#thank you so much for giving me another opportunity to draw her

[tkoman3000]

izanami and antimarine for the color palette challenge :)

my beloved❤️🩵💙

#thank you so much for giving me another opportunity to draw her #tumblr is desaturating the colors sorry #hades izanami #izanami #blazblue #tkogaming

[bloodcasket]

“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

#bloodcasket #resident evil smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x you #jill x reader #jill valentine fanfiction #jill valentine x reader #jill fanfic #lesbian

[luveline]

jadey would you please mind giving us more of kbd!steve this season? xxxx

kbd dad!steve and mom!reader fight over christmas pyjamas, 1.4k

“I don't know what you want me to say.” 

Steve frowns deeply at you. Another haircut, another day more handsome than before, he pulls off everything, but not… 

“Say you like them,” he demands, hooking his thumbs in his pyjama top and pulling it outwards to properly show you the front. 

Steve is wearing Christmas pyjamas. The Grinch from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas in all his scrooge glory grins at you evilly against a red background. The pants are white, patterned by red and green drawings of the Grinch holding a Christmas present. He looks much happier from your husband's thighs than the long sleeved shirt. 

“Babe, they have cuffs. We're gonna be warm all day,” he says. 

“They don't match,” you say, pointing to the Grinch on his leg, who holds a pink gift wrapped in yellow ribbon. “Maybe it's the pink and red throwing me off.” 

His frown turns to a pout, the almond shape of his warm brown eyes at a downturn as he says, “You really don't like them.” 

You crack like a weak walled chestnut over a flame. “I'm kidding! I'm just messing with you, baby, I love them. They're so Christmas-sy. Did you get some for me?” 

His relief is palpable. “I got some for everyone.” 

Steve got matching pyjamas for himself, you, the kids, and Robin. He shows you them from a bag on the kitchen table, where you ooh and aah reluctantly. You love him, love everything he does, but you're finally on your holidays vacation and you'd wanted to spend as much of it sitting down as possible. Not that sitting down is possible at home, but you digress. 

Steve senses your reluctance with a grumble pressed into the back of your neck, his arms grabbing you from behind. “Alright, I get it! You hate me and your kids and you hate Christmas most of all, whatever. I should've married Tammy Thompson.” 

You laugh and lean forward over his arms. “Tammy Thompson wouldn't have wanted a thing to do with you, H, on account of you being a cruel, know-it-all narcissist who forces his exhausted wife off of the couch at every opportunity he–” 

“Alright, that's enough.” 

Steve squeezes you until you're pleading with him to let you go, a riot of giggles forced from your lungs as he digs his hands into your sides, his fingers practically drilled into your ribs. You call for mercy and he ignores it, muttering about narcissism in your ear. He laughs as you laugh, can't keep up the act. 

“Beg for me to stop,” he says. 

“Stop!” you say, trying to pull his arms off of your stomach. “Steve, stop it!” 

“Say you'll wear the pyjamas.” 

“Steve! I'll wear them! Would you–” 

“Get off of her!” Bethie shouts, barrelling into the room to push at her dad's legs. 

It's so unlike Beth to shout that you both immediately stop fighting. For a split second, you think she's worried that Steve was actually hurting you, but then she laughs as she punches him in the thigh and sticks herself between your breathless bodies, two small arms extended to keep you apart. 

When she's sure Steve is done, she wraps her arms around you, looking up into your face with a big smile. “Saved you, mom.” 

“You saved me,” you agree, bending down to hug her, “thank you, sweetheart, thank you.” You drop tens of kisses into her hair and face, so many that Steve makes a show of huffing.

“Beth, she deserved it,” he says. “She doesn't wanna wear our matching jammies. Don't you wanna do that?” 

She looks at him with those big sorry eyes only young children can master. “Yeah, dad, but…” 

“But what?” 

“But she's my mom.” 

You pull one of the kitchen chairs out and sit down, patting your lap for her to climb up and sit with you. “But I'm her mom,” you sing-song, ever so slightly smug. 

“And I'm, what? Cat food?” 

“Don't listen to him, baby, he's just jealous.” 

Steve turns away from you both, showfully miffed. Bethie giggles and turns into your chest. “He's mad,” she laughs. 

“So mad.” You drop your nose into the side of her cheek. 

“Are we still having a treat tonight?” she asks. 

“Of course we are. It's Christmas! Mom's home, daddy's catching up on his sleep, we're all having cake and ice cream and chocolates until we can't eat anymore,” you promise. 

“Wish you were home all the time.” 

“Me too, baby,” you say, rubbing her cheek with the tip of your nose slowly. “I wish you could come to work with me. That would be so fun. But we have to make the most of our time away, yeah? Let's have lots and lots of fun.” 

“I saved you,” she says, “so maybe I can have extra cake.” 

“Beth. You can have as much as you want tonight, I promise.” 

“I love Christmas,” she decides. 

Steve rushes back into the kitchen with a child under each arm. Dove laughs, her eyes practically sparkling, not a care in the world though she's upside down, and Avery clings to Steve's waist, shouting, “Dad, put me down!” through nervous giggles. 

“Tell mom what I told you,” he says. 

“Dad, I'm slipping!” 

“Avery, you're not slipping. I'm frankly insulted that you think I would drop you. Now tell your mother what we said.” 

“Daddy's not a nar-pasit!” Dove says joyfully. “He's a sweetheart.” 

“He's a huge narcissist,” you correct in a similar tone. 

“He's dropping me!” Avery cries. 

Steve shakes her until she screams. “I am not! For Christ's sake, I can curl you like two pound weight, you delinquent! Now.” He takes a deep, fake breath, pulling the two girls higher into his armpits. “Like we rehearsed.” 

“I did my turn,” Dove says, reaching out for you, her smile hard to miss even if she is upside down..

“Dad didn't even want to marry that lady,” Avery says, her eyes squeezed closed. Steve chuckles and kisses her head, amused by her silly worry. “He's only ever wanted to be in love with you. And to drop me.” 

Steve chokes he laughs so hard, leaning forward and depositing the eldest girl onto two steady feet. “Perfect as always, Ave. And you!” He twists into a shape, Dove's head getting closer and closer to the floor. She couldn't be happier, giggling like she's been tickled the whole while. “You did perfect too, honey.” 

“I didn't even bring up that lady,” you say. 

Steve and Dove return back to the right way round after some careful manoeuvring. “My bad. Babe. Y/N. I'm sorry, okay? I'm a loser and–” He nudges Dove aside gently to take your hands, your knees, ignoring Beth where she's in the way to kneel in front of you. “I just need you to want to wear these pyjamas as bad as I want you to. So pull it together.” 

You put your lips to the shell of Beth's ear. “Should we forgive him?” 

“Mmm…” Beth points at Avery. “He has to say sorry for almost dropping Avey.” 

“Right.” You nod sagely. 

Steve turns to Avery with wide eyes, “You're not actually upset, are you?” he asks, putting out his hand to her. 

“My brains are like cranberry sauce,” she says. 

He raises his eyebrows, delighted. “Yeah? The thick one from the can?” 

Dove climbs under his arm. He pulls her in for a cuddle unthinkingly, but just as quickly she's ducking away from him to walk up to Avery, reaching for her face. Avery leans down obligingly. 

Dove pokes her forehead. 

“I'm not really jelly!” Avery says, giggling. 

“Well, I'm sorry if I scared you almost dropping you,” Steve says, holding his hands together, brown eyes like melting sugar in his pleading. “Can you please forgive me, so mommy will forgive me, and we can put on our new jammies?” 

Avery isn't stubborn. “Yeh, okay. I'll forgive you.” 

He smiles, turning to you now for the final verdict. 

“I already said I'd wear them, Steve,” you say with a grin. 

“Oh. Good. Alright.” He climbs to his feet, split from cheek to cheek. “I'm gonna go get the baby. Aw, shit, and the camera. Practise your poses until I come back, angels!”

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: thank you so much for all the feedback! I am loving hearing your guys thoughts and I'm having so much fun with this

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), mentions of SA.

Word count: 2730

(all photos are from pinterest)

The following day was another quiet day, and though Rhysand had stayed up with me all night like he promised, I didn’t hear from him in the morning. I avoided my brother at all costs and Lucien as well and spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the ball at the Autumn Court that would be taking place tonight. I was sure to pick my dress carefully, opting for purple again.

I used to not care for balls, most of the time I would show up and not have anyone to see save for Viviane and Kallias who always had each other to dance with. This of course left me to dance with Lucien or not dance at all. I always left bored and feeling more lonely than I had been before I got there. 

I knew tonight would be different not just because of Rhys, but because of Eris. My brother has made it very clear at breakfast that I was to dance and charm Eris all night. The thought made my stomach churn and my eyes water, but I knew better than to disobey. 

From the second I walked into the ballroom I could feel Rhysand. The mass of people swirling and dancing around under the gargantuan chandelier made it near impossible for me to find him. I nearly reached out with the bond before my brother grabbed my arm harshly. 

“Remember sister, you are to charm Eris whatever means necessary,” he growled in my ear so only I could hear. 

“I will, now I’m going to find Viviane.” I glared and sauntered off to do just that. 

The ballroom was impossibly packed but finding Viviane’s ice white hair among the crowd was easier than I thought it would be. 

“Well you two look amazing,” I beam walking over to where her and Kallias are being wall flowers. Her dress looks like it was made entirely out of frost, and cascades down her body like it was made for her, knowing how Kallias likes to dote on her it probably was. 

“Me? Look at you! Purple is your color,” she smiles. 

“So, are there any eligible bachelors for me to romance tonight?” I laugh taking her arm and walking around the perimeter of the ballroom with her and Kallias. 

“No one worthy of note, but you know how picky I am when selecting a suitable man for you,” she giggles. 

“That’s true, you’re a worse critic than I am,” I smile. We promenade around the dancefloor until we run into one of Viviane’s friends and she stops to talk. I take it as my opportunity to glance around the room looking for a particular High Lord and finally I find him. 

He’s at the edge of the room wearing black as usual, conversing easily with two Illyrians. Their wings take up most of the space around them. The one with longer hair is obviously drunk as he lets out a laugh that reverberates throughout the room, the one with the shorter hair, swathed in shadows, simply shakes his head and smiles. Rhysand has yet to see me and to draw his attention I give the bond a tug, the first time I’ve ever done it. 

His head snaps up in my direction and I see the corner of his mouth curl. 

By the cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my mate. 

“Why thank you my lord, I seemed to remember you had a certain affinity for the color violet,” I muse back to him and I swear from this distance I can see his eyes light up. 

The Illyrians next to him turn their heads to look at me, the one with the long hair gives me a knowing smirk and I quickly turn my head back to the conversation Viviane is having. 

I hear Rhys chuckle in my head, They don’t bite darling. Well Cassian might, but only if you ask him to. He muses over the bond. 

“An interesting proposal, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say back trying to hide my smile. 

You little minx. 

Before I can say anything back I feel a hand on my back, I turn to find Eris there, a hopeful look in his eye. He takes my hand and kisses it in greeting. 

“Y/n, what a pleasure it is to have you in our court.” he smiles.

“Of course, my brother and I were very honored to receive an invitation,” I say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. 

“You were the first invite we sent, by now I’m sure your brother has told you of my feelings towards you,” he smirks. 

“He has brought them to my attention, and I must say I’m flattered,” I smile.

“Might I have this dance?” he asks, my eyes flit to Rhysand for half a second, but it’s long enough that I can see the rage simmering in those violet eyes.

“Of course,” I say, taking Eris’ hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor. His hand spreads over my waist almost obsessively as we waltz around the room. 

“You really are quite the sight to behold y/n, I can see why your brother keeps you locked up in the Spring Court,” Eris praises me. 

“I regret that he does so, if I had been allowed out more I would’ve found out much sooner how amazing of a dancer you are,” I smile flirtatiously. 

“Among one of my many talents my dear, though you’ll find out soon enough about those,” he whispers in my ear. 

We dance on and on swirling about the room to the music. From the corner of my eye I can see Tamilin and Beron watching the two of us and for the first time in a long time Tamlin almost looks happy. However it’s not long until I see his eyes catch on to a beautiful brunette that seems to grab all his attention. My skin starts to buzz again and it isn’t long until a large hand claps Eris on the shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Rhysand asks Eris smoothly. His words say one thing but his eyes look at Eris like he would cut off his hands or other important body parts if he were to say no. 

“Of course,” Eris says, passing me off to Rhysand and taking his leave.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snap at him.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of that,” he says cooly. 

“Someones jealous,” I muse.

“Very,” Rhysand confesses with a small smile. 

 As we sweep across the dancefloor, the feeling of his hand on my waist is all too familiar and I can’t help but remember the last time it was there. I look to the side to find the two Illyrains standing at the edge of the ballroom watching us. 

“Who did you bring with you tonight?” I ask Rhys. 

“My most trusted friends and members of my court, Cassian and Azriel. Azriel is my spymaster and Cassian is the general of my armies.” he explains. “I grew up with them, they are like brothers to me.” 

“Do they know?” I inquire further. 

“That we’re mates? Yes. I think Cassain would start a war for you already,” he chuckles. 

“Interesting, I would’ve thought they’d be upset,” I say, turning my head back towards Rhys.  

“You are not my court’s enemy, your brother is. You aren’t damned by association, and besides they are my brothers, they want me to be happy.” Rhys explains further.

“It sounds like you have quite the amazing family,” I acknowledge and he picks up on the longing in my phrase right away. “I doubt I’ll be treated the same here in the Autumn Court.”

“Why would it matter how the Autumn Court treats you?” he questions. 

“Because I’m marrying Eris,” I sigh, keeping my head down, unable to meet the sadness I know resides in his eyes now. 

“What?” he growls and for the first time since I’ve known him I’m afraid of him. 

“My brother has decided to marry me off to Eris for political gain,” I explain further.

Rhys takes my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, at this point people are so drunk they don’t even notice. He leads me to a room off the ballroom and closes the door. I take a moment to look around at the dimly lit study, filled with old books and mahogany furniture. I lean against the desk and look at Rhys.

“You’re not going to marry Eris,” he fumes. 

“You say that like I have the option to say no,” I retort as he closes in further. 

“If you marry Eris he will destroy you from the inside out, you will become nothing but a breeding vessel to give him sons.” he tells me.

“I’m going to be the same thing to any Lord my brother marries me to,” I sneer at him. 

“That’s not true,” Rhysand shakes his head. 

“Oh really?” I scoff. 

“It wouldn’t be that way with me. You would be my wife, and my High Lady as well as my  mate. You wouldn’t have to be sexually assaulted in your own home, or barricade yourself in your room to be safe! You would have rights and freedom and you would have Cassian and Azriel and a family that loves you!” he yells passionately, getting closer to me. “And you would have me, and I would love you too.” he confesses quieter.

A tear slips from my eye as I take in all that he’s said. He looks at me from just an arms length away, waiting for me to say something back.

 “Rhysand I can’t-” I start to say. 

“Don’t you dare say that you can’t,” he says, stepping forward and caging me into the desk, his mouth dangerously close to my own. “If you were mine there’s not a person in this world that would dare to touch you. You know that.”

I feel a hand go to my waist and he uses the other to wipe the tears from my eye. A different kind of tension fills the room as his breath fans my face leaving kisses where my tears once were. 

“Rhys please,” I rasp out lightly pushing him away.  His hands on my waist tighten. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now y/n,” he says tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He’s right, I do want him to kiss me but I can’t even form the words to ask him that. “I thought so,” he says and then his lips are on mine. 

I taste all of him and need all of him. He pulls me so close to him I think I might melt into his skin. I throw my hands around his neck like he might be ripped away from me at any given moment. I feel his hands leave my waist and fly to the desk behind me. The next thing I hear is the clattering of glass, books and paper. He lifts me up and places me on the desk positioning his frame between my legs. 

“Rhys,” I moan as his lips find my neck. 

“I love it when you say my name,” he groans into the kiss, using his body to press my back into the desk and anywhere that isn’t concealed by my dress gets goosebumps from the cold surface. “I need to taste you,” his hands travel down my body and he sinks to his kneels before me, never breaking eye contact. 

“What are you doing?” I ask earnestly. 

“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” he questions back, his hand ghosting over my clothed core, my breath hitches. 

“N-no,” I squeak. He lifts up the many layers of my skirt and bunches them around my waist. 

“And have you ever touched yourself here?” he further inquiries rubbing a hand over my undergarments. 

I’m too embarrassed to speak, I just give him a shallow nod.

“Probably while you’re reading all those dirty books right y/n darling?” he smirks loving how the pink tints my cheeks. “And do you want me to touch you here?”  

I give him another shallow nod. 

“I’m gonna need to hear words darling,” he persists. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I spit out, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?” he taunts me. 

“Yes I want you to touch me there,” I whine. 

He lets loose a feral grin before I feel him gently pull down my undergarments, taking his time to let his fingertips brush down the expanse of both my legs while he does it.  He pulls then off over my heels and discards them. I watch him intently as he lowers his mouth to me and licks a long stripe clean up my pussy flicking my clit at the very top. My back arches off the desk and I let out a moan. 

“Shhh darling, we can’t have other people knowing what sinful things you’re allowing me to do to you right now. Especially poor Eris, he’ll never get to hear you moan like this for as long as he lives,” Rhys smirks before disappearing under my dress again to feast on me. 

My back arches again and my hand flies over my mouth to cover my own moan. I feel Rhysand bring one of his hands up to grasp my free one. A touch so simple, yet so intimate. His tongue swirls hungrily over my clit and it takes everything in me not to scream. I squeeze his hand tighter and he chuckles, sending a vibration through my pussy. 

You taste amazing, like you were made for me. He says into my mind. 

I squeeze his hand harder at his word. I had spent most of my life reading books about this, sex and romance. I assumed all the women writing them were exaggerating how good it could be. In the spring court it was always seen as a pleasure for the male, not the female. But the way Rhys is using his tongue on me right now, has me seeing stars which I know is no coincidence. His mouth closes around my clit suckling it. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. 

Fuck darling. I lied, I like it when you say my name, I love it when you moan it. 

“Rhys I’m gonna,” I cry trying to keep quiet. 

Cum mate. I want you to cum all over my face. He growls into my mind. 

It was almost as if he compelled me to. My back arches off the desk for the final time and I use my hand to stifle any sound that comes out of my mouth. He works me through my orgasm and when my body stops shaking he places one final kiss over my clit. His head pops up from under my skirts, his eyes shown with satisfaction as he licks the remnants of my arousal off his lips. 

I was on him before he could even speak, pulling him by his neck and kissing him hard. I fumble for the strings on his pants and he grabs my wrist to stop me.  

“No, not tonight,” he states. I immediately feel disappointment, the sedition I felt earlier had long left me the second that man licked his lips. 

“Rhys please,” I whine. 

“As much as it makes my cock twitch to hear you beg for me, I won’t let the first time I fuck you be on Beron Vanserra’s desk.” he chuckles, and leans in close to my ear. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time my mate I want to hear every strangled cry and moan I pull from your body. And when I cum inside you for the first time I want to hear you scream my name so loud all of Prythian knows just who’s mate you are. Is that clear?” 

Butterflies hit my stomach and all I can do is nod slowly every coherent thought in my brain long gone. All I can think of is how badly I want him to make good on his promise.

“Good girl, now let's get your panties back on before a certain High Lord of Spring starts to miss you,” he smiles.

Taglist: Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris

#rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand fluff #rhysand angst #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand smut #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!thor headcanons with fem!kokushibo!reader

warning: spoilers from the anime or manga, obsessive behavior, violence, explicit language, stalking. Please take caution when reading the content.

The intention of this story is for entertainment purposes only, it is not my personal belief(s). The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged.  There are also triggers, so please take caution. You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Credit for this piece goes to @recreationalfanfics and their phenomenal works, specifically this one. I’d also like to thank @onecantsimply and @dazailover1900 for helping me proofreading this piece!

Thor is bored. Although he was slightly interested in this Ragnarök, he believed his fight would not even last a minute. A single swing of his Mjölnir is an absolute victory for the gods, and his opponent would be wiped away from the arena in a bloodied sack of crumpled flesh. He was not fazed by the revelation of Heimdall’s announcement that humanity’s representative was a six-eyed demon from the Sengoku era, the former Moon Hashira [First Name] [Last Name], or how the other deities claimed the unfairness of the situation. Despite the outcry, Zeus allowed this fight to be the first official match. 

A demon was born from the malice of mankind. It was only fitting that the Thunder Berserker would destroy it. To give an example of the gods superiority over the humans.  Heimdall blew his horn, commencing the beginning of Ragnarök. Thor did not think of it as anything special, nor did he care for the demon or that the demon was a woman because it would do nothing to alleviate his boredom. 

Oh, but what a fool he had been.

From the moment that his opponent unsheathed her sword and released the first form of her sword technique, everything changed. He used his Mjölnir to block the numerous crescent blades, and the demon used it as an opportunity to get close and strike at him. The blade swung vertically, clanging against the hammer. While Thor remained focused on blocking this attack, the crescent blades changed direction and struck his body.

Once on the right, two on the left, and the last one cleaved through his toga. Yet each blade had penetrated his body, drawing blood from the Valhalla’s Vanguard. Blood from a bored god. 

[First Name] blinked. “So…the First Form is enough to cause minimal damage yet your arteries and muscles are still intact. The body of a god is much more durable than I initially thought.” The demon adjusted her stance, twisting clawed hands around the handle of her sword. “Perhaps the Fifth Form would be preferable…then again, Lady Brunhilde would be upset if there is damage to the arena and the crowd.” She murmured. “Oh, well. I will not know until I try.” Six [Eye Color} orbs stared up at him. “Are you ready, Lord Thor?”

The crowd was stunned, as had been Thor…until his shock became excitement. And it only grew with each passing second that his and [First Name]’s weapons, tactics, and agility collided. She was not holding back, and neither would he. 

How could he, after he had finally found an equal? The one person who would make his life exciting again? He wanted this fight to continue if it meant he had another moment to clash against his beloved Moon Hashira. 

Alas, nothing lasts for eternity. 

Their fight ends in a draw, much to everyone’s shock. But Heimdall’s announcement did not deter [First Name] from running towards him with her sword, pushing the last remaining energy into her speed to land one more, just one more strike to give humanity a chance to survive against the gods. 

Such a gesture only made Thor’s heart flutter in adoration as he sidestepped the attack, stopping the blade’s trajectory with his bare hand.

 [First Name] was about to exhale another breath, to release another form of her beautiful fighting style, when Zeus officially (and reluctantly) declared that the first bout of Ragnarök is a stalemate. The two of them will fight later on as a tie-breaker. 

If it had not been for Brunhilde’s interference, [First Name] would have ignored the supreme god in favor of finishing the job. Thor watched the woman reluctantly withdraw herself from him, sheathing her sword and walking back to humanity’s corner with a slight limp in her gait. 

The Moon Hashira was covered in sweat, blood, and burn marks from the backlash of Mjölnir’s attacks, yet she held her head high with a composed expression. Yet the Thunder God could sense her anger. She was upset that their fight had come to an end like this. She wanted to keep going until one of them was dead.  

Yes…there is no doubt in Thor’s mind no longer. [First Name] [Last Name] is his soulmate. And he will do anything to keep her at his side, even betray his brethren to fight alongside the humans. He wanted her, he needed her to feel alive.

He did not want to be separated from the former Demon Slayer for a single moment. He did not want anyone taking his precious person away from him, be it a god or a champion of humanity.

Once he was healed, Thor would seek out Brunhilde. Knowing cunning and desperate she is to save humanity, it would not be too hard to make a deal with the Valkyrie, wouldn’t it?

Bonus Content: 

Following her fight against the Norse Berserker, [First Name] would spend each day training. She had truly believed that her imprisonment in Helheim, battling against other demons in a battlefield made from fire and brimstone before Brunhilde had brought them here to Valhalla, would have made her stronger…yet it still wasn’t enough. 

To reach a stalemate between two warriors would be considered dishonorable when she had been a human woman. But it was even worse to turn your back against humanity and become a demon because you feared death so much. That was what she had done. 

Now…she had a chance to prove that she is much more than a disappointing sibling who would forever live in the shadow of her prodigal little brother. Lady Brunhilde has been given her this opportunity.

And she will not disappoint her new master…or would it be more appropriate to call the Valkyrie a ‘business partner’? Wasn’t the reason that the first fight between her and Thor had gone swimmingly…is because that the gods remained oblivious to what Brunhilde really had planned for this battle?

After all, they still believed that there is no weapon that can harm a god. To know that their strongest god would be defeated by a demon who wasn’t blessed with a Divine Weapon…wouldn’t it make them feel even more inferior?

Taglist:

@onecantsimply

@rukia-writes

@recreationalfanfics

@radioactivesweet

#snv x reader #snv thor #shuumatsu no valkyrie #thor record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok #ror thor #ror thor x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #femreader #yandere #yandere male #forbidden-sunlight #ns.fw

[gay-dorito-dust]

♥️💙 I thought this is cute but Please request like this kinda a prologue but the day when Gabriel was born, Miguel is holding his son for the first time and thanking shyreader for giving him a chance being a father. https://www.tumblr.com/gay-dorito-dust/719858448136896512/would-you-be-willing-please-to-write-a-miguel-x

When Miguel caught wind that you were going into labour, nothing else mattered in that moment to him other then being there with you to welcome the new life you both had a hand in creating.

Lyla had never seen this man move as fast as he did upon hearing the news that it almost replicated how he reacted when you told him that you were expecting; worried, scared, frightful, all of which hid the underlying excitement and happiness that he felt. And if she was being honest? It was defiantly a welcomed change to the usual brooding, solemn, isolated male she was use to, and she had you to thank for that.

Not only does Lyla thank you for coming into Miguel’s life when he needed someone with a gentle touch, but also for bringing back life and optimism into Miguel’s life. She may take the piss out of him now and then but she only did so in hopes of helping him lighten up from loosing…everything.

‘Want to hold your baby?’ You asked Miguel, looking up from admiring the bundle of joy that was fast asleep in your arms, his tiny hands gripping onto you tightly.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want-‘

‘You won’t hurt him,’ you cut him off to sooth his worries, ‘you could never hurt our Gabriel. He’s as tough as his daddy, or so I’m told.’

Miguel visibly perked at this. ‘Gabriel.’ He repeated the name that came out of his mouth as a whisper filled with fondness with a hint of bittersweetness for the past long gone. ‘Yeah, I named him Gabriel, in honour of Gabriella, I know how special she was to you and I wanted to keep her memory alive in anyway I could.’ You told him, unsure as to how he would react to your reasoning behind it but you didn’t expect to see tears streaming down his face.

Naturally you assumed his tears were a result of you reopening his old wounds, you tried to raise a hand to wipe away his tears without waking up Gabriel, ‘I’m sorry sweetheart, I can change the name of it’s too much, I didn’t meant for you to cry.’ You rambled on but were cut off when Miguel held your hand to his cheek, pressing a flurry of kisses into your palm, whispering praises into your skin. ‘Don’t apologise my beloved.’ He reassured you, letting go of your hand so it could go back to cradling Gabriel as Miguel rested his forehead against yours, purring softly, which never failed in drawing a smile on your face as you felt yourself physically relax into him when you knew that Miguel wasn’t upset.

‘I’m just incredibly thankful for you for blessing me with the opportunity to be a father.’ Miguel told you before pressing another flurry of kisses into your forehead. ‘You deserve this Miguel, you deserve to live the life you’ve always wanted, to live the life as a father to our baby boy who very much would like to be held by you.’ You told him as you gently passed the small bundle over to Miguel, who held him snug against his chest as he looked down at his son with so much love and affection that it almost made you cry just looking at him.

Miguel could immediately tell apart which features Gabriel had inherited from you and the ones he inherited from him by the way his chubby little hand was reaching out to grasp at something; only to make little noises of disgruntlement when he couldn’t latch onto anything but air. ‘Daddy’s here Gabriel, I’m right here, I’ll always be right here, there’s no need to get stressed.’ Miguel cooed as he managed to free a hand to stroke his son’s warm chubby chipmunk cheeks, chuckling to himself when he saw how quick Gabriel was to latch a hand onto his pointer finger. Gabriel’s grasp was a strong one that Miguel knew he wouldn’t be surprised if his son had inherited some of his spider-abilities.

‘You and your mother are both blessings to me, I hope you know that Gabriel and just know that for you and your mother, I’d do anything to keep you both safe…I can’t afford to loose you both…I’d loose my mind if I did. So I’m sorry if I come off as overprotective but just know it comes from a good place.’ Miguel states as he looked over at you when he felt you head rest against his bicep; only to see that you were fast asleep. A smile broke out of Miguel’s face as he leaned over to press another kiss to your forehead. ‘Thank you for all your hard work in bringing about our baby boy, now it’s time for you to rest and to let me take care of you both because that’s what a father does; protects his family.’

#spiderman atsv x reader #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman: atsv #atsv fic #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv imagines #atsv x you #spiderman atsv fic #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x you #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse imagines #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #spiderman 2099 x you

[captainwans]

IT’S MTV, YOU JUST GOT SLIMED!

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: y/n y/l/n graciously accepted her well deserved award from mtv, but little did she know that she was going to get slimed in the process.

warning: nothing but teeth-rotting fluff, humor, laughter and prankster!alex. this is chapter is based and inspired from scarlett johansson’s generation award at the mtv in 2021.

word count: 1,4k | ( gif not mine! )

arabella series!

masterlist!

... [Y/N] HELD THE MTV AWARD WITH BOTH OF HER HANDS, EYES LOOKING AT HERSELF FROM THE COMPUTER THAT WAS PLACED IN FRONT OF HER. She held a graceful smile on her delicate features as she sat crossed legged, waiting for the screen to load. She quietly mumbled what she was gonna say, completely oblivious of Alex standing at the end of room with a devilish smile plastered onto his face.

Since she couldn’t attend the awards and be there physically, she was given the opportunity to make a video due to filming overseas. She was currently joining Alex on tour, having a few weeks off before she was going back to filming her new movie. She was sat beside Matt’s daughter, Amelia, who had all of her art supplies sprawled onto the table.

“Auntie, is that real popcorn?” Amelia asked her, turning her head toward [Y/N] with a curious look.

Her question earned a lot of laughs, including the actress who softly laughed at the little girl. She ruffled her hair before squeezing her cheeks. “No, but I wish it was. Golden popcorn sounds delicious, doesn’t it, bug?” She replied back with a grin, making the little girl giggle as she went back to her drawing.

[Y/N]’s gaze averted away from the little girl toward her computer screen. Her heart fluttered, along with a swarm of butterflies erupting inside her stomach as the screen showed the live broadcast of the MTV Awards. She cleared her throat and fixed her hair, watching the countdown on the screen.

“While [Y/N] [Y/L/N] couldn’t be here with us physically, she’s here live with us right now to receive the award! Everyone, give it up for our favorite Marvel superhero, [Y/N]!” The host announced, and the actress smiled as she heard the crowd cheer from the computer screen.

[Y/N]’s smile widened, using her other hand to wave at the screen. “Thank you all so so much for voting! It marks almost 10 years of being apart of the MCU franchise, and having your love and support means the world to me!” She said with another bright smile as she held the heavy award tightly into her hands.

“Winning Best Actress two years in a row is something that I’m very honored and proud of, and I will continue to work hard and aiming for the best!” She continued as her eyes were glued to the screen, not being aware of Alex almost tip toeing behind her with a bowl of green slime placed into his calloused hands.

[Y/N] continued with her speech, being too focused to not notice everyone around her holding their breath as they watched Alex sauntering toward her with a grin.

Amelia noticed him and was about to say something, but stopped once she saw him placing a finger to his lips. She glued her mouth shut by placing her hands on her mouth. Her muffled giggles earned [Y/N]’s attention for a brief second, but she didn’t let that disturb her and went back with her speech.

Katie grimaced, sitting beside Jamie as the couple watched the spectacle in front of them. “He’s not gonna do it, right?” She whispered, looking at her husband with a look.

Jamie pressed his lips together to stifle back a laugh. He quietly snickered and nodded his head. “Oh, yes. Just watch.”

[Y/N] felt a presence standing beside her, but she ignored it as she was about to finish with her heartfelt speech to her fans. “Lastly, I wanna thank my wonderful cast members, and—“ she managed to say before her speech was interrupted by her audible gasp.

Nick and Miles doubled with laughter as they watched Alex pouring green slime on her. Amelia shrieked with laughter and grimaced, watching the ooze smearing down her face.

[Y/N] felt a sticky, cold and thick matter being poured on her head. She let the award hit her lap with a small yelp, feeling the heavy liquid trickling down her neck and she whirled her head to her husband.

“Alex, what the heck?!” She loudly chided. Her mouth bit back a curse word, noticing Amelia being in the room with them. She closed her mouth and furiously wiped off the slime from her face.

Alex, who was grinning like a child, inched closer to the screen, waving at the live broadcast before turning his attention to his wife. “It’s MTV, you just got slimed!”

Jamie face-palmed with a laugh, leaning his body against Katie, who was a mess from laughing. “Oh, Alex.”

The actress gagged and spit out the slime from her mouth before looking at him with an annoyed look. “That’s Nickelodeon!” She growled, trying to brush off the sticky texture out from her shirt but failing.

Alex looked back and forth from his wife and to the bowl that was placed into his hands. His face faltered for a moment and hummed as he realized. “Oh.”

His response earned another loud session of laughter. Matt and Breana captured the scene with their phones. Jamie and Katie were almost falling off the couch from laughing. Nick and Miles pointed their finger to the lead vocalist with a loud cackle, dying at his response.

[Y/N] was fuming and she mumbled incoherent things as she used her sleeve to remove the slime. She looked at the camera, giving them a tip-lipped smile. She heard the crowd going crazy at Alex’s appearance and she chuckled. Crimson danced across her cheeks and she felt blood rush through her ears, forgetting that they were live. “Well, this is gonna be all they’re gonna talk about on Twitter.” She told her viewers, waving to the camera before closing her computer.

[Y/N] felt him inch closer and she swatted his hands away at his attempt to remove the slime from her hair. “Don’t—Don’t touch me, Alexander.” She said in a stern voice, taking the towel away from his hands.

Amelia stood up from her seat and rushed over to her and grabbed the towel to clean her face. “Let me, Auntie!”

[Y/N]’s face softened at the little girl, closing her eyes as she let her do the work. She gently squeezed her hand, “Thank you, bug.”

Alex stifled back a laugh and nodded his head. He was trying so hard not to crack, and as much as he tried to hold it in he couldn’t. His chest vibrated from laughter and he slapped his knees before collapsing on the couch beside her.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes, her lips curving upwards unknowingly at the sound of his laughter. She opened her eyes, meeting Amelia’s doe-eyes staring right back at her with a toothy grin, which she returned. Her gaze averted way from her toward the others, a small scowl etched onto her face watching her friends still crying and dying from laughter.

“Are you guys done?”

Miles wiped his eyes with his hand and cleared his throat, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, love, but you should’ve seen Alex’s face—it was memorable!” He said, his voice cracking at the end making everyone double with laughter.

Amelia was in [Y/N]’s arms and she shifted her body so that she was facing her. “You should give uncle Al a hug.” The little girl said, eyes tinted with slight playfulness and wiggling her eyebrows making the actress chuckle.

Alex’s head shot up toward Amelia, giving her a pout before quickly standing up from the couch. He let out another breathy laugh as he slowly backed away. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. Don’t give her any ideas.” He pleaded, grimacing as he watched her standing up from the couch.

“What a great idea, Amelia. Alex, honey, I forgive you. Now come here you deserve a hug.” She said with a sweet smile as she sauntered toward him with her arms wide open.

Alex cocked his head to the side, shaking his head with a deep scowl. “You know what, I think I’m good.” He brushed her off as he walked backwards and nearly tripping on his feet.

“You don’t want my hugs?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows, her lips turning into a downwards pout. She wanted to laugh at his horrified expression, watching as he used Miles as his shield.

“My hair is freshly gelled, I don’t want to ruin it. Darling, we have a show in a few—“ he excused behind Miles, who was still cackling, and bolted away mid sentence and ran to the door.

[Y/N] scoffed and sprinted toward the door. “Oh, so you’re worried about your hair?! I spend three hours on mine! You’re lucky I’m not divorcing your ass for this!” She yelled at him as she chased him.

“And I got all of this on camera!”

#captainwans navigation #alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner fluff #alex turner fic #alex turner imagines #alex turner one shot #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner fic rec #fetus alex turner #alex turner series #alex turner arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys headcanons #arctic monkeys x reader #arctic monkeys masterlist #artic monkeys masterlist #alex turner masterlist #alex turner x fem! reader #fetus alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x oc #alex turner x you

[bitchlessdino]

I have a request. You have to really imagine it. But like imagine DILF!seungcheol, with a daddy kink, being like your boss because you babysit his kid. And he finds out you’re attracted to him so he teases you about it. Long story short you end up on his thigh, him helping you chase your high. Then after that he makes you ride him, i don’t know why but I have this image of him throwing his head back and like that would be so hot. I don’t know this though came to me in class.-🎧

Pairing: F!reader x Seungcheol

Genre: suggestive unless yall count thigh riding as smut

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: dilf!seungcheol, loving father cheol, assertive cheol, mention of kids, thigh riding

author note: daddy. that is all. but also, A TATTOO CHEOL??? (mingyu voice: show me!)

Seungcheol was the eye candy of every PTA meeting, especially given that he is a single dad. That was one of the many things you’ve noticed since volunteering to take his place in volunteering in place of him at school events. Everyone practically gave you stink eyes seeing you instead of him, wondering why he bothered hiring a nobody when he could easily wife up one of the other single parents (yes those reasonings had no correlation, yet it somehow makes sense.)

You couldn’t blame them. Your boss is that devastatingly handsome. He turned heads every corner, smiling that gorgeous gummy smile he’s known for, even making you weak at the knees. You had to see him every day, it was natural you developed a little crush on him too, considering he checked all the boxes in your “Daddy issues must haves,” but that’s another story for another day:

He’s just so good with his daughter. He made every opportunity to prove that. He would do anything and everything for his daughter. You noticed that right away when he hired you to be her babysitter and that impression stayed with you even when you upgraded to au pair, basically breathing the same as him 24/7. That didn't make your feelings any easier to manage.

It was his fault now that you think about it. He had to grow super comfortable with you enough to walk around shirtless or come up from the pool for a late dip after the sweetie went asleep, going as far as inviting you to join him. You’d decline every time, thanking the night air for cooling your flushed cheeks, and quickly retreat to the guest room you currently reside in.

If it wasn’t to that extreme, it’s the subtle way you’re making dinner together, living out your delusional domestic dreams. His chest would briefly meet your back, grabbing something in front of you, which you could’ve easily retrieved for him. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than you should’ve when either one of you asks a question.

The tension was deafening.

“It’s really screwed up of him for being that attractive,” You spoke to the other line.

Nami, your friend, was used to your rambling at this point and rolled her eyes at your humble bragging about exactly how hot Seungcheol was, having personally only met him a handful of times. “Oh no, your super sexy boss is not only hot but a perfect father figure for his daughter, making him the most perfect living man on Earth. How awful.”

“It is fucking awful, Nami!” you cross your leg over the other sneaking glance in the gaps of your bedroom door, “He is driving me off a cliff. I don’t know how much I can handle being around him so often. It was fine every two days a week, and now it’s every day. What am I supposed to do with all these feelings?”

“Seduce him.”

“Nami, I’m being serious.”

“So am I, get sexy daddy boss to be your daddy.”

You couldn't see her but you can just visualize the wiggle of her brows.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that. And if I was going to, you know how bad that would go?”

You stand up from the bed to act out the scene in your head, exaggerating your strut toward an imaginary masculine figure, and drawing out the most nasal voice you could muster, “Seungcheol. I am so deeply and irrevocably attracted to you. Please give me one night to prove to myself how I can be devotedly yours.”

You lose yourself in your own laugh as it sounds off in the room, but it was not loud enough for you to ignore the deeper voice in the background. “Just one night?”

You freeze when you realize who it is. Nami could only get an “ooo” in edge-wise until you hung up the phone and hide the phone behind your back. “S-Seungcheol.”

A corner of his lips lifts to his ear before slowly approaching you with his hands in his pockets. He had his sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a sliver of proof of how he spent his mornings at 5 am. He softly snickers, “I’d love to hear about what you can do to prove it to me.”

“Sir, I-I was simply–um, talking about your admirers I’ve noticed. I’m sure you’re not blind to these kinds of people, how forward they are, or how brass…” You chuckle nervously to yourself.

“Do you happen to be one of these admirers?”

He gets closer to you, backing onto the cushion of your bed, towering over you curiously. You could feel your heart racing a million miles a minute, eyes rapidly blinking and you tried grasping any grip of reality. “I-I’m sorry,I—”

“How cute. I figured you were acting peculiar around me but the reason for it is much more interesting than I realized.” 

Either of his arms creates a barrier around you, leaving you in his direct line of vision with barely enough air to breathe. His wide-eyed gaze is tense, piercing back at you as you stare back in fear and admittedly lust.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Miss Y/n.” 

His deep gaze lowers to the shape of your lips, watching them quiver at the sight of him, which fueled the yearning that settled in the pit of his stomach. He sees your eyes dilated, yet shaken, seeing your body dip behind you into the sheets he paid for, you softly panting in the room he owned, staring back into his eyes like a deer caught in headlights. His breath tickles your skin and you could feel him draw him closer.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you confirm my suspicions.”

The tension severs when he hears the voice of his little girl calling for him at the end of the hall, dropping his head in disappointment with a soft whine when the moment passes.

He turns his head and responds to her. “I’ll be right there, sweetie. You wait right there.”

He averts back to you, the sly smile reappearing on his face. “When you join us for dinner today, you’ll sit opposite of me so I can keep an eye on you. When we tuck my little dove into bed, why don’t we have a movie night? Just you and me? Is that okay with you, Miss Y/n?”

You feel as if you held your breath for a long period of time, slowly nodding back at him.

“I prefer verbal consent, Miss Y/n. Would you please accompany me on a company movie night, just the two of us?”

A hasty gulp ran down your throat, “I would like that, Sir.”

“Good.”

The man lets you be, retreating to his daughter who kept calling out to him. His slow steps taunt, echoing in your ears as you fall back against the mattress. You take a silk-lined pillow to the face, muffling your screams, hoping to suffocate under the cushion like that moment suffocating you just then. A loud exhale escapes you as you pulled it away, and you find anxiously wait for dinner time.

Before that incident, Seungcheol insisted on making dinner and having kept that promise you enter the kitchen reluctantly with his back towards you. You keep yourself at a distance, watching the frame of his body constantly shifting as he diced green onions, and you lean against the wall next to him, taking quiet breaths and struggling to do so.

It wasn’t a long show when the most darling girl calls you by name and joins your side. Your eyes grow twice their size and picked her up in your arms, side-eyeing Seungcheol who perked up at the sight of you two together. He washes his hand thoroughly before following after, cooing at his daughter and stealing her away.

Her giggles were astonishingly infectious as he bounced her in his arms, similarly to her father’s laugh in just a higher pitched tone. She was just as sweet as candy, bringing light to every room she enters. You love taking care of her and dare you to say you love her. What wasn’t there to love about someone as precious as she is?

“Alright, now, my little dove.” he sets him on the tile floor and bends his knees to her level. “Y/n and I will finish up here and bring food right out. It’s your favorite, little darling. Spaghetti.”

She bounces in her step, gleefully shouting ‘pasget, pasget’ before running into the dining area, leaving you and Seungcheol alone once again. His eyes shoot right in your direction as he places one foot over the other towards you. Your feet trace back, stumbling until hitting the smooth metal surface behind you, unintentionally cornering yourself. It’s much like the position you were in only some time ago, feeling the weight of his presence, drinking in his full attention. 

When you shut your eyes, anticipating the impact, instead you hear the suction of the fridge release. Your eyelids slowly parts when you realized he just went to grab something in the fridge which you decided to fall flat against. Seungcheol chuckles at your embarrassed reaction, shutting the door to draw his lips dear to your ear. “Can’t seem to wait for me, hmm? Be a little patient, dinner shouldn’t be too long.”

You could hardly focus on dinner after the events that have occurred, glancing up at your employer occasionally as he eats his meal, who cooing every few bites at his daughter beside you. You were lucky to not have had her across from you, fearing your anxiety was obvious on the surface, unable to meet his eyes the entire night. His gaze would occasionally drift off to you, taking note of the unsteadiness of your grasp, 

When the darling did finish her meal, she was all ready to wash up, tugging at your shirt to have you follow. You quickly exchange looks with Seungcheol, who nodded and let you know that he’d be cleaning up after dinner. You get to her night routine fairly quickly: bathing her, brushing her teeth, and reading her the story she wanted luckily without a hitch. 

You softly sigh as her eyes drift off to sleep, seeing that perhaps dinner was a bit indulging enough to give her the sleep bug. She murmurs words of ‘good day’ and ‘good pasqet.’ You pat her head, tucking her in when you hear from the door to her bedroom creak, her father being the culprit.

He presses a single finger to his lips before delicately approaching and having a hand resting on your shoulder, having you hyper-aware of that fact. He doesn't notice as his eyes are tending to his daughter, before pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dove.”

The hand from your shoulder soon falls to the surface of your palm, lacing his fingers through. His head turns to you expectedly, watching that inconsistent breath leave you before whispering with a smile, “Shall we?”

You steadily follow him to the common area where a movie is already playing, seeing the familiar lion’s head roar at the screen above the fireplace. When you ask him what movie he picked out, he responds by saying it didn’t matter, “It’d only be background noise anyway.”

He ushers you on the couch, letting go of your hand. His whole body faces you, locked in your dazed expression, your head thinking, ‘what the hell are you about to do with your boss right now alone?’

“Mind explaining to me what that conversation was about this afternoon?”

You caught the words in your throat, an explanation you planned in your mind all day, replaying the script over and over until you were here with nothing. You blank out in his eyes, wonder what he expected, no, what he wanted you to say. He does nothing in front of you, simply balancing his chin on his hands, and propping at the elbows on his knees. His presence mere inches away from you was enough to sputter incoherent nonsense. Nothing comprehensive to the older man’s ears.

“What was that?”

“I’m…sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” he grins.

His body shifts, his expression relaxed and confident, and he fixates on your breathing. “You can tell me anything, you know. I know when to relax.”

“I…was careless and fully aware of what you witnessed, but I won’t take action, sir. I wouldn’t do anything that breaches our contract and trust.”

He snickers, glancing at the iced whiskey on the coffee table before retrieving it and taking a sip. 

“Well, you’re a diligent employee, I’m sure, and even a better caretaker for my little girl. But I’ll have you know, there’s nothing in our contract about having feelings other than what other professionals do for each other.”

“For each other,” You repeat.

“For each other.” His index finger traces the line of your jaw, eyes dropping to your hips.

The silence persists. Nothing but the sound of practically white noise from the television sounds and you’re lost in each other’s presence. Seungcheol’s hand drops the glass back on the coffee table until ultimately rests on your thigh, meanwhile, your hand fingers the fabric of his cotton dress shirt was still pristine despite the stereotypically messy dinner.

“...May I make the first move then?” You ask.

“I would want nothing more.”

Scooting closer, your lips line up with his, hesitating momentarily before feeling the thick pair brush up against yours languidly. There was an immediate sense of guilt that you held hostage in your gut, pulling away almost instantly. His eyes stare back at you confused, watching you draw out excuses. “Maybe we shouldn’t…This seems like a bad idea.”

“Why…” He pesters, pushes you back on the couch, pressing you on, “because I pay you? Because I employed you? Or…because you think you won’t be able to stop?”

“...all of it.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

He takes hold of your hips and seats you in his lap in an instant, you now towering over him with your eyes blown out in shock. You groan making contact with his body, repeatedly bumping into your clothed cunt, dying to be set free of its restraints. His arms embrace your body with all the strength within him until he feels your lips finally relax against his. Your lips press against his daringly, a harsh pressure releasing with his tongue inviting you inside in mere seconds.

You press up against him, rhythmically grinding down on him. His groans leave him naturally, his grips tight on your hips. “Should I help you chase that high of yours?”

His hips guide you over his lap, seeing how one of your legs traps itself between his legs, he feels your body loosen underneath him, gradually picking up your own pace. His head slightly throws back at how bold you let yourself be. Your hand creeps through his hair, rolling your dampened arousal on the stiff steel thighs, “Mmh.”

“That feel good, beautiful?”

You nod achingly, “Yes, daddy.”

“Daddy,” his expression lits up, “Well that’s quite the declaration.”

“I’m sorry,” you manage to breathe out, “Can’t help myself.”

A devilish grin spreads far across his cheeks, pushing away the loose strands of hair away from your face. Your weight presses into him, and he feels his already hard cock twitch in his pants. “By all means, baby, call me whatever you want. If daddy is what you want, daddy is what you’ll get.”

You smile at him softly, gratefully, “Thank you…daddy.”

He soft moans, your body finding home in his embrace. Your tongue entangled with his, just pure heat between your body. His shirt is lost between the cushions of the couch, all thanks to you, and his hands reach underneath your shirt to hold you by the small of your back as the other kneads a breast in his hand. “Fuck, you feel heavenly.”

He moans against your swollen lips, running your body up and down on his thigh, hearing those sweet melodic moans he’s starting to get used to. Your skin was flushed against his, you whine loud and desperately for him to hear. “Please daddy. I want you to ruin me.”

And like that, a switch flips in his body and he’s pulling you up from his lap to loop around his waist. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #anon asks #asks #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #🎧 anon

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

HI! welcome back from your break! we really missed you!!

how have you been? i have not been doing well- i got in a car crash on monday (im not hurt, only bruised up) so ive just been recovering from that. i'd like to request our beloved alcina caring for her fem partner who got in a car accident. ty!!

Hello, there! And thank you, dear 😊 It's always nice to be missed ♥️ As for your injuries, I do hope you've healed up some and that you're feeling better! 🫂

As for your request, here you go! 😁

***

"Draga.. just what is it that you think you're doing?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, only having made it half way across your lover's bedroom before she caught you.

"It's.. it's been three days, Alcina! I feel disgusting and I need to bathe!" You exclaimed with a pout.

The Lady's face softened ever so slightly, giving you a chuckle as she made her way into the room.

"You do realize that I left that bell next to you so that you could call me if you need anything, hm? And that 'anything' includes bathing."

You averted your eyes, doing your best to keep your balance. While you understood that the Countess was only looking out for your best interest, you couldn't help but feel a little guilty for how much time she'd spent looking over you the past couple of days.

"I.. I didn't want to bother you, my lady. And I'm not even that badly hurt! That accident-!"

"That accident could have been much worse, draga! The whole carriage flipped! And the fact that I wasn't there.. that I couldn't stop it!"

Alcina took a deep breath, her fingers coming to pinch the bridge of her nose as she exhaled.

"I can not lose you." She said quietly.

"But.. you didn't lose me!"

Her eyes opened abruptly, glowing in a mix of fear and rage.

"AND I WON'T! I CAN'T. MIRANDA KNOWS I'VE ALREADY MADE SURE THAT INCOMPETENT DRIVER WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. IF HE HAD-"

You hobbled over to her, wincing slightly as you took her hand.

"Hey, hey.. darling.. breathe for me."

And she did, squeezing your hand softly in the process.

"I am sorry, pet. I lost myself for a moment there."

"Hey, it's okay. I understand. Would it make you feel better to help me bathe?"

Alcina smiled, the subtle lines at the corners of her eyes creasing and lifted you into a full bridal carry.

You chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Mh.. as if I would ever turn down the opportunity to bathe you, my pet."

"Uh huh."

The Countess placed you down with the utmost of care before helping you to undress - with a sad, far away look in her eyes as her gaze scanned over the many bruises and scrapes that still decorated your body.

"Would you mind if I used some of your eucalyptus oil?" You asked her and she smiled.

"You, draga, may use any of my oils that you see fit."

She hummed quietly as she began to draw your bath, adding the oil you requested along with another she said would be good for the pain. And another that was supposed to help promote healing. It was such a simple act, yet so endearing. And only showcased the Lady's inherent need to take care of those she loved.

"Thank you, Alcina."

She blushed softly. "Whatever for, pet?"

"For loving me?"

At this the Lady chuckled, testing the bath with a single finger before lifting you carefully and lowering you into it.

"Draga.. loving you is the easiest thing in the world."

This time it was your turn to blush, with the indulgent heat from the water already willing a deep flush across your body.

"Charmer." You said, biting your bottom lip.

"Mh.. perhaps."

You could hear the smile that coated her words, felt the tenderness in her touch and the love that encompassed it. Her hands ever so careful as she used the washcloth to cascade warmth over your sore muscles and bruised skin.

"Now.. lay back, my pet. I want you to soak in here for at least twenty minutes. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Mh.. good."

She started to stand and you grabbed her hand, forcing her to look back at you.

"Can you.. can you stay with me awhile?"

She looked down at you with the most tender look you had ever seen, a look that made your heart lurch and your cheeks burn.

"Oh, draga.. I'll stay with you for as long as you need."

"So, forever?"

She paused before nodding, blinking away a single unspent tear.

"Yes, my pet. Forever."

***

I do hope you enjoyed this, dear! And be sure to take care of yourself ♥️

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #always a pleasure to write some soft alcina 🥺 #feel all the hugs from our illustrious countess! #re8 asks

[basiatlu]

On Theft in Art

First: thank you to the anon here and the other many people who brought this to my attention! I know you did it out of support of me and I love you for it.

I was ready to keep it private as I didn’t want anything negative to come up and be associated with my art. But as I was asked across different platforms concerning the art in question I realized it really bummed me out. I’m here to have a good time in the fandom and create with you all. We have a good thing here in the community and I didn’t want any smoke with another artist - a mutual even.

So to help me feel a little better about it I want to turn this into an opportunity to teach others on the differences between Reference, Inspiration, Reinterpretation, and Theft

Reference: (usually) a visual source of information in order to better understand something. Example here is of my reference board and the art I am currently working on.

My favorite example of a professional using reference photos is by Hirohiko Araki (creator and artist of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure), who uses fashion editorials and photoshoots ALL the time it’s awesome - tysm @yumiaiyuma for showing me this goldmine

Study and Inspiration: here is a great example from the wonderful Stephanie Pepper. Notice the caption stating these are studies, the movie it is from, and I will even go on to say that this artist is influenced or inspired by the prolific works of J. C. Leyendecker (but what’s key is that Stephanie Pepper has developed and practiced to the point of deviating from his work and become a style of art completely her own - and she’s so recognizable in my opinion!)

Personal Example for Inspiration:

An Example of Reinterpretation: note - Both these classical artists whose works are being recycled are dead and no longer missing out on potential work and income. Where stealing ideas and art from current artists hurts them financially and mentally and emotionally. Howl as The Fallen Angel by _mimimaru on Instagram is an interpretation of a 1847 painting by Alexandre Cabanel and is now considered public domain // the Mickey Mouse self portrait was by Charles Boyer and is a parody of the famous illustration by Norman Rockwell and was commissioned by Walt Disney, himself.

Now here’s the part that is concerning to several people, myself included.

Recently, an artist found the reference I used, and decided to draw Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Regulus staring at Sirius getting supposedly punished by Walburga Black off screen.

Let’s be clear: this isn’t a matter of tracing or claiming my image as their own. I do not mind at all if myself and another artist end up using the same reference. It happens all the time. Referencing and studying is not stealing. Reinterpretation is great for meme art challenges and paying respect to old classics. Even being inspired and doing one’s own version of another artist’s idea is totally cool, especially if you tag and/or shoutout the artist that inspired you.

I genuinely love and appreciate everyone who has brought this to my attention and who has been supportive and defensive of me with this. That reaction means more to me than anything else in this whole ordeal, if I’m being honest. So thank you all so much, with all my heart.

In closing: Do I hope this is all one gigantic coincidence? Absolutely. It’s one of those very uncool things that hurts my heart as an artist. I just want everyone to enjoy art and inspire each other so we can all grow. I do not want any malice to come from this either. I just wanted to inform everyone that I am aware of this, and give some of my thoughts on it. I also wanted to use this as a way to educate everyone on artistic process and why these things might happen sometimes.

Edit: me and the artist have chatted and we see it as a silly coincidence ♡ and honestly I'm happy and so relieved with that. But I think a lot of this info is still good to be mindful of in a creative community where we circulate ideas and content regularly.

#shushbosh #ugly business sorry #I’m happy to talk with anyone on this of course #art thoughts

[cymk8]

I can't stop looking at your Shadowlach art. Any of it. All of it.

- One cos of your artistry: beautiful and soft and the negative space?? Hello??

- Two cos HELLO?? you draw them so soft and sweet and it is just so peaceful to look at your art. (The kitties in the hair brushing one are *so* cute, and non-ship friends are also enamoured with them :3)

Tell us more about your headcanons, please!

Some prompts if needed: How did things progress from platonic? Was it romantic from early on or primarily physical attraction? Were they on similar pages throughout their relationship or did one fall harder?

General invitation to word dump: what thoughts have you most crazed? Why don't you let them out ;)

(thank u so much...for your compliment and also the fact you sent this ask in the first place has made my day)

God I have so fucking many thoughts I'm going little insane about it and I'm literally so happy you asked because. I have been w a i t i n g HAHA

Your prompts:

We have all heard That Line™; I'd imagine that having both been so pent up, they would immediately jump each other's bones given the opportunity — Shadowheart is absolutely unsubtle and Karlach is Karlach

I actually think it would be one sided for a while!! But not in the piney way. I think Shadowheart attempts to rizz the shit out of Karlach only to fail because Karlach's situation with her engine essentially made her exceptionally good at Resisting Temptation (I find it absolutely hilarious that most of Karlach's in-game responses are so purposefully obtuse when it comes to her)

That in particular pisses Shadowheart off since she would be so used to being able to finesse her way through things like this (because of her background as a professional 'spy' — because otherwise...she's an absolute dork); it makes her try extra hard and eventually come to the conclusion that her attraction is greater when in fact Karlach has had more experience living like a Nun™ than she does

(cont.)

As for the development...I think they would be on similar levels of attraction, but tackle it differently — Karlach would immediately embrace the feeling and Shadowheart will try her fucking hardest to rationalize it away/deny it (queen of repression)

They would probably be fast friends (Shadowheart rizzing Karlach), then actual friends (because Karlach is so earnest Shadowheart feels like she can be earnest too), physically involved, then romantically involved — it only outwardly seems fast, but they definitely have things to work through before they can actually really be honest and feel that they can rely on each other completely

Random headcanon/general thoughts that have going FERAL IN THE CLUB:

I think they work really well together — they balance each other out in the sense that they have very different ways of handling their own stresses and trauma; they have a lot of opportunities to grow even just by being around one another (for example, Shadowheart is so Repressed™ even other characters feel the same way — and Karlach is the opposite); restraint and freedom go hand in hand 😌

They both have a love for adorable things...once the all of the shit with Karlach's heart gets sorted and they FINALLY get to live that cottagecore life, I think their farm would have so many more animals. Like. So many...Karlach would honestly just be so excited to be able to care for things again — and Shadowheart would be excited because she's finally allowed to be just as loud about showing that she DOES care

The idea that Shadowheart's hair could be a signifier for how closed off she is — so throughout the acts, she slowly lets it down/get messier figuratively and literally in front of everyone...AND KARLACH gets permission to touch and braid it as a sign of true trust and vulnerability; it becomes something of a ritual (Karlach is obsessed simply for the fact that she isn't seen as dangerous and is trusted to be able to be gentle about things) (thanks @kanobies for giving me that sweet, sweet psychic damage)

To add to that: they like physically pampering each other — Karlach finally internalizing that she can be 'pretty' and deserving of gentle care and Shadowheart internalizing that she is allowed to want/ask for things that aren't strictly necessary or used towards a greater cause (I don't think she's ever had a strong sense of bodily autonomy in the sense that she was gaslit into thinking every aspect of her life was for Lady Shar)

I'M OBSESSED WITH THE FACT THAT THEY RADIATE DOG ENERGY IN VASTLY DIFFERENT WAYS: thank you Isobel for immediately clocking Shadowheart on sight by calling her a feisty little terrier and for Karlach being literally Clifford the Big Red Dog and

The difference in lifespans...FUCK. KARLACH WOULD TRY SO HARD TO MAKE THEIR TIME TOGETHER WORTH IT/MEMORABLE since she knows her life is comparatively short; Shadowheart would never take it for granted; they make each other keepsakes...🫠🥹🥹

And I still have so much more but I gotta seem like I'm at least somewhat classy (pls...if anyone wants to talk about any of them or both of them I am so mcfucking ready)

#i am not in fact classy #im....SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM #bg3 #shadowheart #karlach #shadowlach

[gaybananabread]

Hii! I hope I'm doing this right 😅

The amazing digital circus, Lee Jax! Ler ragatha!

Banana,oranges,lemons please!! :3

Absolutely fine if your not able to do it but just a request :D

(oh no I forgot something 😅😭 Can the most focused on spot be the ears please!! Super sorry!)

Fruit(s): Bananas, Oranges, Lemons

You’re all good, Anon! Jax is such an ass and I’m here for it (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠◡⁠`⁠). I’ve been pretty sick this week, so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes or quality issues (ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ). Fair warning, the bunny man is quite the prick in this because I like bickering. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Jax

Ler: Ragatha

Summary: Jax is being a total brat, sassing and picking on all the other characters. Ragatha has enough, giving him a lesson on manners he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

The Amazing Digital Circus was…an interesting place, to say the least. If one could get over the fact that a likely-sentient AI entity ran a digital fairgrounds that nobody could ever escape from, their minds twisting and going down a deep spiral of paranoia and uncertainty until they lost their sanity, it was kinda cool. That first part was a pretty big hang-up for most, though.

Jax, however, had grown pretty used to the madness. He had his wit and sarcasm as a coping method. Why worry about your own misfortunes when you can laugh at someone else’s? The rabbit took every opportunity he could to quip, snicker and poke fun at his fellow characters. He got on everyone’s nerves. 

His antics really got to one being in particular: Ragatha. 

She felt as if she could tear his ears off some days. Jax would always bully the others, but he had been horrible that day. Pomni was still getting used to things; the poor thing didn’t need another reason to fret. His jokes were only putting everyone on edge, and that jester was already on a narrow ledge… It needed to stop.

“Wow Gangle, I didn’t know you could actually do something productive. Color me shocked.” Jax hovered over her, looking down at the ribbon being’s drawing. It was some sort of fan art, though he couldn’t name the media. It didn’t look that accurate, and he wasn’t that much of a nerd before he put the headset on… 

Before she could think to be shocked at the half-praise, he quickly put the dickery in his words. “Shame it’s too trashy to make out whatever you drew. This place is enough of an eye-sore as is.” 

The tears on Gangle’s mask rippled as she sniffed, trying not to let his mean words get to her. It didn’t really work; she’d put a lot of effort into that… She clutched the drawing to her chest as she ran away, her mouth line quivering. Jax just chuckled, not really caring that she ran off. It was just a joke. Not his fault she couldn’t take it.

Ragatha put her hands on her hips, marching over to Jax. He rolled his eyes, preparing for the lecture. “JAX! What is wrong with you?! Gangle worked really hard on that! You…you need to quit being such a jerky prick!”

The wide smirk stuck, though his eyes widened slightly. It was hardly a solid insult, though coming from such a typically passive-aggressive person, it was surprising. Didn’t know she had it in her…heh.

Jax’s snarky smirk returned, his eyes forming amused crescents. Hello, new source of entertainment… “Relax, dollface! Crybaby’s fine. Just havin’ another pity party.”

She scoffed, letting her typically suppressed temper show. “Seriously? You told her that those amazing drawings were trashy! Why are you such a bratty bully?” Her tone was as curious as it was disappointed. Eugh…

“I’m not a bully. I just say what I see; not my fault you babies can’t handle the truth.” Okay, maybe he was going a bit further than he normally did. He was bored, and the banter was actually amusing. As long as he danced on the right side of the line, he’d be fine. “Like you. I mean, I get this place knows our minds or something, but it really nailed you. Trashy scraps and frayed yarn.” 

This little…ugh! He was bringing out a side of Ragatha she didn’t know she still had. “Oh really? And what’s that make you, cotton tail? A bargain bin, carnival prize knock-off?”

Jax actually chuckled; finally, someone fun. “Nah, I’m just better. Taller, good-looking, not made of sewn together *boink*. I’d say it did me right.” He smirked, leaning in and getting to her level. “You found a nice 1830’s girl yet? They’re all about raggedy scraps.”

Oh, that was it! She glared, her upper lip curling as she reached for him. The lanky jerk leaned away just in time, taking off in the opposite direction. Okay, so it was possible to make her mad…totally worth it. 

Ragatha chased after him, going over revenge plans in her mind. She normally tried to avoid conflict, but Jax was out of control. Rabbit stew seemed delicious, even if it would only be a simulation… 

Jax tried to find literally any not-obvious spot to hide, but everything was ginormous and solid, a vengeful Ragatha on his heels. He just ran for his life. He might’ve made it, too, if he hadn’t tripped on something. “What the-” He went down, face-planting on the bouncy floor. Gloink…of course. He could’ve sworn it smirked at him, even though they had no mouths.

The doll was on him in seconds, quickly pinning him to the floor. For fabric and stuffing, she was pretty strong. Before he could think to fight back, his arms were pinned above his head, the girl straddling him and blocking his every escape. “W-woah doll! At least buy me dinner first!” That one was kinda stupid, but it was there.

The smoldering glare that comment received finally shut him up, if only for a moment. So many ideas, so little time… But she couldn’t do anything to hurt him. One, it wasn’t physically possible, and two, she was better than that. He still needed some kind of shove in the right direction… Ohohohooo, that’s perfect.

“I think you need to learn some hard lessons, Jax. Respect for your friends, and when to shut up.” The tone of her voice was surprisingly playful, even if it had a serious edge. He didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 

He wasn’t sure what she was up to. That is, until he felt one of her mitten-esque hands on his stomach, wiggling into the furry surface. Unable to bite his lip, giggles slipped past his defenses, greeting the smug doll. “W-whahat the *bloink* ahare you dohohoing?!” 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m showing you what happens when you’re a snarky dork.” Ragatha smirked, keeping his hands pinned firmly above his head. “W-whehen dihid you gehehet strohohohong?!”

She tsked, trying not to take offense to that. “You need a filter, Jax. Apparently Caine’s isn’t enough. My way is a bit more…hands-on.” Ragatha went to town on his belly, digging her fabric fingers into his midsection. 

Squealing, twisting and turning, Jax tried anything to escape. He might’ve had the height advantage, but when it came to strength and endurance, he was surprisingly out-matched. Also, apparently very ticklish. Shocks across the board.

Jax kicked his feet, the pads thumping against the floor. She cooed, teasing him further. “Aww, guess you really do live up to your character, Thumper.”

The tickling wasn’t even the worst part, though it did come in a close second. It was the teases. He honestly didn’t think she had it in her, but *sproing* he was wrong. Ragatha squeezed his hip, making him jolt and squeal. “R-RAHAhagathaha!” Okay, make that a tie.

His laughter, to Ragatha, was honestly adorable. Who knew a jerk like him could be so ticklish, much less have a laugh like that. It was bright, bubbly and uncontrollable. Hearing her friends laugh, no matter how rude, was something special. She could listen to it all day, though she didn’t quite plan on going that far. 

While the silliness wasn’t hurting him, his pride was being battered to bits. No matter how much he wriggled and writhed under her, he couldn’t manage to break her hold or knock her off. Beyond that, she just had to keep exploring his spots. “Youhuhu lihittle- GYAAAHAHA! NAHAT THEHEHERE!” Like that one.

Ragatha's eyes widened as she rubbed the base of his ear, not expecting the spot to incite such a reaction. She wasn’t complaining, though. “Geez, Jax. These floppy ears are so sensitive! I have got to tell the others.” The doll switched between each ear, making sure neither felt left out. They twitched and flopped, but couldn’t avoid her skilled hand. 

Even though he was the most prideful of all the characters, her tickling was really pushing his limits; he just couldn’t take any more. Abandoning his ego for a moment, he cried out. “O-OHOHOKAHAY! IHI’M SOHAHAHARRY! P-PLEHEHEASE NO MOHOHORE!” 

She took that as her cue to quit, releasing his arms and climbing off him. The rabbit man immediately curled into himself, giggling like a toddler. She did notice, however, that he was still wiggling slightly, his closed eyes moving as if he had a twitching nose. He was clearly happy, though she bet he’d never admit it out loud.

“Y-youhuhu…youhu’re dehehead!” The threat would’ve been a lot more menacing if he didn’t look and sound like he’d had the time of his life. “Uh-huh, sure. Just try to be nicer, okay Giggles?” Ragatha pat his head, walking away and going to find Gangle. Knowing her, she would need similar treatment, though for very different reasons. 

Jax took deep and giggly breaths as he tried to calm himself. That was…wow. He didn’t even think stimulation like that was possible in the Circus. Then again, Caine did say the only thing he couldn’t control were their minds. How his mind felt right then…he’d rather not talk about it. Her plan had worked; he’d definitely be thinking about that encounter for a while. Maybe not for the intended reasons, though…

#tadc tickle #kasey's fruit shop #lee!jax #ler!ragatha #ticklish!jax #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #fruit shop event #the amazing digital circus tickle #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #sfw tickle fic #jax is an asshole

[bungalowbear]

Lord of the Valley: The Invitation

Pairing: vampire!Nanami Kento x reader

Summary: A visitor comes to you at night.

Warnings: smut, reader described having a vag, brief description of animal injury, open(ish) ending hehe

Word Count: 1,000

A/N: I tried to challenge myself and only write 1k words for each part. There’s still so much I can expand on, so maybe one day I will. Until then, thank you for reading and enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Your lungs burn as you sprint through the trees. Chiyo is cradled in your arms after being sent into the trunk of a tree with an audible crack, her sacrifice of shielding you from Nanami’s attack.

The vampire hardly makes a sound, but after years of training your senses are beyond the average human’s. Your mind and body tell you he’s close.

You’re coming up on the line of trees at the edge of your property. You dig your foot into the dirt, launching yourself forward, but a cold hand grabs your ankle and slows your momentum. Your reflexes automatically raise your other foot to kick off his chest, the added power providing your release. Right before you land your body shifts to slide across the grass on your back with Chiyo on your chest.

You breath heavily while Chiyo whimpers above you. Nanami stands behind the tree, face partially hidden by the branches, staring down at you with a scowl.

He’d taken the bait. So for the past month, you’ve spent many nights hunting one another, but both ultimately avoiding capture.

You stand and turn away to take Chiyo inside, comforting her under the weight of Nanami’s heavy gaze.

You turn your head, sensing something at the edge of your property. With Chiyo staying overnight at the vet with three cracked ribs and a sprained back leg your senses are on high alert.

Rising from the table, you slip into outdoor shoes and step out into the night. You walk across the yard until only a few feet separates you and your unexpected guest. He’s dressed in a white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of dark slacks that cling to his thick thighs. His neutral expression sharpens his already angled features. Ruby red eyes fix onto you.

“How’s the dog?” Nanami asks.

“She’s stronger than she looks.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

You huff. “What do you want?”

“The same as you. To put an end to our little chase.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

“A pact,” he says.

“Even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” you cross your arms, “it needs to be sanctioned by the elders.”

“So let’s draw up a proposal.”

“You’ve lived here for so long.” You pause, eyeing him warily. “Why now?”

“You’re different. I believe we can make this work.”

This must be a trap, you think. But maybe I can set one of my own.

“Let’s talk inside,” you offer.

“Inside?”

“Yes.” You turn, walking toward the house. “Come.”

There’s a shift in the air when Nanami takes his first step into your yard. He follows quietly behind you. Once at the door, you both remove your shoes.

“Enter.”

He accepts the invitation and steps onto the tatami. You both take a seat on opposite sides of tea table in the middle of the room. A lamp hangs above, casting your faces in a warm glow.

“What exactly are you offering?” you ask.

“Information,” Nanami answers.

“On other vampires? You’d betray your own kind?”

“Only those who are a danger to humans. I can give you names and locations of their nests.”

This is a rare opportunity. Your family has their own reconnaissance network, but nothing could ever beat a primary source.

Nanami clears his throat, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“But I will only give this information on one condition.”

“What is that?” you ask.

“You must marry me.”

“What?” You push away from the table. “Are you insane?”

“No, I’m…lonely.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

“I’ve lived centuries believing I’d never find my equal.” His eyes drop to his lap. “Until you.”

“You’re insane,” you repeat. “This will never be allowed.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“You smug, arrogant—” You stomp forward, grabbing his collar roughly. “—piece of shit. Who do you take me for? A stupid little girl?”

“On the contrary.”

You can’t comprehend what happens next, can’t expel the urge fast enough before you’re pressing your lips to Nanami’s. All you know is that you want him.

Nanami reciprocates immediately and you’re both a frenzy of smacking lips and wandering hands. He grabs the backs of your knees and lifts you momentarily only to drop you on your back onto the tatami. His mouth leave a wet trails along your neck and down your clothed torso while his hands work at pulling down your pants and discarding them across the floor.

You stare hungrily as Nanami simultaneously pushes his slacks and briefs halfway down his thighs. He spits into his palm and strokes himself to full staff. Your mouth goes slack at the size of him, but when he lowers himself you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to bring him chest to chest with you.

Two thick fingers push your panties aside and sweep through your wet folds. You shudder in anticipation as he lines himself up, crying out when he enters you in a single powerful thrust.

“Nanami,” you whimper as he sets a quick pace. “Nanami.”

He presses his lips to your cheek, whispering, “I’ve got you.”

Nanami’s skin is like ice against yours but does nothing to quench the inferno that rages with every stroke of his hips. He stokes your flame higher and higher until you combust, whimpering and panting beneath him.

He extracts his fangs to graze your neck, raising alarm bells in your head. Your hand reaches toward the table and takes hold of the machete attached underneath. Then you thrust your hips upward, catching Nanami off guard, and roll your bodies over so that you’re straddling his waist while holding the sharp edge of your weapon against his throat.

“Regular humans think a stake through the heart is all it takes.” You smirk. “But decapitation and a bonfire is much more thorough.”

Nanami twitches inside you.

“Any last words?” you ask, raising the blade.

He grins, pupils blown wide with lust.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your belly flutters as the machete comes down.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.

Dividers by @saradika

#catalog #lord of the valley #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #vampire!nanami #vampire!au

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I have a very specific take on the first meetings of Elrond and Celebrian that I am very obsessed with. So picture this. Celebrian during the Last Alliance is a pretty senior commanding officer within some of her parents forces and when she accompanies her mother to Imladris for the White Council she’s still largely fulfilling some of those duties for most of her stay, she’s out for a lot of the official events on patrols and such. She also spends most of the time around Imladris in her uniform, she has status of her own thank you very much she doesn’t need to introduce herself as Galadriel’s daughter to garner respect (Galadriel herself of course approves of this very wholeheartedly).

So in general she’d appear fairly masculine ( this was definitely not deliberate butch presentation to signal to queer elleths what are you talking about?), it’s mainly ambiguous on her part but she got her mother’s tall genes and built up a decent bit of lean muscle so people will draw their own conclusions. And while she’s in the training yard she hears someone humming what sounds like a Song of Power to enhance the stock of healing herbs kept nearby. She spots a stunning raven elleth in the corner that she was relatively certain she would be able to lift off her feet with shocking ease by the size of her.

Her conclusions were correct, the elf maid had a healer’s apron fastened over her dress and was most likely come from the Healing Halls, she was surprised she hadn’t seen her before though she hadn’t now until she’d started singing so maybe she was just good at blending it the background. She most certainly did not flex her sweat soaked muscles a little more than necessary with the next thrust, though the elleth most certainly seemed to think she had because she snorted to herself. Celebrian threw her a wink as she strode over to lean against a pillar.

She gets the name of Elwen, though she does not give one herself to the other’s great amusement. They flirt rather outrageously over the following weeks when they run into each other, sparring on occasion (and for such a tiny thing, by the Valar that Elwen was vicious. She was only two victories off drawing even with her, not that she was keeping track). Elrond was always fond of the anonymity offered by indulging his femininity, it was frankly shocking how few people recognised him when he did so, it was a pleasant way to both fulfil the need for a change that could not be ignored for long stretches of time and to experience things (and people) without the constant expectations to be a thousand different things at once. The opportunity for affairs of every nature without sullying the propriety of his reputation too thoroughly was another advantage.

So this all culminates in the first proper banquet Celebrian attends. ‘Lord Elrond, oh there you are, I was wondering if you’ve met my daughter Celebrian?’

Queue Celebrian going ‘oh shit, oh shit, I’ve been absolutely scandalous to one of my mother’s friends, oh Valar she’s going to kill me.’

And Elrond going ‘fuck, of all people you had to pick Galadriel’s daughter? Galadriel’s going to kill me, they will never find the body. Was that indecent corset really necessary?’

Galadriel finds this whole story hilarious when they tell her several centuries later (she knew the whole time and was just stirring shit up). Elrond and Celebrian are both bi so it works out anyways once they figure out exactly what happened.

#silmarillion #tolkien #Celrond #genderfluid #genderfluid Elrond #celebrian #elrond #galadriel #How queer can I make them

[peachybun-bun]

Thank You

the graphic above was edited by @chogiwapadada

do not remove the watermark and do not repost

pairing; xu minghao (the8) x f reader x wen junhui (jun)

genre; smut (minors dni)

notes/warnings; light choking, handjob, oral (f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism (sharing is caring), hand job/fingering, cum eating, protected sex (it’s sexy)

word count; 3700 and some change

a/n; thank you to @venerex​ and @onlyseokmins​ for some ideas that are mixed into this fic 

You smile a bit shyly as Jun rests his arm around your shoulder as Minghao furrows his brows, sitting in the arm chair across from the two of you. He had been just as skeptical as you had when Jun had brought up “thanking him” for his help in the dressing room. Though as you both sat across from each other, his eyes trailing over your legs occasionally, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Jun’s part. 

A simple, “I know you like him, babe…and I’m not jealous. In fact, I think it would be kinda hot to see you with another man, and if it was going to be anyone, I’d rather it be Minghao. I trust him, and I trust you,” was all it really took for you to say yes. 

Minghao is still considering why he is here. He knows the why, but he doesn’t know if he is going to stick around. He wants to, god he wants to as he watches you readjust on the couch next to Jun. He can’t help but remember how pretty you had sounded as Jun had fucked you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his best friend’s waist, those legs he wanted around him…

“Minghao…hello?”

Jun waves his hand in front of his friend’s face, bringing him back to the moment as he licks his lips, before meeting your eyes and moving them to Jun’s, feeling his cheeks going warm with embarrassment. “Sorry…I got lost in thought. I don’t know if this is a good idea, besides you two don’t owe me anything. You deserved your privacy. Which I didn’t really give you.” 

Jun scoffs a bit, before biting at his bottom lip as he moves his arm from around you to run a hand over your leg to rub your thigh, just out of habit, as he furrows his brows. “I would have let you know if either of us were upset with you seeing us…or watching. Clearly, it had another effect. Honestly, it’s turning me on thinking about it.”

You let out a breath and glance at Jun at his bold confession, before looking back to Minghao, who looks away a bit shyly and runs a hand over the back of his neck. 

“Minghao…” Your softer voice draws him back in, causing him to turn his gaze back to you as you smile. “I wasn’t sure about this either, and if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t want me, that’s okay. You can leave. We won’t be mad. I won’t be mad or offended. Jun pointed out that I…like you. I’m attracted to you, I always have been. So knowing you watched…then turned someone else away to protect us.” You smile brighter, making Minghao match your smile a bit as he is almost drawn to leaning towards you. “I really would like to thank you for that.” 

“You’re attracted to me? Jun is okay with that?” He glances at Jun, who raises a brow and smirks before nodding.

“I’m not an idiot, Minghao. I watch her all the time when she’s doing our makeup. The way she looks at you, she gets lost in you. It would be cruel of me to deny her the opportunity to play with you at least once. I’m not a selfish man, I think you know that. You’ve known me for a very long time.” 

You rub your lips together as Jun’s fingers slide along your inner thigh as he speaks to Minghao. The man across from you follows his slender fingers with his eyes. You can almost see his mouth watering as he swallows hard and stammers over his words. “W–what would we do?”

Jun smiles and moves his fingers from your leg, breaking Minghao’s concentration and drawing his eyes upwards towards yours as you smile at your boyfriend’s best friend softly. “Whatever she wants to do. Whatever she feels comfortable doing.” 

Minghao nods after a moment, and Jun claps his hands together softly, before rubbing his palms together and standing. He offers you a hand, which you take, before standing and extending your free hand out.

After letting his eyes almost study your fingers for a moment, Minghao finally takes your hand, letting you lace your fingers with his. He moves to his feet, following the two of you as Jun leads you both towards the bedroom. 

Jun drops your hand, letting you stay where you are as he turns to look at you and his friend as he smiles, tilting his head and seeing how nervous you both are. Clearly you are more anxious, excited, aroused, whereas Minghao is tentative, a bit scared, but clearly horny from the bulge growing in his jeans. “Relax you two…Minghao, how bout a bit of a show, loosen you up first? You like watching.” 

Scoffing into a groan, Mingaho furrows his brows, meeting Jun’s eyes, before shrugging as Jun reaches out a hand for you. “Sit on the bed, and you come here beautiful.”

You both follow instructions, Minghao’s eyes following you anxiously as his fingers drum out a soft beat on his thighs as Jun’s hands run over your arms while he stands behind you. “He’s horny, baby. Did you notice?”

Your eyes drop to Minghao’s jeans as he shifts at your attention. You can’t help but smirk a bit, noticing the outline of a slight bulge as Minghao lets out a breath. “Jun…”

His voice is so quiet it makes Jun laugh against the side of your neck as his hands move to lift at your dress, pulling it up to your hips and exposing your panties to Minghao. “What, Minghao? I’m going to undress Y/N, and you are going to watch. If you want to touch yourself, I’m not going to tell you no. I don’t deprive anyone in the bedroom. Do I, baby?” 

Shaking your head no, you shiver to Jun’s fingers as his nails rake gently against your sides.

“Lift your arms.”

You do as you are told, letting Jun pull your dress over your head, hearing Minghao take in a deep breath as you stand in front of him in your underwear.

“She’s so pretty isn’t she? I swear…when I first met her, I couldn’t help myself. I knew I had to have her. She’s perfect, I fell in love with her so quickly.” 

Minghao watches as Jun’s hands run over your breasts, your breath hitching in your throat when you feel Jun press up against your back, his clothed erection evident against your ass.

You watch as Minghao tentatively lifts his hips as he undoes his jeans, before pushing them down to his thighs, along with his boxers, letting his cock rest back against his stomach.

Jun smirks against your ear when he hears you gasp softly. “He’s pretty big isn’t he? You want him to fill you up?” Jun’s hands slide down your stomach and to your hips, before his thumbs press under the band of your panties as he moves down behind you, pressing kisses to your back as he goes.

You feel air hit your skin as your panties slide down your legs as Minghao runs his palm over the head of his cock as he leaks precum, before stroking himself slowly. His eyes fall between your legs as he sees your thighs tremble when Jun’s lips press to your ass as you lift your legs, stepping out of your panties. “You are really beautiful, Y/N…”

You feel your cheeks heat up at Minghao’s shaky words as his hips thrust up towards his hand slightly. “Thank you, Hao…”

He smiles into a small scoff as you shorten his name. Jun’s hands move back up your body as he moves to stand again, making quick work of your bra, which makes Minghao let out a deep breath when you are finally naked in front of him. 

“You never answered my question, baby. You want Minghao to fill you up?”

You shiver as Jun’s hand moves to slide along your neck, before his slender fingers push your jaw and turn your face towards him so his lips can press to yours. He doesn’t kiss you or close his eyes, he simply looks into your eyes, waiting for an answer, making you smile. “Yes, I do,” you mutter on his lips, making him laugh before he nips at your lips and groans into the kiss as his free hand moves to slide between your legs. 

Minghao watches your knees bend as Jun’s middle finger slides between your folds, over your clit, as the two of you kiss. He can’t help but thrust up into his hand harder, a groan falling from his lips as his free hand grips the bedding under him. “Fuck…”

His muttered word draws Jun’s attention, who breaks the kiss to glance at his best friend as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His fingers still move between your folds as you moan softly and struggling to keep yourself standing, your head leaned back on Jun’s shoulder, as he watches his friend’s hand move over his cock. 

“I think this is going to be a good night. Don’t go too fast, Minghao. I wouldn’t want you to cum before you get the chance to fuck her. She wants you to fill her up, or are you not following along?”

Minghao’s hand slows down as he shivers, his eyes narrowing as he meets Jun’s eyes taking a deep breath. “I’m following along just fine...Junhui.” 

Jun lets out a laugh that makes you smile, before a whine takes its place when his hand slides from between your legs. Minghao watches his friend lick his fingers clean as he moves around you, before pulling his shirt up and over his head. “Baby, why don’t you help Minghao finish getting undressed, then get on the bed for us, okay?” 

Nodding, you move from Jun as you listen to the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor as Minghao watches you move towards him. “Is it okay to help you?”

Smiling, Minghao’s hand drops from his cock as he takes a breath to calm his nerves and takes a good look at you when you speak to him, before he nods.

“Lift your arms.”

You watch him nod again, before lifting his arms, making you laugh softly at how shy he seems when you know what he is capable of on the stage.

“You are so cute, Hao.”

He raises a brow as you pull his shirt from his arms as you step between his legs. His hands move to run over your sides as he looks up at you, daring to smirk questioningly. “Cute? Why do you say that?”

You shiver at his gentle touch, only glancing towards Jun as he moves behind Minghao to lay on the bed, resting his head on his hand as he leans on his elbow, waiting for the two of you. “You are so shy, when I know how intense you can be…where is that Minghao now?”

He laughs at your words and runs his nails over your hips, before biting his lips. “I guess I’m just a little out of my element in Jun’s bedroom, beautiful.”

You laugh in return and nod, “That is fair, but tonight it’s your bedroom too…stand up?” 

Minghao glances over his shoulder to Jun, letting his eyes quickly take in the image of his best friend naked on a bed, before turning back to you and standing up as you take two steps back.

“You two are going to make me jealous.”

Jun laughs at your words, biting his cheek as his free hand strokes his length as he watches you push Minghao’s jeans and boxers down slowly. 

“No reason for you to be jealous, Y/N. I’m here for you…I just didn’t expect him to get naked so quickly.”

You smile as you move to help Minghao step out of his jeans, before glancing up at him as he meets your eyes. “I think Jun would be naked all the time if he could be.”

Jun purses his lips at your comment, considering it, before huffing out a maybe as he watches you move back towards Minghao. “You two are so slow…Minghao, kiss her. Clearly you two need direction.”

Glancing over his shoulder again, Minghao scoffs to his best friend. He looks at you and shakes his head, before sliding his hand along your jaw into your hair, as his other hand slides around your hip and pulls you close as he leans to press his lips to yours for the first time.

You moan softly into the kiss, making Minghao smile on your lips, before his tongue dares to dart into your mouth to taste you. 

“That’s better. Baby, his cock is right there. Why don’t you get a handful of what will be inside your pretty pussy in a few minutes?”

You break the kiss to look back at Jun as your cheeks burn slightly. “Jun…”

He laughs, biting his lip as he gasps, running his thumb over his leaking head. “I’m helping move this along. Are you not enjoying it?” 

Minghao smiles, before moving his hand from your hip to take your hand, wrapping it around his length loosely. “I want you to touch me, Y/N.”

You glance up at Minghao as his hand moves yours over his cock slowly as he furrows his brows slightly from pleasure. “That feels good.”

You can’t help but smile at the look on his face as his hand moves from yours, and your hand continues to move over him, stroking him slowly. Your free hand moves up to Minghao’s neck, pulling his lips back to yours and making Jun smirk as he watches from the bed.

His head tilts slightly as he takes a breath to steady himself. He has to calm himself, keeping his hand moving slowly so he doesn’t lose it too quickly, enjoying watching the two of you a bit more than anticipated. “Y/N, come to bed. Lay on your back and spread your legs for us.” 

Minghao whines as your lips part from his and your hand stops moving over him as you nod and move like Jun wants you to. His eyes move to watch your ass as you walk to the bed, before his hand runs over his mouth as he takes a breath when you lay down and he sees your legs spread open.

Jun watches Minghao carefully, noting the lust that seems to drip from his eyes when your feet move up the bed, your hands sliding up to your knees and back down to your thighs. 

Jun smirks, before sitting up and shifting over in the bed to slide between your legs, looking up at you with a wink, before wrapping his arms around your legs to pull you towards his mouth. He runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, making you moan loudly.

Minghao groans, digging his nails into his side, before moving towards the bed where Jun had been before sitting beside you, his eyes moving from your face to between your legs to watch Jun’s mouth move over your pussy messily. “Does that feel good, Y/N? He’s being so messy. Do you like it like that?”

You nod and moan out a yes, before reaching for Minghao’s hand, gripping it tightly as you pull his hand up your body.

He groans as his palm is brought over your breast, before you put his index finger into your mouth and suck softly. “Oh fuck…Jun, she’s perfect.”

Smirking between your legs, Jun glances up to Minghao, before sucking at your folds, making you squirm as you finally let go of the finger in your mouth. 

Minghao drags his finger down your bottom lip with a smirk, before letting his finger move down your body, leaving a glistening trail of your saliva. He grins as you arch your back when Jun’s tongue prods at your core, and he can finally move his hand between your legs, running his wet finger over your sensitive clit and sending you over the edge. 

Jun groans as you cum on his tongue, his nose nudging against Minghao’s hand as the two of them push you towards a place of overstimulation, before your hands move to grab at a wrist and hair as your thighs try to close. “Slow down..please.”

Minghao bites at his lip, shaking his head as Jun glances up at you, running his tongue over your folds and clit as Minghao’s hand moves, giving him access. “Jun, too much…” 

Your thighs trembling, he nods and moves to press a kiss to each leg, before sliding up your body to press a kiss to your lips.

Minghao furrows his brows, watching the two of you together, noting how passionate it is compared to the kiss the two of you had shared. It is obvious how much the two of you trust and love each other. As quickly as he felt like a third wheel, Jun moves from between your legs and looks to his friend with a grin.

“Now she is ready for you.”

You rub your lips together, your eyes closed as you take a breath still coming down from your high.

Minghao can’t help but scoff a bit as he watches Jun move to the nightstand to tear off a condom, before leaning over to hand it to him. “Seriously? You are going to let me fuck your girlfriend?” 

“Have you really not been listening? Baby, do you want Minghao to fuck you?”

You nod and reach for Minghao, running your hand over his thigh, before letting your nails scratch his inner thigh as you moan out a soft please.

Raising a brow, Minghao shivers to your touch, before ripping open the foil package. He rolls the condom over his length and moves between your legs. 

Jun smirks at how fast Minghao moves, “You didn’t take much convincing.”

An annoyed sound leaves Minghao’s lips, but you can’t find signs of annoyance on his face as you look up at him. His hand runs over your cheek, before he reaches between your legs to line himself up with you, sliding into you slowly.

You watch his eyes close as he groans softly, and as much as you want to enjoy watching him, you can’t help but close your eyes, letting out a moan of pleasure when he enters you fully. “Hao…oh my god.” Your voice is quiet, but both men can hear you.

Jun smiles at your pleasure, reaching over to push your hair out of your eyes and biting at his lip as Minghao begins thrusting into you slowly. Jun’s free hand moves over his shaft slowly a few times, before he is surprised when your hand moves his out of the way to take its place. “Baby…you don’t have to.”

Jun’s whining groan makes you moan louder as you open your eyes to look at Minghao, who is watching your face as his hips roll to meet yours in skillful thrusts similar to what you are used to with Jun. “You feel so good, Y/N. So warm and tight…”

Jun whines and thrusts his hips upwards towards your hand as he bites at the meat of his thumb, before taking a deep breath. “Wrap your hand around her throat, Minghao, not too tight.”

You feel Minghao’s thrusts slow down as he glances at Jun, before looking back at you. “You want me to choke her?”

Jun nods and groans your name and Minghao’s as he tries to speak. “Yes, Minghao, but not so tight she can’t breathe. She likes it. Don’t you, baby?” 

You nod and lean your head back, showing Minghao your throat.

He takes a deep breath as he tries to calm himself down after hearing Jun moan his name, wrapping his mind around what he is asked to do as his hips meet yours fully once again.

You bite your lip as Minghao’s fingers wrap around your throat just tight enough that you feel their gentle presence, making you moan his name. “Just like that…” 

Minghao smirks, before his thrusts become a bit harder, more intention behind him as he becomes more confident hearing you and Jun both moaning so loudly as you both are quickly reaching your climaxes. “Fuck, you both sound so good.”

You smile at his words as he groans, arching your back as you grip at his bicep, digging your nails into his skin, feeling yourself losing yourself to him. 

Jun gasps out a final loud groan, spilling into your hand as his hands grip the bedding as your hand circles over his head. His head falls back on the pillows as he mutters your name, telling you to cum for Minghao.

You don't need the permission or the push towards your orgasm as Minghao’s hips snap to yours sending you there quickly after Jun. You gasp out soft moans as Minghao’s hips continue to meet yours as he chases his own climax, when your hand moves from Jun’s softening cock towards your mouth.

His eyes follow your tongue darting around your fingers as you make a pleased sound to the taste, causing him to lose himself and spill into the condom with a muffled cry as he bites on his bottom lip. “Holy shit…that was so sexy.”

You smile as Minghao moves to slide from you, careful not to spill as he takes care of the condom, before turning back to finish watching you clean your fingers, before you move to your knees to finish cleaning up Jun who laughs into a groan.

Jun’s hand runs over your back and ass as he meets Minghao’s eyes with a shake of his head. “Lay down, Minghao, you don’t have to leave.”

Nodding, Minghao moves to lay down watching you finish your task, before you lay back on the bed and lick your lips, before looking at him with a shy smile. “Do you need cleaning up too, Minghao?”

He laughs and shakes his head no, before leaning over to press a kiss to your lips with a soft groan as your tongue darts into his mouth, before he speaks on your lips. “No, but I might need more thank yous…” 

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[pufferfishstories]

Knives and Feathers.

FANTASY HAWKS AU

Y’all don’t mind me just living out my ballroom, enemies to lovers with the one and only bird boy.

Hawks x FemReader

SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: knives, smut, or@l (reader receiving), d0m hawks,

————————————————-

Your corseted gown clung tightly to your skin accenting your curves perfectly. You had watched yourself in the mirror as maids fussed over your hair and make up. You sat quietly, making sure to keep an expression of Naive awe on your face.

You were playing the part of an innocent farm girl afterall. Poor helpless little orphan girl, a victim of ongoing war. Although the orphan part was definitely true, helpless was quite the opposite of who you were.

You’d been at the palace for 8 months now, playing the part of the helpless damsel King Touya had saved on one of his royal escapades.

Little did his majesty know you were here on strict business, business that definitely depended on his swift death. A death that would be delivered at the close of tonight’s ball.

“You’re all ready Miss Y/N” a soft voice came from the maid as she stepped back to observe you smiling. “You look very beautiful my lady, no one will be able to take their eyes off of you!” she spoke giving your shoulder a squeeze of reassurance.

You should have felt bad, this woman had cared for you since you had arrived, but you were too busy bubbling with excitement. Tonight was the night you finally killed the King. Giving your country the upper hand in the war.

You meekly smiled at the woman thanking her, before curtsying awkwardly and making your way towards the ballroom.

Your dress flowed behind you as you walked, deep crimson silk wrapping around your body, with a high slit riding up your left leg. The corset layered with undetectable blades, another dagger strapped to your right thigh, hidden in the folds of material.

You quickly pushed the poisoned hair pin into the folds of hair masterfully pulled together by the maid. And finally your look was completed with the necklace you had worn everyday since arriving, a necklace with a tiny vial of poison concealed within it, it’s purpose to kill instantly should the wearer be caught...

You pushed aside the thought. You were going to succeed. You practically had the King wrapped around your finger, over the time you had been here he had taken every opportunity to spend time with you.

And you had made sure to blush and giggle at all the right times. To gently brush your hand against his at all the right times.

And sure enough, as you shyly entered the ball room, there King Touya was standing next to his father and his eyes drinking the sight of you in.

You smiled softly at him.

Your plan tonight was simple. Wait for everyone to be drunk enough that you could draw the Prince away without anyone batting an eye.

For now your job was to keep the Prince’s attention on you. Carefully you began to make your way across the ballroom, flashing shy smiles towards the Prince the entire time.

Just as you were mere metres away from him a deep smooth voice came from behind you

“My my aren’t you an eager little thing”

You held back the need to groan in irritation, spinning around tentatively your eyes met a pair of intelligent golden ones staring down at you.

His large red wings were folded neatly behind his back, he wore a loose black shirt revealing too much of his muscled chest, tucked into his black dress pants.

Hawks pushed a hand through his hair as he looked at you expectantly.

The real you wanted to tell him to fuck right off and let you do your job, but you weren’t playing the real you, so instead you said

“I- what do you mean... Lord Hawks?”

You stumbled over your words, quickly putting on your perfected mask of innocence.

He seemed to be somewhat annoyed by your change in manner, as if he had noticed the brief flash of annoyance cross your features.

“I think you know exactly what I mean” he spoke the words as if they had a double meaning.

He concerned you, he was different to everyone else here. More alert, untrusting. He had never quite let you get any information from him in the time you have been here. It was as if he was simply waiting for you to show your true colours.

Everytime you had the opportunity to get close enough to the King he would appear just in time to save the day.

He wouldn’t break. But neither would you.

And tonight would be different.

Tonight everything would line up. Hawks was the official right hand to the King, which would be concerning except for the fact that it meant he was to be leaving early from the celebration in order to attend to a royal meeting in His Majesties stead.

It was perfect. Once the too well spoken bird man was gone, you were free to do what needed to be done.

“I- was just going to thank His Majesty for the invitation to attend tonight’s event, I- I’ve never been to something like this” you spoke gingerly, while simultaneously cursing his existence in your mind.

Hawks seemed to think about your answer for a moment, finally he spoke

“Well then you’ve got me to thank darling, it was I who invited you”

Taken aback for a second you stared at him suspiciously, your mind whirred thinking through possible reasons for his invitation

“You should know that when you think too hard you drop your little farm girl act” He spoke pointedly, the smirk returning to his roguish features.

Before you could respond your waist was pulled against his.

“Dance with me will you farm girl” which was hardly a question as he began to pull you more than guide you in a waltz.

“You see you’re very hard to read, Y/N if that’s even your name. So tell me, why are you here?” Hawks had leaned in close to your ear, to anyone else it would simply look like the pair of you were engaged in a relatively scandalous rendition of a dance.

But you were feeling a snake of dread unfurling in the pit of your stomach. You knew he was suspicious of you, but he said himself he couldn’t read you. Maybe you could still manipulate his suspicions.

“Maybe I am just after protection, and believe what you want, but I really am just an ordinary farm girl” you spoke quickly.

“Hm a rather pathetic lie, but I respect it” he responded coolly.

As the sultry music changed in tempo Hawks pushed his hand against your back, his fingers digging into where one of the blades were placed against the boning of your dress.

You almost whimpered at the uncomfortable pain now digging into your back. But you weren’t going to back down. You met his eyes, “accidentally” tugging on some of his feathers as he spun you gracefully away from him.

You heard his breath catch, and his confident collected front falter for a second. Happy with yourself for causing him a bit of pain, you continued dancing, pressing your body against his. To your surprise he seemed to have dropped the conversation.

Finally, at the close of the song he bowed low, but not before taking your hand and speaking in a low tone “If I find out you’re intent on anything other than getting in His Majesties pants for his money. I will make you wish you were dead”

“My lady” he smirked before turning sharply on his heel and walking away. Leaving you there to gawk at him.

Recollecting your thoughts, you decided that it didn’t matter what he did to you after you’d found the king, so long as the King died. You knew this mission was suicide. And being killed by the hot bird man might not be the worst way to go. Taking a quick breath you finally made your way towards the King.

You spent the rest of the night *pretending* to drink goblets of wine. Giggling loudly at the Touya’s jokes, drunkenly leaning your head on his shoulder.

Finally, the time of the night arrived where everyone seemed to be swaying. The music slightly out of tune, everyone danced and laughed spilling their drinks and kissing strangers.

It was time. The bird was nowhere to be seen, you had watched him leave hours ago.

You quickly started to stand up, consciously wobbling your legs and leaning on the King.

“Oh I better get to bed” you hiccuped

Laughing softly King Touya gently grabbed your hand

“I will have someone help you to your room” he said kindly

“Noooooo, I want youuuu” you protested, wrapping your arm around his

You knew he couldn’t afford to be seen leaving with a woman, especially not one of such a low status. But you also knew he wouldn’t refuse you. And so he did exactly what you wanted him to.

“Okay Y/N you know the drill. Go wait outside and I will meet up with you shortly to escort you to your room" he whispered to you

You did know this, the pair of you had done it many times.

Nodding happily you had wandered outside. Your heart pounding with how close you were to success.

Typically, the King would follow you after around 10 minutes or so. And so you melted back into the shadows on the corridor behind the ballroom.

You stood there for what felt like forever when you heard footsteps on the cobblestoned floor. Just as you were about to come out from the corner a strong hand covered your mouth and pushed you up against the wall.

Almost instinctively you reach up and pull out your poisoned hair blade. Only for your wrist to be caught and crushed up against the wall.

“Interesting, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you” the smooth voice evenly assessed.

Panicked you look up once again meeting the eyes of the winged Lord. It was Hawks. His eyes now trained on the miniature blade in your hand.

Cursing to yourself you tried to shrink back, and look scared, anything to scramble your character back together.

You felt his hand trail up your thigh, stopping at the blade secured there. Quickly pulling the blade from you he held it up to your neck.

“You know little bird, these are some pretty intense blades for a little farm girl”. He had now removed his hand from your mouth, keeping the cold silvered blade pressing against your neck, and his other arm still pinning your wrist above your head.

“Let me go.” You spoke dangerously. Barely breathing against the blade. Your wrist pulsing with pain.

“See I would if you were the little farm girl you pretend to be, but unfortunately my little sneaky bird. You’re not”

He smiled and tightened his grip on your wrist, causing you to gasp and drop the poisoned blade.

“Now you’re going to be a good girl, be quiet and do what I say”.

He pushed you into the nearest room closing the door quickly behind you. Your knife not wavering from your neck.

Finally you were returned to your position against a wall. Hawks’ body pressed right against yours.

“So, are you going to tell me who you really are little bird?” He spoke sharply into your ear.

You only glare at him in response.

“Hm well, that is unfortunate” he mused inspecting you

“You know I could kill you” He spoke finally,

Panicking you almost blindly reach out grabbing onto his wing. Suddenly his breathing shifts. His normal collected demeanour changes to a dark unpredictable aura circling around him.

His eyes darken as he releases a breath.

“You shouldn’t have done that” he spoke darkly

Suddenly the blade was discarded and his hand was around your neck.

Finally looking at his face you see he’s flushed, his chest rising up and down, breathing hard. You suddenly realise your hand is still entangled within his feathers, almost unintentionally you trail your fingers down his feathers, almost entranced by them. You’d always wanted to touch his wings. But never truly dared.

His breathing caught again, as he watched your hand.

“Are you trying to make me fuck you little bird?” He spat out pressing his body even closer to you now.

Taken aback it suddenly all makes sense. His reaction to you touching his wings. Now you can see a way out of this, and a way you’re certainly not complaining about.

Smiling you raise your other hand, entangling it within his feathers carefully massaging your fingers through his roots. His eyes fluttered for a second. Before smashing his lips against yours.

You moan, welcoming his tongue against your own, he lifts you up as you wrap your legs around his waist.

His lips move down your neck, planting kisses and bites along your neck. He keeps moving downwards kissing and biting along your exposed collarbone.

“Do tell me little bird of mine, why are you still wearing this” He spoke glaring at your corset

“A knife in the seam of my dress” you panted out breathlessly, your body pulsing

“Ah aren’t you just a clever little assassin” He breathed smirking, whilst feeling for your blade, after finding it he quickly sliced up the middle of your dress, exposing your now bare chest. “I hate you” you whispered breathily.

“Doubtful” he responded, then without giving you so much as a second to think his mouth was on you, sucking, kissing and biting causing you to let out small gasps and moans at his torture.

His hands slowly trail their way down your body, before his hand makes its way into your lace undergarments. He begins to run slow circles on your most sensitive spot, letting out a quiet growl of pleasure as you let out another moan.

“Shit” you think to yourself, “so much for getting myself out of this”.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Hawks abruptly pulls you away from the wall, lifting and almost throwing you on the bed, eyes widening you watch him stalk towards you, like some sort of crazed predator. You’ve half the mind to reach for one of your daggers only to remember it lay on the cold stone ground now meters away from you.

“You have no idea what seeing the real side of you does to me” he spoke breathily, his muscled chest rising and falling now almost completely exposed after your pulling at his lose shirt. As you watched him through your lashes you felt a pulse of heat radiating in the pit of your stomach and your sex.

Without warning he knelt in front of you, spreading your legs apart before getting your panties in his mouth and pulling them down leaving you completely exposed. You knew you were getting wetter by the second. Suddenly his mouth was on you, devouring and teasing you, his tongue worked it’s way around your clit, Hawks pushed a finger in you and then another, eliciting multiple unholy noises from your mouth. Finally when you felt an explosion building up inside of you from the torture he stopped.

Almost whimpering from the sudden loss of ecstasy your eyes snapped open to find him, embarrassingly your hips tried to follow his hands.

Chuckling darkly he spoke again.

“You know little farmer girl, I want the king dead too”

Now this was the last thing you’d expected to hear. Shocked you look up meeting his now lust filled eyes.

“He’s a villain to my country” Hawks continued matter of factly.

You stayed quiet waiting for him to elaborate.

“So you’re going to have to be a good girl and be patient, I’m afraid I can’t have you killing him before I’m ready”

Still breathing heavily from his treatment you tried to process what he was saying.

“So” he spoke, “in exchange for you holding off killing him, I promise to keep you” he knelt again, lazily rubbing circles into your clit again “very entertained” his voice dripped like honey, and your eyes were rolling back as the fire built up inside you again.

“So Y/N do we have a deal?” He spoke as you continued to moan.

“Yes” you finally said “oh god yes” as your orgasm finally reached you.

Chuckling darkly his wings unfurled stretching far beyond the length of the bed frame, he finally replied

“Good.”

#hawks x y/n #hawks smut #fantasy au #hawks fanfic #fem reader #hawks x female reader #dom hawks #sub reader #touya todoroki #bnha headcanons #my hero academia #choking #enemies to lovers #wing kink #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #smut