard where he immediately snatches a bottle of wine. He uncorks it with a pop and chugs it.

"Ehm, in a word it is," I reply to Margaret, "all I know is that it tastes different. I can't quite figure what however."

Sandor lets out a satisfied breath as he pulls the bottle away from his lips. He walks towards me, and it seems as though Margaret noticed him only now, judging by the way she jolted back and quickly greeted him.

The Hound ignores her though as he scrutinizes the countertop. He turns to me, "been baking all day, have you, little girl?"

I part my lips and battle with myself on a response. On one hand, I want to nag about how I was suddenly little girl again, but then again I quite enjoyed how his lips subtly curved upward as he spoke it.

Margaret steps back as Sandor takes up all the space by my side.

Although it was not glaringly obvious, there was a look of amusement in my husband's eyes. He sets the wine next to the pie slice and leans on the counter to get eye level with me, "you gonna give me a taste?"

I watch as he licks his lips and catch the way the wine stained them.

And so, to ward off my inner turmoil, I nag him about that instead, "alright. A slice in return for this," I snag the wine bottle, shocked by how he managed to drink it half empty already, though I really shouldn't. "You've had enough wine for today, Hound."

Sandor straightens up, dumbfounded by the turn of events. He shifts on his spot to watch me hand over the wine to Margaret, "get me a pitcher of water, my dear."

"Fuck water," Sandor scoffs.

Margaret looks between me and Sandor, heavily unsure and anxious of what to do next.

"Give me the bottle, wench," the Hound barks.

Margaret gulps and I take a step between them.

"Stop it," I scowl at him.

"But-"

"You won't enjoy the flavor of the pie if you ruin your tongue with wine." I look over and dismiss Margaret. She quickly curtsies and runs off.

"Hey- GIVE IT BA-"

"Stop it!" I grab his shoulders, "quit scaring the girl!"

The Hound walks back as I push him, "she took my wine!"

"You can have wine at supper," I quip, "if you're going to have pie, just have pie."

Sandor huffs as I release him. I then take my fork and slice a chunk for him. I bring the fork to my lips and take a moment to blow on the pie. Once it's cool enough, I bring my fork towards Sandor, my other hand underneath it to catch any falling crumbs. I get on my tiptoes to have a better hold on the fork.

He pulls his head back at first, but two seconds later, he leans in and takes a bite.

I relax on the pads of my feet and put the fork down.

He chews as he looks down on me.

I stare up at him with expectation.

He licks his lips and nods, "it's good."

I wait for him to say anything more but he doesn't. I press my lips into a line, "that's nice to hear."

He looks at me for a moment, hums, and tilts his head, "what do I owe you, then?"

"What?"

"What do I owe you?"

I raise my brows.

"Want me to feed you next?" he raises a brow.

I furrow my brows, "no…? You don't owe me anything."

He hums and shakes his head, "how about a kiss?"

"What?"

Sandor smiles lopsidedly. He bends and places his hands on my waist, yanking me into him. My body blazes with crackling flames as I'm pressed against him.

Before he can lean in, I push him by his chest with both hands. I immediately turn my face away and quip with my eyes shut, "you don't have to kiss me!"

I hold my breath. Sandor watches. Slowly, whatever expression he held slips off and gets tugged down along with the corners of his lips.

He releases me and I catch my breath. Sandor feels like his hands and arms were foreign appendages that had no business being on him. He awkwardly clenches and unclenches his fists.

I turn back to him with knit brows. He looks at me with a hard expression.

"You don't owe me things, Sandor."

His expression tightens.

I huff and place a hand on his chest, "I don't do things so… you have to repay me…"

A deep line forms between his brows.

I shake my head, shrug and smile softly, "I do them because I want to… you should only do the same."

He sighs through his nostrils and takes the hand I had on his chest. He brings it into his large ones and looks at them.

He opens his mouth and speaks so softly, under his breath, "you have such a strong sense of duty."

I blink at his words, thinking they somehow feel out of context. I figure it was true anyway, so I agree, "a sense of duty keeps me together."

Sandor turns back to me, "just as your duty being my wife."

I raise my brows.

He kisses the back of my hand before setting it down. He nods at me as he mutters, "I want what you want… If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

My eyes widen, "I- I didn't say that."

He chuckles dryly, "you pulled away so fervently."

"Because you asked me what you owed!" I exclaimed, "you don't owe me."

He laughs a bit louder, "everything's got a price."

For a moment we stare at each other.

"Then how much do I owe you?"

He seems to thinks for a moment. He offers no response.

I suck in a breath, "if you want to kiss me, kiss me. Kiss me because you want to, not because… you owe me." I feel pathetic as I add, "I do not wish to buy your affection."

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

I feel my mouth go dry. It's as though my voice is taken from me and I barely manage to croak out a, "yes."

It takes too long. The Hound does not believe it. He shakes his head and says with no conviction, "very well."

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane fanfic #the hound #the hound fanfic #sandor clegane x reader #sandor the hound clegane #sandor fluff #sandor x reader #sandor fanfic #sandor clegane smut #sandor clegane fic #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fluff #sandor fic #game of thrones #game of thrones fic #sandor smut #game of thrones fanfic #sandor clegane angst #sandor angst

[sam24]

Metal Arm Cupid

Summary: Bucky didn't know what to expect in the 21st century. But he definitely didn't expect cute girls to barge into meeting rooms and beat people up.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky made no attempt to stifle his yawn as he pretended to listen to the debrief (that was looking more like an argument to him) that was going on way too long for his liking, earning a sharp glare from Steve, but Bucky could tell that deep down, Steve wanted to hightail outta there too.

“Stop taking all the credit, Josh. I was the one who stabbed him. You just sat there and watched like an obese cow.”

Josh (Bucky thought his name was Jack until now) scoffed. “That’s Agent 16 to you, Avery.”

“It’s actually Avril, you little-”

“Agents, you better stop this instantly.” Fury narrowed his eyes at the bickering partners.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the Avengers, Evelyn, and let me do the talking. Clearly you can’t because of those oversized donkey teeth of yours.” Josh paid no heed to Fury.

The girl (Avril?) gasped and her hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth. “Why you-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A dangerously calm voice rang through the room.

All eyes flew towards Natasha, you looked like she was going to murder the next person who opened their mouth.

“This is why I don’t go on missions with sensitive baby agents.” She muttered in Russian.

Bucky cracked a smile.

“How come no one listens to me?” Fury grumbled.

“Probably because you aren’t a trained assassin with 20 different weapons hidden on your body, and I bet you also don’t know 5 different ways to kill someone with an oven mitt.” Clint whispered in Fury’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter who stabbed who, it matters what happened in the end. And in the end, I was the one you saved your ungrateful asses, so you can stop arguing like toddlers now.” Natasha growled.

Her eyes narrowed specifically at Josh.

Nobody spoke. Probably because no sane person wanted a bullet from Natasha’s gun in their head.

“You seriously couldn’t have done that 20 minutes ago?”

Of course, though, Tony Stark was far from sane.

“Shut up, Tony.” At least 5 different people said at the same time.

Josh cleared his throat, recovering from his mini paralysis stroke.

“No offense, but-”

Before Josh could get himself killed, loud voices outside of the door made everyone turn.

Honestly, they all probably would’ve turned even to watch a fly so they could ignore Josh’s excuses.

“Miss, I can’t let you-”

“I really don’t care, so move. Now.”

Bruce immediately sat up. “Is that Ace?”

“Oh, thank god.” Tony let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so bored right now, maybe she’ll make this actually interesting.”

Even though Bucky’s stay at the compound started recently, he had heard plenty of stories about you, the infamous ‘Ace’. To what he’d heard, you worked at the lab with Bruce and Tony, like a daughter to them both. You were an ‘intellectual sage’ (described by Barton), hence the nickname, Ace.

“I said, MOVE!”

“Banner, what is the meaning of this?” Fury ordered.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and completely ignored him. “What in the world is she doing?”

“Banner!”

“I SAID MOVE, DAMNIT.” A loud thud followed closely and the door was flung open so hard it practically ripped off of its hinges.

“Lord have mercy.” Bruce buried his face into his hands as you barged into the room, pulling along a terrified looking girl behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised with interest as he took in your purple highlights, Converse High-Tops, and Gravity Falls shirt peeking out from under your lab coat.

“Look, missy, in case you haven’t noticed, this is a private meeting. I’m going to give you 5 seconds to leave before I have you escorted out instantly.” Fury demanded.

“Yeah, that’s cool, Patchy the Pirate, just give me a minute.” You weren’t even looking at Fury as you scanned the room.

“Ha! Patchy the Pirate! Laura’s gonna love this!” Clint smacked his hand on the table and leaned his chair back (and almost fell backwards if Steve didn’t catch it, but that’s not the point).

Fury looked like he was seriously contemplating life as you still didn’t spare him a glance, and your narrowed hawk eyes landed on someone behind Bucky.

He followed your gaze to meet Josh, who had raised two fingers in the air cockily to greet you and the girl behind you.

“Josh, you mother fucker.”

And before Steve could say ‘language!’ (yes, Bucky had caught on pretty quickly after Tony would say it every other sentence), you had crossed the room in what felt like just two strides and socked Josh right in the jaw.

The room erupted in chaos.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Steve was up on his feet in a millisecond, his Captain America side taking over.

“That’s it, honey! Do it again!” Tony cheered.

“Is this some kind of Midgardian greeting that I have not yet been informed of?”

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on in my own meeting!”

“That was the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Avril grinned.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but her face clearly said ‘girl, me too’.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Sam chuckled from next to Bucky.

“Same.” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Whoa hold up, did you just agree with me??”

“Shut up, pigeon brain.”

“Excu-”

The only thing that stopped Sam and Bucky’s cat fight was another punch to Josh’s precious face, this time right in the nose.

Bruce tried to reason with you from across the whole ass room, practically shouting over all the commotion as Steve tried to pull you away from Josh.

“Ace, sweetheart, why don’t you talk it out instead of going straight to violence? Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?”

“Sounds great, Bruce, but that’s not an option anymore!” You shouted back over your shoulder.

“Look, champ, it’s not right to randomly punch people like that!” Steve was still trying to pry you away from Josh.

“Look, Pops,” You mocked. “It’s also not right to cheat on your girlfriend with some random chick you ran into at a bar!”

Everything stopped.

Except Josh’s struggling from your grasp.

“He cheated on you?” Tony broke the silence, looking like he was going to blast Josh into outer space. “Wait, when were you guys even together? And why in the goddamn world would you date that guy?”

“Not me, dimwit, her.” You point your free hand that was not gripped on Josh’s collar at the girl behind you, looking ready to sprint out of there when all eyes landed on her.

“Just leave it, ma moitié, it’s not worth it.” She said quietly, her words coated in a thick french accent.

Bucky recognized her as the nice agent who gave him a coffee last week after Sam ‘accidentally’ knocked over Bucky’s.

“Just leave it? Absolutely not, hun!”

“Listen to her, Ace.” Bruce pleaded.

“No! This sleazy bastard cheated on my best friend! No fucking way! Literally, who the hell would cheat on a cute french girl?”

“Ace, violence isn’t the right way to-”

“Excuse me?” Josh’s voice rang out, sounding like someone was holding his nose closed shut. “Can someone get me an ice pack?”

You whipped around towards him.

“You. Want. An. Ice pack.” You restated, shooting daggers- no, 7 inch sharp kitchen knives at him.

“My nose hurts.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Y’know, after you turned all Crazy Psycho Lady on me and broke it.”

“You know what?” Your smile dripped with bitterness and sarcasm. “How about I punch it again so it’ll go numb and it won’t hurt anymore?”

You reached your arm backwards to land another punch, but Steve rushed to grab you again, and the chaos resumed.

Tony was instructing you to “kick Steve in the balls and resume beating the shit out of Josh”, while Bruce was very strongly vetoing the idea.

Sam and Clint, meanwhile, were placing bets on how much the medical bill was gonna be.

Suddenly, Bruce rushed over to Bucky.

“Look, man, you gotta help me.”

Bucky looked at Bruce with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah! If you tell her to stop, she would in a heartbeat!”

“Why?” Bucky knew where this was going.

“Because of your metal arm!”

Bucky’s heart sank. Of course you were scared of it. Everyone was. They thought it made him a monster.

So did he.

Even though he was so, so grateful to Shuri for trying to help him feel like a new person with a new arm that wasn’t associated with HYDRA, that bloody ruthless murderer that they made him into never seemed to leave.

He would always be him.

No matter how hard he tried, the memories followed him like a lost puppy, attacking at night when he was trying to sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake off the imprint HYDRA had left on him.

No matter how hard he tried or how much Steve told him otherwise, Bucky was still a monster.

A cruel, cold-hearted, evil monster who killed the innocent.

Who killed innocent men, women, and children who didn’t deserve to be killed.

He was the one who deserved to be killed.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with it!”

Bucky choked on his spit.

“Wha-w-what?”

“She adores it.” Bruce rushed. “She says it’s, and I quote, the most beautiful and extraordinary thing to ever be made in history.”

Okay, so apparently Bucky did not know where that was going.

“Still not convinced?” Bruce groaned. “She thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the galaxy. She says it’s the ‘peak of engineering’. You can ask Tony if you still don’t believe me.”

Tony wasn’t extremely fond of Bucky, and neither was Bucky of him, so he decided to take Bruce’s word for it, no matter how much it shocked him.

She likes my arm?

Just because she likes your arm doesn’t mean she likes you, idiot.

“Uh, okay? So, um, what do I do?”

“Tell her to stop!” Bruce lightly shoved Bucky forward when he slowly got up out of his seat.

Bucky hesitantly took a step forward, his mind still trying to process everything.

Bucky maneuvered around Steve, tapping you - who was still out to get it for Josh- on the shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

“Bruce, I already told you, it’s too late-” You spun out of Steve’s grip, but your mouth dropped open when you realized it was not Bruce.

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes. But not out of fear.

Out of adoration.

He was struck with a sudden flash of nostalgia of how his mom looked at him when he gave her a card for Mother’s Day when he was 6.

"Oh, Jamie, I love it.” She had said as she read it with a soft smile.

And that same smile was on your face. “Um, hi there.”

He smiled back.

But not one of those fake smiles he put on to make Steve happy. An actual genuine smile.

And it felt good.

You smoothed out your coat, taking in a breath. “Can I help you?”

Steve stared at the two of you, a grin spreading onto his face.

“I’m not surprised. Those psychos are perfect for each other.” Josh rolled his eyes.

Neither of you heard him.

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

“She knows.” Tony groaned.

“Shut up, Tony.” Your eyes never left Bucky’s. “Hi Bucky.”

He saw your eyes light up as they made their way to look at his metal arm.

Bruce cleared his throat loudly.

“So, um, Ace. The arm has been giving me a bit of trouble recently. I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at it?” Bucky glanced at Bruce before looking back at you.

“He means now.” Bruce added.

You looked like you were going to faint out of excitement.

“Y-yeah, of course.”

Bruce let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Um, actually.” Bucky started.

Bruce’s head shot up and started mouthing something to Bucky - probably something along the lines of ‘No! Get her out of here before she kills him!’- but he was busy looking at you.

“Maybe you wanna grab a coffee first?”

#marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #crack fic

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: set during top gun: maverick, instructor!mav, established relationship, thigh riding, slight praise

word count: 1734

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

You weren’t expecting him home yet.

He must’ve gotten home while you were in the shower.

Brushing through your freshly conditioned hair, you swing your bedroom door open and catch the sight of him on the couch. You nearly beam with excitement from down the hall until you realize he’s very visibly sulking.

Even at the sound of the door opening, and your steps, he doesn’t look up. His sage green bomber lies carelessly beside him, like he’d just removed it and tossed it there. Arms crossed over his plain white tee, his face is pensive, his eyebrows tight. 

“Baby, is everything alright?” you ask in a soft voice, standing where the hallway ends and the living room begins.

You seemingly startle him, and he looks up at you. Then there’s the immediate Maverick-style smile: the kind where his eyes remain downcast, his lips pulled together loosely in a shallow attempt at hiding whatever is bothering him. The kind of smile where he still looks sad. 

You’ve been seeing it a lot lately, ever since your sudden move to North Island. It hadn’t been so bad at first, but the mission was getting closer. He was smiling less, his eyebrows tight on his face. Constantly thinking. You couldn’t do anything about it, either, and it frustrated you a bit. The only option you had was offering comfort, which usually fell short with Pete. Not very keen on comfort and assurance.. Very much on sulking and impulse decisions. 

Still, you believed in him. And you had the utmost amount of trust in his ability to get his pilots through whatever the mission required.

“Why are you home so early?” 

“Fight broke out. Dismissed everybody.” He momentarily shuts his eyes, drags a hand down his face and takes a deep breath. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, leaning against the wall. 

It’s then that he visibly takes in your appearance, his brow cocking ever so slightly. 

Underwear, oversized shirt and your fluffiest white socks. Cheeks pink from a warm shower.

You watch the intrigue grow on his face.

At your question, he chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, signaling you over with two fingers. “No. Come here.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. 

When he’s able to reach you, he immediately pulls you to him. You land on his thigh, almost kneeing his crotch. You snicker for a second, but then situate yourself, cupping his face in both hands. In a serious tone,  “Are you sure? How do you feel?”

Mav just shushes you, choosing to place his attention on you instead of on the lingering cloud of stress hanging above him. You gradually sink into him as he leans up to press his lips to your collarbone. Very soft, gentle kisses, the tip of his tongue teasing your skin. Your hand absentmindedly finds the back of his head, fingers in his short, dark hair. His mouth always takes you by surprise, how good he is at making you feel with it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a small groan escaping you as his tongue connects to his favorite spot on your neck.

“You look good,” he murmurs against you, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulls you forward, even closer.

His words go straight to the pit of your stomach, igniting your desire; the urge to feel every bit of him under you. “I do?” It’s almost like an immediate itch, and your hips involuntarily roll against him for friction. He looks up from kissing along your neck, tensing his thigh when he feels it. He stares at you, pensive. 

“Is that what you want?” he wonders in a dangerously low voice.

You don’t respond, biting your lip in anticipation instead. Not that he gives you time to respond anyway, immediately deciding what it is he wants to do. 

Mav swipes two fingers on his tongue, the sight alone nearly making you moan and then you have to actually bite one back when they immediately travel under your shirt and into the band of your underwear.

Pleasure buds at your core and you squeal in excitement as the wet pads of his fingers pry at your slit. He touches you roughly, eager to turn you on and have you grinding down on him as soon as he can. The thing is, you’re already turned on—were at the first sight of him, really, with that scowl on his face, knowing that he likes it when you help him relax sometimes. It feels like it’s the opposite right now, though, Mav eliciting a wet warmth over his fingers and onto your underwear. Your body beams in ecstasy; it’s just two of his fingers but it’s enough to have your head rolling back slightly, your hips bucking against his hand, needing more.

The tension in your muscles begins to unravel, and, at the same time, one grows in your lower abdomen. When Maverick decides his fingers are drenched enough, he removes his hand. You whine, low in the back of your throat, at the sudden emptiness. You instinctively roll your hips against his thigh again, but he grabs at your waist, interrupting you.

“Get your clothes off,” he orders, sneaking a finger into the band of your underwear and pulling it so that it snaps against your skin. 

His hand is already under your shirt, and he aids you in removing it and tossing it off to the side, your torso now bare to him. There’s a growing desperation inside you, something he started that you need to finish, and so you barely remove yourself from his thigh to take your underwear off. If there was anything sexy about this, it certainly wasn’t the way you pulled on the stretchy band of your garment, leaning forward against Mav as you wrestled it down your legs. With your tits in his face, it’s Mav’s turn to snicker, grip strong on your ribs as you flop around on his lap in a harder-than-it-should-be attempt at stripping. You just really didn’t wanna have to be off of him for even a second. Not when he’s got you this hot and ready for him.

The material of his Levi’s is slightly rough on your skin, but you don’t mind, seating yourself on the meat of his thigh. With his hands around your torso, you fully expect him to guide you against him until he removes them completely, a very tiny smile on his lips. 

“Mav,” you whine.

Tiny smile aside, Mav’s eyes are dark with perversity. “Work for it, come on, sweetheart,” he urges, tone sweet and entirely condescending.

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for a bit of leverage, your hips immediately rolling against him.

Maverick leans back against the couch and it leans you forward too, your clit roughly dragging along the dampening material. Your noises are whiney, impatient, and they go straight to Mav’s cock, half-hard and trapped in his jeans. Your knee rubbing up against it with each motion certainly isn’t helping, either. You know, though, that no matter how hard Maverick was aching to fuck you, he was always willing to power through if it meant that he got to play with you first. Him and that fucking ego—but God, it feels so good. He’s allowed to play with you as much as he wants, you decide, mid-haze. 

Your fingers bunch up the material of his shirt, nails nearly clawing through at the skin of his shoulders as you buck against him. Maverick just watches patiently, hands at his side, ignoring his hard on. The corner of his mouth is still pulled up slightly, eyes still dark. He fucking loves seeing you like this.

You roll your hips again and again, drunk on the pleasure and on the scent of Mav’s cologne. Through your daze—and frankly, the lack of touch on his part—you find yourself gravitating closer and closer, mouth lingering on his jaw. He doesn’t deny you, but he remains nonchalant, watching you. 

Heat spreads in your cheeks under his tantalizing gaze. He’s unfortunately way too good at intimidating you. A part of you feels small, vulnerable, exposed—how could you not? Sitting here fully bare, grinding down on his clothed thigh, grasping at his shirt for any sort of skin to skin contact like it were your one mission on Earth—but the other part of you doesn’t really care. You’ll play his game. Not just because it always leaves you gasping and whining for more, but because you know how much he likes it. You enchant him just as much as he does you.

Maverick suppresses a tiny groan when your knee brushes his aching cock again, but tries to remain collected as you near your orgasm. He’s not going to touch you until you’re cumming, he’s decided.

His jeans are soaked through when you’re eventually seconds away, which make it a bit easier to rub against, your hips rolling faster and faster as your moans spill near his ear.

“Good girl,” he praises softly, turning his face slightly to press his cheek to yours. “Look at you.”

You practically feel your pulse in your core at the sound of his voice, and it shoots through you like a pinball, settling into the tight knot in your stomach. “Touch me,” you gasp, hands roughly finding the back of his neck and wrapping around the back of his shoulders as the pleasure inside you reaches its peak. “Please.”

Maverick cocks a brow again—he fucking loves giving you that look—but you close your eyes in bliss as it washes over you, the white hot blaze licking you all over. You gasp again and again, and it’s then that Maverick’s arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him as you ride the wave. 

“Just like that, baby,” he whispers, a hand tangling in your hair as you twitch in his grip. 

Your grasp on him is probably stronger, holding onto him like you’re scared you’ll slide right off and melt into the floor.

You don’t, though, gradually sinking into his warm embrace instead. Your head rolls onto his shoulder as you float through your high. There’s a tiny stinging feeling down below where your skin dragged along the rough material, but you feel good. A bit more relaxed, even. You hope, as he smiles at you lovingly, that he does, too.

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fic #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun maverick x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick x you #pete maverick mitchell x reader #top gun 1986 #* #mav #kinktober 2023 #tom cruise x reader #pete mitchell #top gun headcanons

[genshinluvr]

Keep Your Voice Down

Pairings: Al Haitham x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Al Haitham fucks you on the Grand Sage's desk at House of Daena. You tried your best to keep your voice down, but the feeling of Al Haitham hammering your insides with his fat cock makes it hard for you to keep your mouth shut.

Note: This is part of my ongoing Isekai'd!Reader series. Any individual character mini-fics are part of the Isekai'd!Reader series ^^ The mini-fics is made to give each man a decent amount of screen time compared to the stories that are much longer and can be posted at any time within less than 5k words. As previously stated in my other smuts, the smuts that I type out do lean toward female!reader/afab!reader. I do use gender-neutral pronouns unless stated otherwise. It's been a while since I've written smut, so this is just to test out the waters since it has been months since I have published smut. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT! Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Horribly written smut, public sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on a desk, hair pulling, Al Haitham spitting in your mouth, light choking, slight voyeurism

You don’t know how you ended up in this position; the last thing you remember is Al Haitham showing you the Grand Sage’s office that sits at the very top of House of Daena. Al Haitham greeted you while you were studying and offered to show you what the Grand Sage’s office looked like because he knew you were curious about it and had asked him and Kaveh a few times.

When the two of you took the elevator up to the Grand Sage’s office, standing side by side. The Grand Sage’s office is bigger than you had expected it to be. Not only was the office big, but it was also quite spacious. Despite it being a big office with bookshelves towering over you two, it feels a little bit empty. You remembered Al Haitham wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest when the both of you approached the Grand Sage’s desk.

“We’re not going to get into trouble, are we?” You ask, looking up at Al Haitham as he tilts your head up and leans down. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours, his right hand caressing your face.

Al Haitham whispers, “We won’t get caught as long as you keep your voice down.” Al Haitham closes the distance between you two.

Your surroundings become blurry afterward, and you find yourself propped up on the Grand Sage’s desk. Your arms are trembling beneath you; both of your hands are planted on the wooden desk, and sweat trickles down your face and splatters on the Grand Sage’s desk. A small whimper escapes from your lips as you shut your eyes tightly, biting down on your lips as you try to refrain from letting out a single sound. The feeling of Al Haitham’s cock sliding in and out of your entrance makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Remember to keep your voice down. You don’t want to get caught now, do you?” Al Haitham murmurs into your ears, wrapping his left arm around your waist while his right-hand pulls you close to him.

You let out an audible gasp when Al Haitham sends a powerful thrust into your heat. You clench your jaws, and your arms collapse underneath you. Al Haitham’s hands make their way up to your hair; he weaves his hands into the strands of your hair and pulls your hair back while continuously thrusting his cock into you. 

You whimper softly and claw at the wooden table. “We’re going to get caught, Al Haitham,” you whine softly. Your body jerks with each thrust. You feel the tip of Al Haitham’s cock kiss your cervix, causing you to wince and let out a choked gasp. 

Al Haitham chuckles and reaches for your neck, pulling your head back and pressing his lips against your temple. “The only time we’ll get caught is if you don’t keep your voice down,” Al Haitham murmurs into your ears.

“I-I’m trying to keep my voice down! But—” Your sentence is cut off when Al Haitham thrusts deeply into your entrance. Your hands fly up to grab Al Haitham’s biceps, digging your nails into his arms. “Fuck,” you breathed.

Al Haitham snorts. “But what?” Al Haitham smirks. He grabs onto your chin and turns your head to the side, and gazes into your eyes with a teasing smile on his face. Al Haitham continues to ram his thick cock into your warm cavern, pressing his hips against your ass. Al Haitham tugs on your hair to grab your attention; you look up at him, eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, your tongue lolled out of your mouth. 

“Aw, look at you. You’re so drunk on my cock that you can’t even speak,” Al Haitham mocks, pouting down at you. You take deep gulps of air and squeeze your eyes shut when you feel embarrassment prick at you. You open your mouth to reply, but Al Haitham quickly pulls his dick out of you and forces you to lie down on the Grand Sage’s desk. Al Haitham spreads your legs open and rubs his cock between your legs, coating them in your slick before penetrating your hole again. 

You squeal loudly when he enters back into your wet heat, balls deep inside of you. 

Al Haitham covers your mouth with his left hand before hissing, “I told you to keep your voice down! I don’t care how far up we are in House of Daena; people are going to hear us if you can’t keep quiet.”

You huff and wrap your legs around his slim waist, pulling him closer to you to the point where his hips are pressing up against your open legs. “We wouldn’t get caught in the act if we did this at the estate instead,” You grumble. 

A deep grunt gets caught in your throat when Al Haitham slams his hip against your hips, the mushroom tip of his cock kissing your g-spot. Your eyes shut tightly, and every time Al Haitham plunges his cock in and out of you, stars dance behind your eyelids. Al Haitham’s hands slide up to your neck and lightly squeeze them, cutting off your air supply.

“Open your mouth,” Al Haitham orders, clenching his jaws and thrusting into your core with each word.

You whimper and open your mouth reluctantly. Al Haitham leans down and gathers his saliva before spitting into your mouth. He closes your mouth with the hand that was lightly choking you. You stare up at Al Haitham with glazed-over eyes while his spit remains in your mouth.

“Swallow,” Al Haitham instructs.

You gulp down Al Haitham’s saliva and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show that you swallowed his saliva. Al Haitham smirks and presses his lips on your forehead. Al Haitham rests both of his arms over your shoulders, pressing his chest against yours (technically, his chest is on your face, but close enough), rutting his hips against yours. 

With each roll of his hips, his pubic bone rubs against your bundle of nerves, making you jolt in his arms, and your walls clench around his thick cock. You bite down on your lips until you taste copper; you tighten your legs around Al Haitham’s waist and begin moving along with him. Al Haitham reaches down and begins to rub the swollen and throbbing spongy tissue, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and index finger.

You jolt beneath Al Haitham, clawing at his biceps and arms as you get closer and closer to your climax. The knot in your lower stomach is about to break at any moment as Al Haitham drills his dick into your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake him frantically, “Al Haitham, I’m cumming!” You whisper loudly, the pitch of your voice getting higher.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum around my cock,” Al Haitham growls. Al Haitham clenches his jaws and slams his cock into you over and over, relishing in the feeling of your tight spongey walls squeezing around his cock. 

You let out a breathless gasp, back arching, your head is thrown back against the desk, and the tight knot that was once in your lower stomach suddenly breaks. You cum around Al Haitham’s cock, biting down on his shoulders to muffle your screams. Al Haitham lets out a deep groan, shooting his hot, thick, creamy cum deep inside of you. Al Haitham takes a deep breath and collapses on top of you without removing his cock from your entrance, plugging in your and his cum.

“You were supposed to keep your voice down, Al Haitham,” you whisper, poking his large biceps lightly with a tired grin on your face.

Al Haitham snorts and rolls his eyes, scratching your head lightly. He lifts himself off of you slightly and gazes down at you with a soft look on his face. Al Haitham brushes the strands of your hair away from your sweaty forehead and tucks them behind your ears.

“How are you feeling?” Al Haitham asks softly, twirling a piece of your hair around his finger.

You hesitate for a moment and give him a smile. “Full and sore,” you reply, earning a snort from Al Haitham.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. I was going easy on you,” He reaches down and pinches your cheeks lightly. 

Your eyes widen, and you prop yourself up on the Grand Sage’s desk. “That was you going easy on me?!” You ask, looking at Al Haitham incredulously. 

Al Haitham nods. “That is correct.”

Before you can say anything else, Al Haitham slowly pulls his softening cock out from your entrance. Both of you groan and let out shaky breaths. You pull your pants and underwear up while Al Haitham tucks his dick back into his underwear and zips up his pants. You adjust your Akademiya uniform and hop off the table. Your legs suddenly feel like jello, making you collapse into Al Haitham’s arms.

“Oh? It looks like I went hard on you after all,” Al Haitham hums, looking down at you with an amused look on his face, smiling down at you, his eyebrow quirked up. 

“You two are disgusting,” A voice interrupts you and Al Haitham.

Your and Al Haitham’s head snap towards the direction where the voice is coming from; you and Al Haitham’s eyes land on Kaveh standing where the elevator is, his arms over his chest with a prominent scowl on his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at the flustered and disgusted blond man.

Kaveh shudders and dramatically gags. “I’ve been here long enough to be traumatized by what I have just witnessed,” Kaveh says, his nose scrunching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. You and Al Haitham say anything after Kaveh’s response. You couldn’t help but notice the growing issue in Kaveh’s pants and the growing discomfort from the blond man. Maybe you and Al Haitham should have kept your voices down and have sex somewhere that isn’t public and where anyone could walk in at any moment.

Note: Yeah, idk how to feel about this smut. It has been a while, and I'm a bit rusty on writing smut. So, apologies if it's not as decent as my past smuts; I'm hoping to write smut very soon (Crave 5, pretty much) because it has been a few months since the fourth part of Crave with Ayato and Thoma. The mini-fics will be posted here and there when I get the chance to make and post them! Just a heads up, not all of them will contain smut. Unless you want me to make a smut series? 👀🤔 Anyway, I'm not entirely sure if I'll be tagging people in the mini-fics... If you guys want to be tagged, I can do that! ^^ I'll be making a new taglist form very soon since it's officially my winter break :> For my new and returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Genshin Impact x reader #Genshin impact imagine #Genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin impact smut #Al Haitham x reader #Al Haitham smut #Al Haitham imagine #Al Haitham fanfiction #Al Haitham fanfic #Al Haitham x afab!reader #Al Haitham x afab!reader smut #genshinluvr

[miokki]

✦ WHEN YOU STUMBLE ON THEM SLEEPING

✰ synopsis: sumeru boys and their sleepy antics

✰ pairing(s): alhaitham, cyno, kaveh and tighnari x gn!reader (all seperate)

✰ content warnings: just fluff

✰ note: i actually wrote this in feb around alhaitham’s birthday so im trying to get my scraps out. also fyi i read @/mrpenguinpants’s green slumber recently is similar.

❈ ALHAITHAM

you had just gone over the summary for your newest assignment with alhaitham, who was dear enough to sit down in the house of daena and go over it with you. the assignment itself wasn’t particularly challenging, yet it didn't align with your interest in study. that was the main reason you asked your boyfriend to assist in your studies. yet from when you'd started your explanation to the time it took you to lift your head from the pages in your lap, you found your boyfriend slumped in his chair, as soft snores left his mouth.

you’re pretty confident in thinking that your voice wasn’t that boring, well, at least not to the greatness of making the acting grand sage alhaitham fall asleep. it was either that or the shiny new title had taken its toll on alhaitham much harder than you had anticipated. but being sure of alhaitham’s abilities, you'd doubt that your boyfriend wouldn’t let something like that beat him so easily. however, rather than dwelling on it, you put the pile of papers back down onto the table you were sitting on before settling back onto the table.

with alhaitham, defenceless under your regard, you decide to use every moment to further soak his features into your brain. his arms laying on both armrests as his head leaned off to the left. shamelessly watching from above as he bathed in the afternoon sunlight, which only seemed to enhance his glowing complexion. even after the longest time, you are still awestruck at how gorgeous and lovely he is. however, you were only able to truly appreciate this after he let go of his tight guard.

but still, there isn’t a single day you don’t remind yourself of it, not that you have to. it feels like you can’t pull your eyes away, stuck in a trance with him as your man focal point. that was, until you realise you've blown your horribly disguised cover for how sickeningly infatuated you are with him. alhaitham, now staring at you with both a surprised and an embarrassed expression on his face, his ears starting to redden before his eyes close again.

pulling yourself out of your daze, you slowly bring your hand to his cheek, softly caressing it. his skin soft as you feel your lover lean into your touch. dragging your thumb across his face as you watch his eyelashes fluttering, his eyes still shut. you notice a small smile sprawled across his lips, the upwards tug on alhaitham’s lips becoming apparent.

“i know you’re awake, pretty boy,” you tease, using your fingertips to gently move his hair covering his eyes.

alhaitham chuckles as he opens his eyes, crimson red and green, gazing into you. you look at him as he places his hand on top of yours, caging your hand on his face. the action feeling both needy and almost desperate. your boyfriend laughing inwardly before looking you in the eyes.

“let me indulge for a bit longer, just this once, habibti.”

❈ CYNO

the title ‘general mahamatra’ is a hefty title to uphold, many become overwhelmed by the responsibility, therefore, avoiding the title as a goal. yet cyno maintains it, and he does it well. so much so that it occasionally stresses you that your boyfriend doesn’t rest enough and might become overworked. albeit, a habit to visit him while he's working just to make sure he's okay. so when you come across him fast asleep in his office, you can’t help but sigh in relief, glad he’s resting up for once. sumeru’s general mahamatra deserves to slack off every once and a while, no? this is deeming that he does a vast majority of sumeru’s upkeeping.

quickly and quietly, you slip through the small gap between the wall and the door, the door slightly squeaking as it brushes against your chest before you get through. you sigh once you're inside and swiftly shut the door to cyno's office. observing your, your view the few nicely potted plants and the tall bookshelves in the back with hundreds of untouched books. and the centrepiece to complete; cyno’s desk, with him, slouched in his chair, arms crossed and his hat still on.

you don’t understand why the akademiya even bothered giving him an office. cyno is supposed outside for almost all of the day, the exception being when he comes back to report things that have happened throughout his duties. he enjoys being outdoors and in action. him, being inside the office defeats the purpose of being a matra. although it is a good place to cool down when the time is presented.

speaking of which, you’re feeling a bit brave today, enough so that you’ve chosen to approach the unconscious general. your body shifting around objects until you're behind his desk, standing beside his figure. keeping a close eye on him in case of any sign of consciousness.

unsurprisingly and one would debate, fortunately(me), you got distracted, your boyfriend being the distractant. spacing out, your only focus was cyno’s sleeping figure whose body moved up and down as he breathed. his lightly tanned skin putting you in a trance, remembering how you reminded him to moisturise for the thousandth time. and his sweet, sweet-toned abs that others swoon over while you are fortuitous enough to rest your head on every night whenever you two are home together relaxing.

it was only after a good five minutes of just marvelling at his abs do you decide to do the next big thing. take off his hat. the hat which was ever so kindly shadowing his facial features. slowly reaching out with your hand, grasping the thing in your hand before gently lifting off your boyfriend's hat.

“boo.”

cyno blatantly said, his monotone voice echoing off the patterned walls as well as your scream. his hat was surprisingly nowhere to be seen as it bounced onto the ground.

“archons, i think i died for a second. baby, that wasn’t funny,” you exclaimed.

“it was pretty funny,” he smiled, biting back a laugh.

“was not,” you mumbled, his arms welcoming you as you fell into his touch.

❈ KAVEH

you were just returning from work, the sun already setting as you arrived at your doorstep. today had been particularly tiring. while there was no problem at hand, your energy levels seemed unusually low. the only thing motivating you to finish well was your desire to go home, have a nice dinner and snuggle in bed with your boyfriend, kaveh, who often stays the night even if he didn’t get locked out of his shared home. even so, you found the man knocking at your door almost every two days, his keys suspiciously disappearing every time.

as this occurrence became a near routine, you decided to give kaveh the spare set of keys to your place. hoping that he would let himself in when you would work late and generally when you weren't available. although, when you first proposed the idea he was far from with it, saying he'll lose the keys like he does his own. it’s only when you dropped it in his hand, closed it up and held it promising to him that you wanted him to have it did he hesitantly agree.

and it's true, you do trust him, you've trusted him more than you ever have with someone. you trust him with the key to your home, not only because you love him but because your boyfriend has a kind heart. the kindest you've come to know and you couldn't dream of kaveh doing something to break your faith in him. besides, the interior of your home has never looked better, and it still feels like home despite the altercations.(fr)

speaking of which, you let out a loud sigh as you shut the front door behind you. kicking off your shoes as you announce your presence. however, you get no response. placing your things down, yelling out your lover's name this time, quietly listening for any signs of kaveh being here. but again nothing, making you think that you've been talking to the house the entire time instead of a person.

still not convinced, you search through all the rooms of your house until you catch a glimpse of blonde hair through the gap between the bedroom door. your eyes lighting up as you quickly walk closer, pushing the door open and walking in to see him sleeping sprawled out on top of the bedsheets. his back facing you as soft breathing filled your ears.

you've come to feel relieved whenever you see kaveh, his presence alone is enough to make your body relax naturally. your body unconsciously moves closer to him when he's nearby. you sigh as you sit beside his figure, the mattress sinking under your weight and the sheets rustling as your hands explore, eventually reaching his exposed back.

since the start of the relationship, you've gained a habit of running your hands across kaveh's skin, tracing shapes and letters into it. constantly drawing random words and shapes into any body part of his you had access to, obviously, if he let you. occasionally peppering kissing on the area as you doodle to your heart's content. as for this instance, your eye caught sight of his open back seeing as the perfect opportunity to trace the shoulder blade and draw little basic shapes.

kaveh secretly loves it. he loves that you make him feel special with your undivided attention solely on him, a smile appearing on his lips as he's under your gaze. he loves the drag of your fingertips against his skin, the warm touch calming him down. kaveh loves you as you draw stars into his sensitive skin, unbeknownst to the fact that he's awake as you whispering "i love you"s under your breath, loving that you secretly pine over him too.

❈ TIGHNARI

tighnari had been particularly worried about a certain deadline he had to meet. while he often does lectures at the akademiya, this specific class he’s been taking lectures for, hasn't been absorbing the lecture’s content as well as anticipated. therefore, his need to edit the coursework in a way the amurta students would both understand and fascinate them.

although, you wouldn't imagine your boyfriend being so concerned. perhaps it's due to the lack of idea of how to teach or that the new mightn't work either, yet he can’t seem to let it rest. sure it is normal for professors to worry a healthy amount about their students’ studies yet he almost seems obsessed with it. it's the only thing that has come out of his mouth all week.

as in you two are doing reports of the forests in pending health, and he avoids talking about anything but the upcoming lecture. oh? you’re trying to fill out some unfinished paperwork, tighnari is talking his head off about the plans he has. even when you finally think that you'll be free of his chatterings he still manages to mention it when the two of you are laying in bed.

while you do enjoy listening to your boyfriend’s most obscure ramblings you'd very rarely hold him against it's becoming more than something he's interested in. observing it now, it's now borderline obsessive. so much so that you've decided to put some distance between the two of you for now, opting to take another forest ranger’s patrol of the forest. this was in hopes that it would help you clear your mind and start a new leaf before speaking to your lover again.

taking a deep, much-needed breath, largely filling your lungs, letting your cheeks puff up before exhaling slowly. you shake your hands at your sides which seemed to be a nervous habit, and then push aside the leafy doors, calling out his name to announce your presence. However, to your surprise, you soon find him sound asleep, using a stack of papers as a pillow.

you gazed at him as his dark, silky locks of hair shined in the sun, his unreasonably, pale porcelain skin giving him a natural glow. the sight stopping you in your tracks for a few minutes just to admire his utterly cute face. yet the position tighnari was sitting in and the way your boyfriend was leaning over the desk seemed far from beneficial to both his posture and neck.

“nari, my love.” you hummed as you walked to his side.

you could only watch as your lover’s fluffy ears twitched in your direction due to the sweetness in your tone. yet you only hear a grumble and some squirming in his seat from the man.

“come on, hun.” you whisper as your left hand travels to his shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth into his skin.

tighnari lifts his head this time, his eyes barely open, hair sticking to his face and forehead only to see you looking with your gentle gaze he can never say no to.

“what time is it?” the man asks, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

your partner’s ears perk up when you giggle, smiling as he listens to your angelic voice, the sound always hitting his ears in the best way imaginable. his eyes lighting up and sparkling as soon as sees you smile.

“its afternoon now.” you reply, feeling him nuzzle into your touch when you run your free hand through his hair.

“why did you leave me for so long?”

“oh you know why.”

do not copy or repost any of my works.

@miokki 2023

#genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #alhaitham #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham fanfic #cyno #cyno x reader #cyno scenarios #cyno fluff #cyno fanfic #kaveh x reader #kaveh #kaveh scenarios #kaveh fluff #kaveh fanfiction #tighnari #tighnari fluff #tighnari x reader #tighnari scenarios #tighnari fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #miokki scenarios ༊*·˚ #miokki #alhaitham x reader

[vulpisnocturna]

Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter II - Captivity

Chapter I

Read on AO3

Warnings: captivity, coercion, violence (not against reader), psychological manipulation, Yandere Chrollo

Word count: 6k

Your mouth felt pasty and dry, and your temples were throbbing, head spinning and arms and legs weak, as though numbed by keeping them in one position too long. You didn’t remember going to sleep the night before.

Shit, had you forgotten to set an alarm? Were you late for work?

You opened your eyes, blinking in the dim sunlight. Sunlight...?

Fuck. If there was sunlight, it meant you were definitely late. You stood up, still groggy from sleep, your head spinning, but when you went to pull the duvet up, the bed in front of you looked different. Nothing like yours. You looked around: it was a large bedroom, with a stone fireplace and a rust-coloured loveseat in front of it, a walk-in closet with the sliding door left ajar, a large bay window covered by sage green curtains-

You did a double take. Sitting on an armchair next to the window, a book on his lap, sat a man staring at you.

No, not any man. Chrollo.

You stumbled back, shards of the night before rising to the surface of your mind. He had- broken in, and drugged you, and God, where were you? What had he done to you? You took a step back, your heartbeat deafening in your ears, fingertips trembling, gut-twisting panic taking a hold of you as you looked around, glancing at the door.

You had to get out, had to leave, had to escape-

‘Calm down, darling’ came his unruffled, soft voice, and you stared at him, continuing to walk backwards, keeping your eyes on him. Anything- Anything to hit him with-

‘W-where am I? What did you do to me?’ you stammered, voice shaking as you glanced around you. Lamp. You could hit him with the lamp. Or maybe the vase on the dresser?

‘This is our apartment for the time being, my love’ he said, calmly closing the book he was holding and setting it down on the coffee table next to him, ‘you will notice you are wearing the clothes you were wearing yesterday night, all except your shoes. I did not undress you, nor did I act in any untoward way. Now, please, take a seat’

Darling? My love? Our?

You shuddered. He was completely insane. He had kidnapped you. Kidnapped you and locked you God knew where.

Your chest felt tight, and air was not reaching your lungs. Your legs were weak, and you couldn’t help but flinch when he stood up, calmly walking towards you. He had a weird cross tattoo on his forehead, which you assumed had been covered by the cloth when you had met him. Was he a Satanist?

Your brain was swarmed with visions of him using you for some kind of twisted ritual, strapping you an altar and using a butcher’s knife to carve you open in some gory sacrifice.

‘Stay right there! Don’t take another step!’ you yelled, voice deranged with terror, and Chrollo tilted his head at you as you picked up the cylindrical glass vase and held it like a bat.

‘I understand you must have your misgivings about me, darling-‘ he started, but you didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, any of his perverse pet names and delusions.

‘Shut the fuck up! Not another word’ you shouted, retreating towards the door. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his eyes darkened, his fingers flexing at his side as he took another few steps towards you.

You bolted to the door, slamming it behind you and running down the corridor, catching sight of what you thought might be the front door next to the living room. You couldn’t hear his footsteps, and you didn’t turn around, pulling on the doorknob. Locked. The keys. Keys. There, in the bowl on the accent table next to you. You grabbed them, fingers shaking as you tried one of the two and frantically turned it, pulling on the handle again. It didn’t open. You tried the other one. Nothing.

You turned around, screaming when you found him staring at you a few feet away. You threw the vase at him, and his hand moved so quickly you barely even saw it, shattering the vase mid-air, making the glass rain next to him. You screamed, flattening yourself against the door, eyes wide and sawed breaths tearing through you.

Glass crunched under his boots, and you went to punch him when he got too close, but he was much faster. Before you knew it, he had picked you up and flung you over his shoulder. You hit his back and flailed around, uncaring if he dropped you, but it was like hitting a wall.

‘If you are set on continuing with this futile behaviour, I will have to restrain you, dearest’ he said calmly, coldly, as he carried you to the bedroom again. You screamed your lungs out, yelping when he tossed you on the bed and climbed over you. You swung blindly, thrashing around, throwing yourself away from him. He dragged you back by your leg, catching your arms and pinning them down above your head with one hand, his other one pinning your leg with such strength that you could not move a muscle. He put his leg over your other one, effectively cutting out all movement.

‘Are you finished?’ he asked, and you started screaming, calling for help, and you saw his lips tighten as he grabbed something from his pocket. His forehead cloth. He stuffed it in your mouth, leaning over to open the drawer of the nightstand. Rope. It was rope. You let out muffled grunts, writhing underneath him, but he tied your wrists to the headboard anyway. He pinned your legs down, taking another rope and tying your ankles to the foot of the bed.

Chrollo let out a sigh, impassively staring at you before he got up and lifted the armchair, setting it down next to the bed and sitting on it.

‘This would not have been necessary if you behaved. I advised you this would be the case, but I can see you want to be a brat. Very well then. One way or another, you will listen to me’ he said, and you stared at him with a mixture of hatred and terror, which he did not seem perturbed by.

‘My full name is Chrollo Lucilfer’ he said, looking at you, resting his elbows on his knees. You stared back, though your eyes were much harsher than his.

Chrollo Lucilfer. Assuming it was his family name was ludicrous. You wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did not even have parents and had just spawned from Satan himself.

‘I am not looking to kill or harm you in any way. In fact, it is quite the opposite. You see, I have nothing but the deepest devotion for you. I first caught a glimpse of you at that library you always used to visit on Saturdays a month ago, and came to realise you were the most captivating woman I had ever met. Your life was truly heart-rending, my love. Stuck in a miserable job undeserving of your talents and intellect, living in a dingy, unsafe neighbourhood, with mindless, mediocre acquaintances and no one to care for you or protect you... I had to intervene. You see, you are so oblivious, darling. This world is a very dangerous one for someone like you; you cannot hope to defend yourself. I had to take you with me, so that I could protect you. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to you’ he said, his voice sickeningly soft, his big grey eyes making a mockery of fondness.

Something had happened to you. He had happened to you. And what were you going to do? What was there to do? He seemed... too strong. Maybe he wasn’t human, and he actually was Lucifer himself.

‘Now, I understand you may think me unfair for taking you from your life, but let me reassure you: your life with me will far exceed the quality of your previous one. Anything you want- except, of course, to run from me or see past acquaintances, I will give you. Whether it be food, books, paintings, jewellery... ask, and providing it will be my pleasure. You won’t have to live month to month, money will never be an issue for you ever again. Of course, I will also offer you any and all kind of affection and companionship your heart desires. I will take interest in your interests, and it would please me immensely if you did the same with mine. I can appreciate that this is a sudden change and we skipped some steps in our relationship, therefore, I will not force myself on you- unless, of course, you want me to. I can be patient, darling, because when we finally make love, I want it to be unforgettable’ he said, his voice slightly breathy as he uttered the last sentences.

You squirmed, biting hard around the cloth that smelled just like him, hoping your eyes would do the talking for you. Insane. He was crazy if he thought you would ever want him- anywhere near you. You would find a way out. If he thought he could make you into his meek little prisoner, he was sorely mistaken.

‘Do not glare at me like that, my love. It only makes you look more ravishing. Especially in such a compromising position- relax; I will not attempt to take you now. You are far too shaken as of now. Alas, there are also some rules to this new life, because I cannot trust you yet. First of all, do not attempt to run from me. I will find you, and when I do, the results will not be pretty. I will not physically harm you, but your acquaintances... well, I do not have any issues with paying them a visit. Secondly, I will be sleeping in this bed, and so will you. It’s an obvious step in our relationship, and I want to be able to hold you at night. My third rule is that were you to ask anyone for help, they would have to be disposed of. I would not be pleased’ he sighed, and you gulped, looking at him. Was he... a murderer? Would he kill your friends, your family?

‘My occupation will require us to move often, but I will make it as comfortable as possible for you. You don’t have to do anything. And I want to reiterate that I don’t expect you to be my maid. You are my woman, and you don’t have to clean or cook unless you feel like you want to. Of course, I would love it if you cooked a meal for us, but I can care after myself and you. Oh, and one last thing. I think it is quite clear now, but do not attempt to attack me. You won’t be able to injure me, and you will end up in this unfortunate position again. The time I will leave you like this will depend on how displeased I am with your attempt’ he said, running a hand through his hair and getting up.

Your eyes followed him, and you tried to process the delusional rant he’d gone on, but you struggled to think anyone could be so fucked up. He was... obsessed with you? Wanted you to be his girlfriend?

‘Now. It’s been more than twenty-two hours since I visited you at your house. You need to eat. I’m going to make you something quickly’ he said, walking out of the room, leaving you gagged and tied up on the bed.

Crazy. He was completely crazy. What if you had to go to the bathroom? And did he really think you were going to eat anything he gave you?

You were actually surprised to see him come back only ten minutes later holding a plate with a ham and cheese toastie. You eyed it suspiciously as he sat on the armchair and placed it on the nightstand, undoing the bindings on your hands. He removed your gag, and you coughed, wiping your lips and glowering at him.

‘Don’t do anything foolish, darling’ he said, taking the plate and putting it on your lap, staring at you intently as you gingerly took one half in your hands. You glanced at him. Like hell you trusted that.

You put it down, slamming it on the nightstand even though you were starving, not having eaten since lunch on Sunday.

‘It’s a normal sandwich. Eat it’ he said, smiling passively at you. A fake smile. You bristled.

‘Fuck you’ you hissed, but his smile did not waver.

‘Alright. You are suspicious of me, that is fair enough. Mhm. Wait here, darling’ he said, getting up and leaving the room once more.

Yeah, as if.

You went to undo the rope binding your feet, but found that from the neck down, you were completely paralysed. Nothing you did made you move. What had he done? You hadn’t eaten nor drank anything he’d given you. You could move just fine a second ago.

You were starting to panic when he came back and your body started working again, though you still felt weird.

He sat down, holding a knife and a pomegranate. Your brow furrowed, and you stared at him as he placed a bowl on his thigh and started cutting the pomegranate into sections.

‘If you cannot trust me to prepare a meal for you, at least have some fruit. Here, I am showing you the entire process. The knife doesn’t touch the fruit, it cuts into the surface of it. You can eat it with your hands, so you can be sure that you wouldn’t run into any issues. Is that enough for you?’ he asked, cutting the pomegranate into quarters like it was made of butter and splitting it apart with his hands, tapping the knife on the back to make the seeds fall into the bowl. You watched the whole process like a hawk, and he did not put anything on the seeds, nor did he touch them with his knife.

That should mean it was safe, right?

He discarded the shell of the pomegranate on the plate where the sandwich lay untouched, handing you the bowl. You stared at it, and then back at him, but he had already pulled out a book and opened it, flicking through the pages.

You narrowed your eyes, taking up a few seeds and eating them. They tasted so sweet. You wouldn’t tell him that, but pomegranates were one of your favourite fruits. It was one of those things where you liked them a lot, and yet, the hassle of peeling them always persuaded you not to have them.

‘Let me tell you a story, darling. It’s about Nen; I imagine you are not familiar with the term. Every human being possesses aura, but only a few of them can actually use it. I won’t make it complicated, but when aura is released and utilised, it can enhance physical attributes such as strength, speed, endurance, resistance and so on. When one masters Nen, they can develop abilities. There’s all kinds of fascinating abilities, but one must stay within the grounds of one’s own Nen category. Those are Enhancement, Transmutation, Conjuration, Emission, Manipulation and Specialisation. All of those grant different powers, such as Enhancers being able, for example, to make their blows much stronger and Conjurers being able to use objects they craft in their own mind. All of those, except for Specialists’ he said, going on a long-winded explanation that you wanted to not care about, but it was so odd and outlandish that you just had to listen.

Was he talking about superpowers? And that was real? Though it would explain the inhuman speed and strength he had...

You were almost finished with the pomegranate, and you were ashamed to say you wanted more, even though you would not ask.

‘I am a Specialist. That means I do not fit into any of the other categories, and my power is simply not clear-cut. Specialists have wildly diverging abilities, and mine is called Bandit’s Secret. Can you see this book I’m holding?’ he said, holding up the weird handprint book he had in his hands. Now that you thought about it, there was a sort of light around his hand, like a hazy shroud covering it.

‘You can, can’t you? That’s because I just forced you to release your aura, darling. When I went to get that pomegranate, I used one of my Nen abilities to paralyse your body. That triggered the release of your Nen. With Bandit’s Secret, I can steal other people’s Nen abilities and make them mine’ he said, flicking through the book. You stared at him, nonplussed.

So he had asshole superpowers. What a shock.

You couldn’t see what he could possibly mean to achieve by releasing your aura or whatever. You finished your pomegranate and put the bowl down on the nightstand.

‘’I happen to have an ability called Apple of the Gods. I stole it just for you, my dear. Are you familiar with the myth of Hades and Persephone? Legend goes that Hades happened to fall in love with Persephone, Demeter’s daughter and the goddess of spring, and he abducted her, taking her to the Underworld with him. There, Persephone happened to eat one of the pomegranates that grew there, and was thus trapped in Hades’ kingdom because she had eaten the food of the Underworld. She was subsequently allowed to spend six months with her mother, which is when spring and summer would return to the world of the living, and though she had been taken by Hades, with time, she came to love him and find joy in his companionship’ he said, smiling softly at you with those eerie grey eyes. Your terrified gaze lowered to your red stained fingers, to the shell of the pomegranate you had just eaten.

No, he was just being delusional. This was another tale of obsession to justify his actions to himself. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible.

‘This ability allows me to form a bond with any individual who willingly eats food I have offered them. With this bond, I can instantly tell where they are, at all times. So long as the target eats the food, and I reveal to them the workings of my ability, the bond will snap in place. Truly, darling, you are my Persephone. We cannot be separated’ he said, giving you that placid smile that made your head spin.

No, no, no.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t- you would just throw up. Yes, you would vomit it. You jammed two fingers in your throat, pushing.

‘Oh, no you don’t’ you heard, and you were pinned down to the bed again, your hand pried from your mouth and slammed against the mattress. You yelped in pain, and the grip eased ever so slightly, still way too steely for you to even move.

‘Darling, darling... you are such a brat’ he crooned, dipping his head to press his lips on your cheek. You let out a strangled scream, turning your head, squirming underneath him as he kissed your jaw.

‘There. I’ll have to tie you up again, sweetheart. Just for a few hours, hm? And if you keep screaming, I’ll have to make you sleep again. You don’t want that, do you?’ he said softly, tying your wrists to the headboard again and lifting his head. Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a strangled sob as teardrops trickled down your temples, dampening your hair.

‘Shh, shh, my love. It pains me to have to do this too, but with the way you’re behaving, how can I expect you to stay by my side? You’ll see it’s all worth it soon. I’ll make you so happy’ he shushed you, his thumb wiping your temples, his soft lips pressing again on your cheek, on your forehead.

Two days earlier, you would’ve felt butterflies in your stomach if he did that. Now, all you felt was revulsion, fear and hatred.

He gracefully got up, smiling down at you.

‘I have business to attend to. Be a good girl and wait for me to come back. If you don’t try to get out of those knots, I will untie you when I return’ he said, walking over to the wardrobe and getting another cloth, this time a white one, and wrapping it around his forehead.

He walked away, closing the bedroom door behind him and leaving you to let out your anguish.

Chrollo let out a soft sigh, smiling to himself as he parked the car in front of the house he had visited a mere week earlier. It had taken him an hour and a half to drive there, which meant it was almost midnight now. You didn’t need to know what he was doing. But he had held on to his resentment for long enough, and it need be dealt with.

A dull, mediocre detached house in a suburban neighbourhood equally average greeted him. He made quick work of picking the lock, slipping inside and smiling slightly as he eyed the landing in front of the door. Ahh. How should he do it? Quickly, as to not waste time and go back to his darling straightaway? Or slowly and painfully, as punishment for coveting you?

He walked up the stairs, following the sound of quiet snoring to a small, messy bedroom that smelled stuffy. He grabbed the man’s arm, throwing him into the corridor, where he landed against the wall, the sound of crunching like a symphony to his ears.

Too much strength, Chrollo thought, astounded by how weak civilians were. If he didn’t control his strength, he would die straightaway. After all, judging by his wailing and writhing, he must have broken a few vertebrae.

‘Stop screaming or I will take your tongue’ he said calmly, and the man looked at him, convulsing on the floor, sweat beading his reddened face. He was pleased to see he was cognisant and his legs were in a cast, and even more to see him tremble. He conjured his book, flicking through the pages. Indoor Fish, perhaps? No, not enough pain. Maybe he should have called Feitan.

‘Who... are you?’ the man gurgled, and Chrollo turned to him, still flicking through his book in search of the perfect ability.

‘A week ago, you had lunch with a woman and revealed to her you had wanted her for yourself in the past. You and I both know you still desire her. How could you not? She is truly delightful. However, that woman happens to belong to me. I saw the messages you sent her after that. Telling her you couldn’t help but wish you’d told her sooner. And just this morning, you wrote to her that you missed her, and asked her to go on a date with you. That is unacceptable. Thinking of you coveting her, imagining touching her with your filthy hands... it truly is unbearable. Therefore, I’m afraid I will have to kill you’ he said, going back to his Indoor Fish. After all, it was perfect to truly punish his mind for its filthy thoughts.

‘You’re insane! What- what have you done with her?’ the man stammered, and Chrollo sighed, his fish appearing around him.

‘That is none of your concern. All you need to know is that I can offer her what her heart desires. You, with your weakness and meagre intellect, your lack of insight into her and paltry excuse of affection... you could never be enough for her. I can protect her, cherish her, give her anything. And she is already mine’ he said, and watched as his fish ate part of his hand with impassive interest.

‘What’s happening?’ he screeched, looking at his hand, and Chrollo glanced at him, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly.

‘Oh, my apologies. You cannot see Nen. There are two fish swarming you now. They are carnivorous creatures who enjoy the taste of human flesh. Whilst they feast on your body, you will not bleed nor will you feel any pain. Though your sanity may not survive the experience, your body will, until they disappear’ he explained, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, ‘see? Right about now, I believe one of them is about to take a bite of your calf. Fascinating, is it not?’

‘Please, let me live... I won’t think about her anymore- I won’t, you can have her!’ he started to cry, crawling on the ground. Chrollo lifted his chin, looking down at the maggot in front of him. How you could stand being around such a pitiful creature was beyond him. Perhaps, you had never had better. But you and Chrollo were perfect pieces of a puzzle, completing each other. You had made his heart beat again, given him long-forgotten emotions and breathed life into his soul. Now, he must also devote himself to you and repay the debt whilst keeping you with him. He knew you would help him find himself.

‘So this is the extent of your devotion to her. Pathetic. Is this what you call love?’ he asked, turning him on his stomach with his foot. One of the fish devoured his legs, and he looked at him, sobbing.

‘I don’t- love her... please, spare me... why can’t I feel anything? Where are... my legs?’ he asked dumbly. Chrollo clucked his tongue, already growing bored. He missed you. Perhaps he should cut this short.

‘Are you not listening to me, Hans? I think I have explained in detail what’s happening to you. Tell me, if I told you that the price for your life would be my beloved’s, the woman you claimed to love, would you allow me to kill her for you to live?’ he asked, turning the light on in the bedroom and going over to the nightstand, where a photo of you and Hans smiling was the centrepiece. Chrollo took it out of the frame, ripping Hans out of it and smiling at your smiling face.  One day, he knew you’d smile like that for him.

‘Yes! Yes, anything! Kill her, let me live- I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die’ sobbed Hans, and Chrollo sneered, mildly disgusted. He had seen humans curse their own kin under torture, but to think that it would take so little, and without any pain as well...

How could you have ever enjoyed his company? When he had no loyalty whatsoever? He took his phone out, texting Feitan. He should be close by, as he had asked him to be that morning.

‘How distasteful. Truly, Hans, you are making me feel glad I took her from people such as you. Apologies, I am just going to answer a quick call’ he said, answering the phone call.

‘What’s the job, Danchō?’ Feitan’s voice rang in his ear, and Chrollo smiled, twirling the picture of you in his fingers.

‘Hello, Feitan. I have a present for you. How long do you think you can keep someone alive after they have lost their legs and a hand? Oh, and their tongue, though I cauterised that one’ he asked, changing his power to his fire conjuring ability, carefully heating up his Ben’s Knife just as the fish disappeared and Hans started screaming and convulsing, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. Chrollo pried his jaw open, cutting his tongue with the hot knife and cleaning the blood on his shirt before he ripped the sheets into bandages.  

‘If you stop the bleeding, they can last a few hours’ said Feitan on the line, and Chrollo tied the tourniquet around Hans’ thighs and wrist, gagging him for good measure. He’d heard enough out of him anyway.

‘Alright. I’ll send you the address. Be quick’ he said, ending the call and stepping over the puddle of blood on the linoleum to walk into the bathroom and wash his hands.

‘Don’t worry, Hans. My friend should be here in a few minutes. In the meantime, try to stay alive, won’t you?’ he said, closing Bandit’s Secret and letting it disappear.

‘Personally, I am particularly fond of her smile. That she would smile at you, laugh at any tawdry joke that you may come up with... it is quite irritating. I’m sure you don’t understand. Your love for her is a mere façade, is it not? Does it make you feel better about yourself to associate with someone far superior than you are? Though even she must have found you lacking. I’m now quite certain it was only her kindness that allowed her to nurture a friendship with you’ he mused, thinking you must truly be cantankerous by now. Poor girl, he’d left you tied up for hours now. He would be home soon, though. He could not wait to fall asleep next to you.

It took Feitan only ten minutes to arrive, and when he did, Chrollo called to him to come upstairs, where he lifted an eyebrow, looking down at Hans.

‘Who is he?’ he asked, and Chrollo smiled at him, straightening up and starting to descend the stairs.

‘Someone who was in my way. Do what you want with him. Text me when he dies. That’s all’ he said, closing the front door behind him and getting in his car.

When he got home, he was pleased to see you had made no attempts to free yourself, and your eyes were overflowing with rage and only a hint of fear when he walked in, though they were raw and puffy. Ahh, you were filled with so much more fire than your friend was. He was truly undeserving of you.

‘Let me undo these, darling. You must be so sore’ he said, undoing the bindings and cradling you in his arms, kissing the top of your hair, inhaling the sweet, floral scent of it as you thrashed in his hold.

‘There. You’ll behave now, won’t you? Let me make you some food. You must be starving. Please, feel free to use the bathroom whilst I’m in the kitchen. But don’t try to lock yourself in there to hide from me. If you do, I’ll have to take away the lock’ he said, smiling at you. You pressed your pretty lips together, saying nothing as you pushed him away and walked over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Chrollo sighed, getting up and walking over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cutting up some vegetables. He was happy to hear the bathroom door open a mere ten minutes after he left you in the bedroom, and you appeared in front of him not long after.

‘Hello, darling. I am making stir fry noodles, I know you like that. Don’t worry, I have no reason to poison them. I’ll even eat some from your plate to prove it. And as far as it concerns the pomegranate earlier, it’s been digested already, so throwing up is useless, and so is refusing this food. If you do refuse it, I will have no choice but to force feed you. Your choice’ he said, watching you seethe with a placid smile. Now that he had taken care of your pathetic friend and was back with you, he was feeling much better.

‘I hate you’ you said hoarsely, and Chrollo pushed the vegetables in the pan, washing the knife and putting it back in the drawer that he locked with Nen.

‘For now’ he replied smoothly, starting to heat up the vegetables and grabbing a packet of egg noodles from the fridge.

‘I’ll always hate you’ you continued, balling up your small, delicate hands into fists as you stood in front of the breakfast bar. Chrollo gave you a sly smirk.

‘We’ll see, dearest’ he said simply, grabbing chopsticks and plates and setting them at the table. He poured you a glass of water from the tap, putting it on the table.

‘Please, sit. It will be ready in a few minutes’ he said, watching as you swallowed and eyed the water greedily, deciding to choose your battles wisely and sit down, avidly gulping down the tall glass of water he had poured you.

Chrollo smiled, filling up a jug with more water and setting it in front of you. You drank again, and he went back to put the noodles in the pan, grabbing some chopsticks and stirring them.

When it was ready, he put a generous amount in your plate, and the rest in his, setting down the pan and sitting down.

‘So, what will it be, darling?’ he asked, watching with great interest as your shoulders hunched and quivered just before you glowered at him.

‘Stop calling me that. I’m not your darling, or any of the sick pet names you’re throwing at me’ you snarled, and Chrollo tilted his head, starting to eat.

‘Well, actually, you are my darling. You are the dearest person to me, my beloved, and my love. Therefore, whether you agree with my usage of them or not, they are true, accurate representations of my feelings. Besides, watching your reaction to them is quite endearing. Your anger is quite sweet, darling’ he drawled, relishing in teasing you, seeing that cute expression on your face when your eyebrows lowered and your mouth twisted into an angry pout.

Getting a reaction out of you was all he wanted, whatever it was. He was a patient man, he could wait for your smiles and soft eyes. For now, he was amused by how much they burnt with rage. It was fascinating to see someone so emotional, so affected by anything he might say or do.

‘Will you eat, or will I have to make you?’ he pressed after a few seconds, and he thought you might break the chopsticks from the tight hold you had on them, but you did start to eat. Satisfied, Chrollo went back to his meal.

‘I’m going to get you some clothes and books tomorrow. For now, you can wear one of the outfits I got from your house. Unless, of course, you don’t want to. I’m not opposed to you wearing nothing. Quite the opposite, actually’ he continued, riling you up, watching you take the bait so, so easily.

‘Fuck you’ you snarled again. It was impressive how quickly you had discarded your fear of him in favour of boldness. It was thrilling to have someone outside of the Spider who wasn’t afraid of him.

‘If you insist, darling’ he taunted with a smirk, letting out a soft laugh at your sneer.

Despite your misgivings, you finished all your food, and Chrollo got up, putting the plates in the dishwasher and going over to you. You immediately got up, putting the table between your bodies.

‘I have left toiletries for you in the bathroom. Let me get you a change of clothes, my love’ he said, walking over to the bedroom and stepping into the closet, retrieving a clean change of clothes from the things he’d taken from your house. Sadly, he had only found one set of pyjamas he liked: it was a black T-shirt and matching black shorts, which would no doubt make your legs look amazing. He could hardly wait.

He handed them to you as you stood near the bedroom door, possibly wanting to avoid losing sight of him. How sweet, he thought.

‘I’m not wearing that’ you hissed, grimacing at the shorts he’d handed you.

‘You prefer just wearing the shirt? Let me take these back, then’ he said, taking the shorts from you, but your eyes widened and you pulled on them, snatching them from his hand, making him chuckle.

‘Just as I thought. Don’t worry, I won’t walk in the bathroom as you change. Your privacy in there is yours, so long as you do not decide to hide there’ he said, and you chewed on your bottom lip, cautiously closing the bathroom door behind you.

He took the opportunity to change and brush his teeth in the main bathroom, going back to the bedroom to see you standing in front of the window. He sighed, his eyes raking down your lovely figure, taking in the length of your legs and thighs. He wanted to run his hands on your soft skin, kiss them, grip them until you whimpered...

Chrollo closed the bedroom door with Nen once again, not wanting you to avoid him any longer. He’d missed you, wanted you for too long to lose any more precious moments. He walked over to you, catching you when you tried dodging him and stepping away.

‘Darling, it’s time for bed now. Remember, I said we’d sleep together. You don’t have to worry, I won’t touch you inappropriately’ he said, lifting you up when you started to try to wrench yourself from him and carrying you over to the bed. He flung the covers away, lying down with you, holding you to him. Your little punches and kicks felt like nothing against him, and he smiled, wrapping his arms around you more tightly, revelling in the warmth and feel of your body even as you yelled and cursed at him.

‘Darling, if you don’t stop yelling, I’ll kiss you’ he said, and you shut up immediately, making him chuckle. Though you continued hitting him.

Chrollo patiently waited until you were done with your futile attempt, and after about fifteen minutes, you were panting, your blows nothing more than taps now.

‘There. I hope it’s out of your system now’ he said, turning you to spoon you. You squirmed weakly, but it did not last long. Soon, exhaustion caught up with you, and you fell asleep.

Chrollo left your side to pull the blanket over the both of you, draping an arm around your waist and kissing your shoulder, stroking your hair gently.

‘Tomorrow will be easier for you, my love. And you will seek out my embrace in no time, I can assure you’ he said softly, closing his eyes and letting himself feel at peace with you. As it was meant to be.

Chapter III

#hunter x hunter #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh #hxh x reader

[luveline]

Omg steve idea!!! Shy and anxious reader and steve are in a relationship and he wants her to meet the kids!!! And it’s super sweet and he calms and assures her that they’ll love her

thank you for your request! :3

You lean against the side of Steve's car, thigh an inch from his thigh and knuckles brushing his as he searches for your hand. 

You tuck your hand behind your back and he makes a grumbling, upset sound, turning sideways to face you. His arm stretches over the roof of the car. 

"It's gonna be fine. I'm telling you, these brats will love you." 

You wrap your arms around your abdomen. You've had a stomach ache all day, worried beyond worry about meeting Steve's younger friends. 

Your boyfriend moves in a little closer, his front pressed into you. He smells comforting, a mix of sage and bergamot that makes you want to hide your nose in his neck and stay there forever.

"You've saved the town, like, ten times. And they all sound so cool. I have about as much personality now as I did when I was their age; none." 

Steve laughs brightly. "Baby, what are you talking about? They're not cool. They're a few nerds and two dorks held together by insecurity and teenaged, undying loyalty." 

"Steve," you chide gently, though you're laughing. Those poor kids. 

"I'm serious. And it's not all of them, anyways, the most intimidating ones live in California. Except for Max. She's the cool one." 

"Don't tell me that. Keep telling me they're a bunch of losers." 

"They're losers," he says agreeably. "And you have personality. Heaps of it. A mountain of personality." 

You huff, annoyed at yourself, closing your eyes so you don't have to look at his pretty face. He sighs and digs through the pockets of his denim jacket for a pack of gum, popping one in his mouth. He takes a second between his fingers and pushes it against your lips.��

"Open up." 

You make a sound of disagreement. 

"Open your mouth," he says, dragging all the syllables out. 

You do as he says and stick your tongue out. He puts the stick of gum in your mouth and you chew without looking at him, trying desperately to think of anything but this impending meeting – you get so wound up before things like this and Steve knows that, trying his best to keep everything settled nicely. The Juicy Fruit does distract you for a while, then the flavor runs out and you wanna spit it out. And cry. And maybe take some loud, shallow breaths.

Steve wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Come on. It's gonna be fine. I promise." 

"You don't know that. What if they hate me? I know I'm… taciturn." 

"Yeah, let's pretend I know what that means. If it's a synonym for, like, extremely amazing and nice, then sure. You're taciturn." 

You groan and drop the side of your head into his shoulder. He rubs the top of your arm and chews his gum obnoxiously. You don't hate it as much as you should. 

"It's gonna be fine," he murmurs. 

"I'm sorry. It's stupid." 

"Don't be sorry. I know I don't always get it, especially don't get why you care so much about my lunch club, but that doesn't mean it's stupid." 

"Your lunch club saved the world." 

"You're generous." 

You dig in his pocket for the gum wrapper to get rid of your sad, juiceless fruit. Steve is watching you with a pout on his lips. "What?" you ask. 

"Nothing," he says, tilting his head back, hand coming off your shoulder. He holds his hands up in a mock surrender. You miss his touch. "Nothing at all." 

You kick your feet into the road. "Harrington." 

"It's nothing, I just don't get why you don't see how amazing you are," he says, pretending to be confused. "But that's my issue, so." 

"Shut up," you murmur, cheeks flushed with heat. 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. You act like you're not watching him out of the corner of your eye, though you are, obsessed with his puppy dog eyes and his pert nose, his smiling grin. Worse, his arms where he's crossed them over his chest, one hand tucked up under his armpit and the other clutching his bicep. 

He checks his watch with raised eyebrows. "They should be here right now." 

You make your own conclusions. They ditched 'cos you sound like a loser. They saw you having your mini meltdown from afar and turned tail. They've died. 

"Do you think they're okay?" you ask. 

Steve nudges you with his elbow. "They're fine. See, over there," he points at a blip in the distance, a small group of teens making their way towards you. 

You feel as though you've been struck, standing up straight, hands pawing at your hair and your clothes. 

"Do I look okay?" you ask. 

Steve purses his lips and brings his hand up to your face, fingers incredibly gentle as he soothes your flyaways. Your eyes close as he scrapes his thumbnail under your eye, cleaning up your mascara like he has a handful of times before. 

"You look great," he says. You smile and go to face his approaching friends when he says, "Wait." 

"What?" you ask. 

He pecks your crown and then rubs the kiss away with his thumb. "Alright, now you're perfect." 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #steve harrington drabble